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She ignored that. “Ok. I like it. I think it might work. Why don’t you send me the terms and the contract by email and I’ll look them over as soon as possible.”
“Okay,” he said, playing the game. “But you know this place won’t last. I’ve got three more people coming by to look at it today.”
“Just send me the contract,” said Ant confidently. She knew this would be her place. She just knew it. Then she walked out the front door and took stock of her new neighborhood.
The side streets were mostly apartment buildings mixed with brownstones. Well manicured townhouses with wrought iron gates and colorful flower boxes. Worth many millions each for sure. She was delighted to see how affluent her immediate clientele would be.
The main street was more commercial. Her new space (hopefully…) was neighbor to a boutique cheese purveyor and an artisanal gelato shop called Articreme. She was beyond excited by both. After a quick look inside the fromagerie, where she introduced herself to Dominique, the owner, and marveled over the ripe, runny bries and the cave aged gruyeres, she headed to the gelato joint. Anything to get out of the blistering late summer sun.
The air conditioning inside the minimalist white space, all marble and polished steel, was as welcome as a quick jump in a cool pool. Ant took off her outer shirt, a simple tan button down she wore to appear business like, revealing the short, plain white crop tank she had beneath. The cold air caressed her face and bare shoulders and refreshed her immediately.
She jumped in and out of line, perusing the flavors as she got closer to each one, but never sacrificing her spot on the queue. When it was her turn she ordered the special - the flavor of the month, Stracciatella e Amarene. Basically chocolate chip with cherries, but it was so much more.
The main ingredient was grass fed milk imported from Italy. This made a fresh, sweet cream base into which Ecuadorian “Arriba” chocolate chips - flakes really, were gently folded. Added to this were dark cherries that had been soured in their own juice, but still burst forth with the fresh flavor of the season. The final product showed delicate shards of chocolate suspended like mini ribbons within the
snow white, dark cherry infused gelato.
Ant grabbed a small table recently vacated by a little blonde girl who had gone to town on a bowl full of Sicilian pistachio as her skinny mom watched longingly. Never daring to even take a single bite. Most likely frightened that even a tiny taste could ruin her long running, no carb, keto diet and lead to a never ending shame spiral of chocolate chip muffins, buttered bagels and baked ziti pizza.
Ant could never live like that. Could never deny herself like that. Everything in moderation. That was her motto. She settled into the chair and brought a taste to her tongue. It was cold and creamy and sinfully delicious. She closed her eyes and savored every flavor. Every bit of the milky, creamy, chocolatey, cherry treat, happily looking only forward.
Leaning back in the chair she brought the spoon again to her lips, dripping a drop on her exposed belly. The cool cream struck her skin and sent a shiver up her spine. She looked down and saw the drip descend. Slowly sliding down her skin the same way the paint did. Cold, slick, sexy…
In a flash that whole night came rushing back. The rain, the candles, the easy way she felt with him sitting on the couch. Their bodies lightly touching with each breath, each giggle. How right it all felt. Then the painting. The painting which led to everything else… The way he felt with her, next to her, inside of her.
She sighed deeply and tried to forget. She steeled her spine and told herself she’d made the right decision. He was obviously someone who couldn’t be trusted. He didn’t deserve her. This is where she needed to be. The here and now. With a focus on the future. Eye on the prize and all that.
Still…
35
The next morning found Ant back in her home town sitting in Buhz, a local hipster coffee shop on the edge of the town green. She was sipping a cappuccino and working on her laptop while the bright morning sun broke in through the street front windows. The whole place had a warm, calm glow inside that she found particularly soothing.
As for keeping busy - she’d found a great computer program that made it easy to craft a working business plan from her laptop. It took into account everything she needed from the executive summary right down to the financial projections and she was systematically working her way through one section to the next.
She’d already hit her dad up for money. He agreed to put up the equivalent of one year’s tuition. But anything over and above that she’d have to raise herself. The business plan would help her pry open the wallet of every aunt and uncle in her family - of which there were many. It would also be professional enough that she thought she could use it to get a small bank loan if the family funding failed.
Her dad also told her that if the restaurant didn’t work out she’d have to go back to school. Which in her mind was good. Having a downside as dreadful as becoming a lawyer made her focus even harder. She’d already started a gofundme page and a kickstarter campaign. Got a few dollars pledged already too. So all in all Ant was feeling pretty optimistic. And that’s when the blonde girl walked in.
She was pretty. Really pretty. In a decidedly trashy kind of way. She came in wearing a barely there tube top and painted on jeans. She had her phone plastered to her ear and was talking way louder than anyone should ever be in a public place. Disturbing everyone within earshot. Ant didn’t know who she was, but she did know two things immediately. One she looked vaguely familiar and two, she already didn’t like her.
“I know, right?” the girl shouted into her phone. “What did I tell him? I told him to get lost. Yes, really. He wanted to take me there? That place? Are you kidding me? Wait, wait, hold on a second.” She put her hand over the phone and proceeded to order an unnecessarily specific and overly complicated coffee.
“I want an extra large, caramel macchiato, half caff, with skim milk. Make it extra-hot with an extra shot and sugar free, but I want extra whip on the side in a separate cup which I’m not paying extra for. Last time they charged me. And hurry, I don’t have a lot of time.”
Then she returned to her call.
“Ugh! Sorry about that. Nobody knows what they’re doing in this place. Its ridiculous. Yeah? Okay, bye. I’ll call you later.”
She hung up and waited for her order, drumming her fingernails on the counter as she did. Then she picked a table pretty close to Ant, sat down with a flourish, took a sip and began flipping through her Facebook feed.
Ant was sure she’d seen her before. She just didn’t know where. She tried getting back to her work but was too distracted. Where do I know her from?
“Can I help you?” the girl asked obnoxiously.
“Hmmm? What?” Ant sputtered. Caught a little off guard.
“You’re like totally staring at me. Can I help you?”
