Page 102 of Worth the Trip

“Go own something farther away from me.”

“I own half this place.”

“Pick the distant half.”

Nyla walked away, laughing.

The shop called for Nolani almost immediately, and for the next few minutes, I got to watch her answer without turning every question into proof she was the only competent person in the building. Mason brought over the supplier issue. She asked what he recommended, listened, and told him to go with it. A regular waved from a booth and got greeted by name. A kid near Scoops & Stories held up a book, and Nolani knew enough about what he’d been reading to ask whether he’d finished the previous one.

She was good at this.

More than good.

And I didn’t need six paragraphs of internal analysis to establish it.

The evidence was walking around the building.

She finally came back to me and tucked her coffee behind the counter.

“Okay. Where do you want to start?”

I looked around.

“Where did you?”

The question caught her for a second.

“The flavors. Before there was a building or a logo, there were recipes in Nana’s kitchen.”

“Then start there.”

Her smile changed.

“Come on.”

She slid her hand into mine and led me toward the production kitchen. Halfway there, she looked back and caught me watching her instead of the murals.

“What?”

“You.”

“What about me?”

I looked her over once. “You look good doing what you built.”

Her steps slowed.

“That’s what you came up with?”

“Yeah.”

“You usually have more vocabulary.”

“I’m trying not to interrupt the tour.”

She laughed. “How considerate.”

“I have layers.”