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I frowned. “But if it failed, doesn’t that mean we will, too?”
“Not necessarily. It was a fancier Italian restaurant. The area couldn’t sustain it. There were several in town already.”
“What about other pizzerias?”
“There are only chains there.”
Excitement flowed through me. “That could be good for us.”
“I think so. It would also cost the least to renovate. The bones are already there.”
Matteo came into the room, smelling of marinara sauce and cheese. “I’m on board. It’s stifling with the whole family in one restaurant.”
“For the first time in a long time, I’m excited about the future. We can grow and expand, earn more money for our families.”
“I ran the numbers if we were to expand with a third restaurant, and in five years, we could easily sustain the next generation of Giovannis.”
“Isn’t there some saying about how one generation makes the money and another spends it?” Matteo asked.
“We won’t do that, and we won’t raise our kids to do that,” Carlo said firmly.
I imagined Evie working next to me when she was older, as a hostess or even in the kitchen. She’d learn the business. I’d never require it, but any child of mine could work there. I wouldn’t make it a requirement for them to stay, but the idea of one of my kids working alongside me was attractive. “We’ll eventually hit a wall with things here. This is the logical next step.”
“I think so too,” Carlo said.
Matteo raised his hands. “I’ll defer to you for the money side of things, but I’d like more autonomy. We all know that. I want to run the restaurant, not just the kitchen. And I want the freedom to try new things.”
Our parents were stifling our growth and creativity. They raised us in the restaurant, and all three of us had good business sense.
“What’s all this?” Papà asked as he stood in the doorway. The space was too tight for more than three people to move around.
“We were looking at Carlo’s projections to open a second location.”
“Not this again,” Papà said. “It’s too risky.”
Sometimes I was surprised my father ever opened a business. He was too scared to try something new. It was a lot of pressure, but the risk was worth it.
“Carlo ran the numbers, and it’s more than possible,” I said.
“If we don’t do something, we’ll outgrow this location. We all want to be challenged to have a restaurant of our own to manage. If we open a restaurant in another town, we can increase awareness of our brand and bring in more people from other counties,” Carlo said.
“We’ll be spread too thin,” Papà insisted.
“It’s the opposite. There are five of us here today, and we’re tripping over each other. We don’t all need to be here. We’ve all been doing it for years, and we have a reliable customer base, but some nights we are too busy.”
Papà crossed his arms over his chest. “Why not open a restaurant close, then? Why another town?”
I hoped this meant he was at least considering our idea.
“We don’t want to split our customers. We want a new pool of people,” Carlo said.
“You all agree this is what needs to happen?” Papà looked around the room.
“We do,” Matteo said. “It’s the natural next step. Especially if we want to support our future families with the income.”
Papà nodded. “If you think it’s necessary, I’ll look at these numbers Carlo prepared.”
“We’d like you to do more than consider it. We’d like the go-ahead before you leave for Italy. There’s a perfect location available, and it won’t be on the market for long. We need to jump on it,” Carlo said, pulling up the images.
