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“What are you going to do?” Rory asked.
“Say no.” She took a white box from beneath the counter and started filling it with Chaos Cookies. “I’m not selling my home and business.”
Callie clicked her tongue in exasperation. “You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m notkidding.”
“Aria, your business is failing.” Callie grabbed the paper, a frown carving lines around her mouth. “You don’t even have a profit-and-loss forecast in place, much less any kind of estimated future revenue. Imperial is offering more than the fair-market value and no contingencies. How can you possibly turn that down?”
Aria’s spine tensed. “Because it’s my business, and I can do what I want. Thanks for reminding me I’m such a failure, though.”
“I’m not…” Callie shook her head and pressed her lips together. “I’m just saying that you didn’t take the most basic operations into account when you decided to open a business on Mariposa Street.”
“And you didn’t take into account the fact that I can choose to do what I want with my money,” Aria snapped. “It still pisses you off that I actually did something big against your advice, doesn’t it?”
“Don’t you mean somethingfoolish?”
“Girls, stop,” Eleanor said sharply.
Lowering her voice, Aria glared at her sister. “I’m surprised you, of all people, would be in favor of a property company taking over the most historic part of town. You’re a historian. Mariposa Street is where Bliss Cove started. We’re related to the woman who owned the Sterling House. Why would you want it destroyed?”
“Mariposa Street has been a drain on the town’s economy for years.” Callie picked up the take-out coffee and tucked the paper under her arm. “Even if it weren’t for Imperial’s offer, I still don’t think you realize that having a business and living on Mariposa is going to ruin you financially. You’ve already had to use the rest of your money on repairs, and—”
“How do you know I’ve used the rest of my money?” Not in a million years would she have told Callie that. She shot Rory a suspicious look. “Didyoutell her?”
Rory sighed and flicked her long ponytail over her shoulder. “I might have mentioned it after you refused my loan offer. We don’t want you to end up in a money pit, and it sounds like that’s what’s happening.”
“What’shappeningis that I won’t let a property company kick me out of my own home.” She taped the lid of the box, battling back old guilt over not being able to tell her mother and sisters all the reasons she needed so badly to make her café a success.
They didn’t know anything about her relationship with Steve. They thought she’d moved to Colorado on a whim, not because she’d gone to live with a man who’d promised her security. Even though she’d extricated herself from Steve before things got worse, she was still too ashamed to tell her family. They’d all been through enough after Gordon Prescott’s death without needing to know how vulnerable she’d been.
“Honey, don’t be upset.” Eleanor put her arm around Aria. “We want to support you, but surely you can see why we’re concerned.”
Aria smothered a bolt of anger toward both herself and them. Yes, shesaw. That viewpoint was exactly what she was trying to change.
“I need to get going.” She picked up the boxes and started toward the kitchen. “I’ll see you all later. Mom, don’t forget to invoice me.”
Without giving them a chance to come after her, she hurried out to her car and drove back to Mariposa Street.
Pulling out her keys, she unlocked the door of Meow and Then. A chorus of howls and mews greeted her from the adjoining room. She opened the interior door separating the Cat Lounge from the food service area.
Over a dozen cats swarmed toward her, tails swishing and whiskers twitching. Porkchop was lolling on the sofa in a patch of sunlight. Hard to believe he’d masterminded a break-out just last night.
“Hello, my little sweeties.” Aria knelt to croon and pet the cats, making sure to give each one equal attention before she rose to refill their food dishes and give them fresh water.
She cleaned out the litter boxes, vacuumed the Cat Lounge, and prepared the front counter for opening. The building’s two rooms had clinched the deal for her—for health code reasons, the cats needed to be separated from the food service.
The Cat Lounge was the larger room, with big picture windows, round tables, and comfortable furniture. It was also a cat’s paradise furnished with multiple cat trees, scratching posts, and toys. A brick wall perforated by a large window separated the lounge from the front counter, where she sold coffee, tea, drinks, and the baked goods from Sugar Joy.
After starting a pot of coffee, she flipped the Open sign and unlocked the door.
“Hey, Crazy Cat Lady.” Her friend Brooke Castle, a slender brunette wearing a backwards baseball cap and a photographer’s vest, bounded up the front steps.
“Hey, Dogged Newshound.” Aria poured a cup of coffee and set it on the counter. “What are the Bliss Cove headlines today?”
“Apparently, Hal McGowan and Rodney Smith got into a fight at the Mousehole last night.” Brooke hitched herself onto a stool at the counter. “Over which fry shape tastes the best—crinkle-cut, regular, wedge, or waffle.”
“What about shoestring?” Aria took a kettle from the hot plate and poured boiling water into a mug.
