Chapter 9
Jo’s stomach growled. The kitchen crew had gone home, and Candy had locked the diner. She sat alone at the counter with her laptop, a cold cup of Sumatran Empress, and a spreadsheet she’d been staring at for far too long.
It was Rocky’s cash flow projection. She had to learn how to use this model he created. He’d offered to help her, and since she had a question, she picked up the phone. Although it was dark outside, it wasn’t that late. She tapped Rocky’s number, and he answered on the first ring.
“Jo, what a surprise. What’s up?”
He sounded pleased she’d called.
“I need help,” she replied. “This cash flow spreadsheet you created is amazing, but I wanted to change some numbers, and I think I might have messed up your formulas. I have several questions. Do you have a few minutes to talk me through it?”
“Where are you?”
“I’m still at the diner,” Jo said. “We just closed, so I thought I’d finish what I started earlier before going home.”
“Why don’t I come by the diner? I can be there in a few minutes.”
“If it’s not too much trouble, I’d appreciate that.”
Jo hung up and stretched with a sigh of relief. Help was on the way.
The numbers were bad. Not catastrophic, not yet, but bad enough that she’d been staring at the same columns for twenty minutes, trying to find money that wasn’t there.
The manufacturer had taken her investment and delivered nothing usable.
Rocky’s letter to the attorney had bought her time on the contract, but the money was gone.
Her second mortgage payment was due in six weeks, and the crowdfunding campaign hadn’t launched yet.
Even with some preorders on the new shopping section of her website, she was running on fumes.
Minutes later, Rocky appeared at the front door, and Jo let him in.
“I’m so glad you could come. Would you like anything to eat or drink?”
“Thanks, but I just finished a pizza with Sailor. Let’s see what’s going on with that spreadsheet.”
They bent their heads together over the laptop. Jo pointed out her errors, and Rocky went to work correcting them.
He tapped a few keys. “We’ll lock these formulas, so they can’t cause trouble again for you. Now, what did you want to change?”
“This section,” she said, indicating it. “Since I don’t know what sales will be, I want to test different funding levels. Can you do that?”
He quickly made the changes for her. “There you are. See how easy it is now?”
“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver,” she said, beaming with appreciation.
The back door opened and closed. Only two other people had a key to the back door, and one of them was Candy.
Jo whirled around on her stool.
“It’s me. I saw your light on,” Blue called out, coming through the kitchen hallway. When he saw Rocky, a scowl clouded his face.
“Oh, hi,” she said, rising. “I didn’t expect you.”
Blue wore jeans and a henley, which meant his shift had ended.
Ignoring Rocky, he deposited a paper bag onto the counter.
“I brought you a sandwich from that new place on the boardwalk. Turkey and avocado, the kind you like, in case you haven’t eaten yet.
I went by your house first, but it was dark, so I came here. ”
Clenching his jaw, Blue shot an accusatory look at Rocky.
“Thank you.” She didn’t know what else to say. Though she was surrounded by food, she hadn’t eaten since lunch.
She turned to Rocky. “Thanks for the spreadsheet rescue. I think I’ve got it from here.”
Rocky slid a questioning glance at Blue. “I can stay if there’s anything else you need help with.”
She understood what he meant. “No, I’ll be fine.”
Blue glared at Rocky and puffed out his chest. “Jo couldn’t be in better hands.”
“I really am fine,” Jo assured Rocky. “I’ll let you out the front door. We can talk more about the projections tomorrow.”
When she turned back to Blue, she said, “You didn’t have to run him off.”
“Yeah, well, sorry I interrupted your—whatever that was.”
She stopped short of saying they were only friends because what if someday they weren’t? Anything could happen, not that it had yet. There was a time, not so long ago, when she would have bet on Blue. Yet look where they were now. She wasn’t sure why he’d even bothered to come here.
She returned to the stool in front of the laptop. “Why did you stop by?”
Blue sat beside her and glanced at the laptop screen. She didn’t close it. She was tired of carrying this burden alone, and if their makeup dinner had yielded anything, it was that she would be honest with him from now on.
“How bad is it?” he asked quietly, disregarding her question.
Jo unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite. She chewed slowly, buying herself a few seconds.
She would speak as plainly as she could, without drama. She didn’t want Blue’s sympathy or for him to solve her problem. She only wanted him to understand the situation.
She put her sandwich down. “Here’s where I am.
The manufacturer I was dealing with took my money and gave me inferior coffee.
I severed the contract, and Rocky’s lawyer friend is working on recovering what he can, but I’m not counting on it.
So now I have a second mortgage on the diner and nothing to show for it.
The diner is profitable, but not enough to cover both the first and second mortgages.
The new coffee project must generate revenue as soon as possible. That’s what Rocky is helping me with.”
Blue was quiet for a few moments. She could see him processing the situation, the way he did when he was on a call and assessing a scene, taking it all in before responding.
“I didn’t like seeing him here with you.”
“Well, do you know how to read this monster spreadsheet?”
He shook his head. “Wish I did. Bottom line, how much do you owe?”
She told him, no longer embarrassed at the situation as she would have been before Rocky helped her.
Blue didn’t flinch, but his hand formed a tight fist.
“Relax, I’m not asking you for money.” Still, he looked tense.
“And the crowdfunder—when does that launch?”
“Soon. I’m working on the campaign page and promotional ideas with Maileah.
Junie has suppliers lined up for merchandise, and Rocky built these financial projections.
But even if it fully funds on day one, which it won’t, the money takes time to come through.
And I need to order coffee beans and supplies before I can fulfill orders. ”
Blue tapped the screen. “What about the line of credit I see on that spreadsheet?”
“I have a meeting at the bank next week.” Jo took another bite of the sandwich. “The bank might lend to me, or it might not. My debt-to-income ratio isn’t great right now, thanks to the second mortgage.”
Blue only nodded. He was listening, which she appreciated.
Then he said, “Jo, I have an idea. And I need you to hear me out before you react.”
She pushed the sandwich aside. “I’m listening.”
“What if you didn’t have to carry all of this?” he said. “The diner, the mortgage, the coffee line, all of it. What if you could step back and take a breath?”
Jo narrowed her eyes. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“You could sell the diner.”
The words landed between them like glass splintering.
“Sell the diner?” she repeated, making sure she’d heard right. She could feel her blood pressure rising.
Blue raised his palms as if to shield himself from her wrath.
“Just listen.” He turned on his stool to face her.
He kept his voice steady, as if to diffuse her reaction.
“You’ve been running this place for a decade.
You made it successful, and everyone on this island knows that.
If you sold it now, at the height of what it’s worth, you could pay off both mortgages and probably walk away with enough to start fresh. ”
She could hardly believe what she was hearing. “Start fresh where?”
“Anywhere. You wouldn’t have the debt hanging over your head. If you wanted, you could develop the coffee brand without the pressure of keeping the diner afloat at the same time. You could take your time and do it right. Or not. Maybe you’d want to open a diner in Chicago.”
Jo stared at him. He wasn’t being dismissive. He genuinely believed he was offering her a way out. That was the worst part. He meant every word.
“I’m not sure how or why Chicago came into this conversation.”
“It’s a hypothetical. Sort of.”
“Blue,” she said slowly. “This diner is not a burden I’m carrying. It’s who I am.”
“I know that.”
“Do you? Because what you just described is me selling everything I’ve worked for so I can follow you to Chicago and start over from nothing. That’s not a solution. That’s my mother’s life.”
She saw him pull back as if she’d slapped him. “That’s not fair.”
“Maybe not. But that’s how it sounds to me. And you didn’t mention anything else on the table, like our relationship.”
She folded her arms and waited.
The diner was silent. The neon sign buzzed faintly in the window. The red Formica counter stretched between them, the same counter where she’d served him his first cup of coffee. He’d asked her name, and she’d fallen in love.
Now he was too stubborn to leave when she pushed him away.
“I wasn’t saying follow me to Chicago,” Blue finally said. “I was saying you have options. You don’t have to do this alone.”
“I’m not doing it alone. I have Junie, Maileah, Rocky, and my staff. I have a plan. The crowdfunder and a launch tasting. I’ve been working on this every day.”
“I know you have.”
“Then why is your first instinct to tell me to sell?”
Blue ran his hand over his hair. “Because I’m watching you drown, and I don’t know how to help.”
Something in his voice made her stop. She looked at him again, past the frustration and sting of what he’d said, and saw the vulnerable man underneath.
The man who brought her a sandwich because she’d forgotten to eat.
Who remembered her favorite wine and made her grandmother’s cornbread from scratch.
And who kept showing up at her counter even when she’d walked out on him.
If he didn’t want to marry her, then why?
“Look, Jo. I’m not trying to erase what you’ve built. But I’m a cop. I run toward problems to save people. This is what I know how to do. So consider my suggestion as an option.”
“You’re trying to save me? Wow.” Jo shook her head in disbelief. “I can solve my own problems. I don’t need you to rescue me. What I need is for you to believe I can do this.”
Blue was quiet. Then he said, “I have faith in your abilities, and I hope your judgment about this is sound. I hate watching you suffer.”
Again, Jo was taken aback. “I’m not suffering, I’m building. There’s a difference.”
Now at an impasse, they stared at each other. The neon sign hummed, and outside, a car passed on Orange Avenue, its headlights sliding across the ceiling.
“I shouldn’t have said sell,” he said finally.
“No. You shouldn’t have.”
“And I shouldn’t have mentioned Chicago.”
“Definitely not. Why did you?”
“I’ve thought about it. About my mom.” He reached for her hand on the counter.
She let him take it, but she didn’t squeeze back. This new information explained a lot.
“What can I do?” he asked. “Tell me what you actually need.”
Jo considered this. What she needed was money, time, and a healthy dose of luck. Blue couldn’t give her any of those things.
But there was one thing.
“Come to the launch tasting,” she said. “When I pull this off, and I will, I would like for you to be there. Because you believe in what I’m doing.”
“I’ll be there.”
“And stop suggesting I sell my diner and move to Chicago. I don’t have winter clothes.” She sighed. “And bring me more cornbread.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “The cornbread?”
“It was good, but don’t let it go to your head.”
Maybe they didn’t solve anything tonight, but they didn’t break anything either.
Jo closed her laptop, and Blue walked her to her bike. The night was warm, and the stars were out over Summer Street.
“I love you,” he said. “Even when I say the wrong thing.”
She murmured the words back to him.
“Let me take you home.”
“I need the fresh air. If anyone threatens me, I’ll run them over with my bike.”
Blue managed a smile. “Please don’t. I’d have to file a report.”
She pedaled home to Sunshine Avenue. His words spun in her mind. Sell the diner. Come to Chicago.
She unlocked her yellow door and stood in the kitchen for a moment, looking at Mamie Rose’s dishes in the cupboard. She needed to talk to her grandmother.
As for the diner, she wasn’t selling, she wasn’t leaving, and she certainly wasn’t giving up.