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"And where do we get the money for display cases and signage? Where do we get the money for paint for the walls, Mitchell?"
He leans back, completely at ease. "That's where the other investors will come in. My team isn't willing to invest more in you until you've proved yourself, but it won't be a problem to find more investors." He looks at Vincent. "Tell him. This place is a goldmine. He'll be raking it in immediately."
Vincent opens his mouth, but I don't give him a chance to speak. "What was in this building before it went on the market?"
"A coffee shop that offered a selection of baked goods." Vincent doesn't look up from his phone, probably already realizing this deal is dead.
I nod. It's comparable enough. "How long were they in business?"
"It's not a good comparison." Mitchell's still smiling, but there's concern in his eyes and the crease of his brow. "Big chain coffee shops have been popping up on every corner and killing the competition."
"How long, Vincent?"
Vincent glances up, meets my gaze. "Six months."
I glare at Mitchell.
"It's not comparable," Mitchell says. "Their coffee was terrible and—"
"You two should probably discuss this in your office, Mr. Branton." Vincent holds the door open, motioning us out. "Let me know what you decide."
Mitchell smile finally collapses, his nostrils flaring. "You're right. I apologize for taking so much of your time. I'll be in touch soon."
"Wait," I say. "Don't you have more properties to show us?"
Vincent barely glances over his shoulder. "I do not."
I glare at Mitchell. "Please tell me I didn't fly all the way out here to look at one over-priced property?"
"It's a great property." Mitchell slaps my back. "You'd be stupid not to jump on it."
I don't say another word to Mitchell until we're standing on the sidewalk, the sunshine beaming down on us, and Vincent has driven away. "This isn't going to work."
Mitchell turns to me, his smile back, placating this time. "I understand you're risk averse, man, but you're never going to grow your business without pushing the limits. Your candy is the best I've ever tasted, and it deserves to be in every home in America."
"I'm not risking my life's savings and the chance of going into a hole I can never climb out of. If I give my shop a real shot here, it could take me months to actually turn a profit. Meanwhile, I'll be sinking deeper and deeper into debt. I'm not doing that."
"I told you I'll get more folks on board and I will."
"And I told you, I want to take this slow. I'm too old to throw everything I have into a chance that people will get excited about brick and mortar candy stores again."
"This was your idea." Mitchell grips my shoulders like he's pumping up a fighter. This guy has no understanding of personal space. "This is your dream. You're the one who wants a candy store in every state."
"That was before rents went sky high. I still want to do this, but you and I need to be on the same page. We're looking for a small, well-trafficked spot with low rent. Without a universally recognized name, I'm going to have to start small. It's the only way."
Mitchell shakes his head and looks out at the busy street. "I think you're making a mistake, Xavier. You should start at the top, hit the affluent customer base, and build your brand through word-of-mouth. It'll take money and risk up front, but it's the only way to do it."
"You're probably right. But it's not a risk I'm willing to take." It pains me to say it. Pains me even more to walk away from what is unarguably the perfect location, but I don't have a choice. I'm not trading security and financial stability for a chance at greatness. I'm just not.
"Fine." Mitchell stuffs his hands in his pockets and squints out at the sunny, busy street. "I think you're making a mistake, but I'll see what I can do to make this happen your way."
I run a hand through my hair. "Just find a place with reasonable rent." If I had a choice, I wouldn't accept this investor, but I don't want to be fifty and still watching the residents of Yuletide struggle every summer.
"I'll be in touch." He walks away without a glance back.
He doesn't even offer to buy me lunch.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
