13. Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
Lizzie
This is wild. I don’t know what to say. I haven’t shared the load with anyone romantically in a while. I haven’t had a business partner before.
And now I can have both, one fake and one real partnership, being offered to me like a string dangled in front of a cat. Would this really help either of us?
“Like I said before, I need the money for the cafe.”
“Lizzie,” Will says, looking as dejected as he did when I first mentioned it. I know he cares about me and the cafe. “I wish you’d told me this before tonight. You know I’d do anything to help you.”
“I was being stubborn. Trying to hide it. To figure out what to do on my own. But I have no idea what to do. And then this plan comes up and I think it could help. Maybe. So, if we do this, we’ll need to lay out the rules. Like a plan. A contract.”
It’s the only thing I can think to say to him. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing by going along with this and talking it through. But I start thinking about what my friends were saying in the group chat last night.
I was so ready to push Will away. I’d already started to. I did that because he wanted to become my business partner, all because of one little text.
But now that I’ve heard him out and we’ve talked through some of this, I can see it’s not what I thought it was. Yes, he wants to do this because it will help him. But the crazy part is that it would help me too.
And I need all the help I can get. I don’t want to lose my cafe. And I do want to get Mama off my back and make my family believe that my dating life is perfectly fine.
I guess I want to make my friends think that too. Maybe I’m thinking too much about what other people think of me.
But right now, nothing else seems as rational as moving forward with this because, even if I’m a little unsure about how much it will help me, I know it will help Will. With everything he told me about his family, I kind of feel bad for him.
I mean, he’s rich and all, so I don’t know if I feel that bad. But I do feel for him.
Just because he grew up with money doesn’t mean he has everything. He’s obviously missing some of the most important things, like a loving family who cares about him and accepts him for who he is.
It’s crazy to think that I started my business on my own and grew up without much money, believing that one day, if I just had enough of it, I’d be happy and everything would be okay.
Now I’m looking at this man sitting in front of me, one who has had more money than he probably knows what to do with, and he’s here because he ran away from home and wants to start over.
Because money wasn’t enough. That is a sobering thought. It’s a humbling realization that makes me wonder if our plan might end up being the same way. Just like money, maybe our plan won’t be the thing that solves our problems.
It seems shiny and filled with possibilities because we’re desperate. But what if it causes more trouble in the end? I’m unsure about all of it, but I do know one thing.
I do want to help Will.
And I need to help myself.
“I’m in,” Will says. “Are you?”
His question catches me off guard.
But the only thing I can think to say in response is, “I’m not sure. But I’m all out of options, so you’re it, Darcy.”
He rubs his hands together like he just finished baking a masterpiece. I’ve seen this look on him before when he’s really excited about something he baked, or even more excited after I taste it and tell him how good it is.
He has that glint in his eyes, that smile on his face, and I can see it then. He is handsome. I’m not blind, but I never really stopped to look at him like that.
The other day, when I was having my mini meltdown, I looked at him enough to think fake dating him could ward off all my relationship drama. But I hadn’t really looked at him.
Now, as I watch him smile, I realize he has dimples, dark brown eyes, and smooth dark brown skin.
He has a perfectly shaped beard and soft-looking dark brown coils cut short.
I know Wolfsheim probably hooked him up because he’s the best barber in town.
That aside, Will looks nice and always seems put together.
Most of the time I see him, he’s dressed for work. But looking at him now, seeing him after leaving small group Bible study, I realize he cleans up nicely. Not that he looks terrible when he comes to work.
It’s just that we see each other all the time, and now all of a sudden I’m realizing he’s not just Will, the baker and my friend. He’s a whole man. A man who can wear a cardigan that somehow makes him look both sophisticated and sexy all at once.
And then I realize I shouldn’t be thinking about him that way because he’s still Will. And this relationship is going to be fake. But if it were real, and if I were being honest with myself, he is exactly the kind of guy I’d go for if I were actually open to dating anybody.
He’s driven, handsome, loves God, goes to church, and has a good job. Just saying. Except I’m not saying. Because I will never let those thoughts leave my mind.
“Okay, let’s lay out the ground rules then,” he says, still smiling at me.
I pull out my journal from a drawer in my desk, flip toward the back, and find a blank page.
I know that what I’m about to write down has nothing to do with making coffee or buying supplies for my cafe.
But it does have something to do with saving it.
And possibly saving me from my terrible love life.
Picking up the pen I almost stabbed Will with when he showed up out of nowhere tonight and scared me, I title the blank page in my journal: The Contract.
Will looks over, reads what I wrote, and snorts. “Very original.”
“It’s very straightforward and to the point, which we have to be if you want to make this work.”
“Okay, okay,” he says, holding up his hands in surrender. He lowers them back into his lap and puts on his thinking face. “How do you want to do this?”
“We need to talk about boundaries, a timeline, and the things we’re going to have to do to make people actually believe we’re a couple. And we have to finalize the actual business partnership to make sure we both agree to those terms.”
Will asks, “What happens if we actually fall in love?”
I look away from the journal. My eyes land on his. Is he teasing me? I look for the signs of sarcasm. It’s there, but so is the look he’s giving me. His eyes are questioning, like I have the power to answer that question and change our whole dynamic.
Or I’m overthinking it. I roll my eyes at him, because he has to be kidding. Then, I say, “If we fall in love for real, then we have to make a new contract.”
In my journal, I create two categories, one for the Business Partnership and one for the Romantic Partnership. I hear another snort from Will, but one look from me silences him.
I watch as he puts on a neutral expression, or at least he tries to. I can tell by the corners of his mouth twitching upward that he’s trying hard not to laugh.
“Let’s start with the business side of things,” I offer, slipping into professional mode so I can keep us on track.
“Here’s the thing. This cafe is my baby, and I don’t play about my work.
I know you know this, but we’re moving from me being your boss to us being partners.
So we’re going to have to make sure everything is laid out the right way.
I don’t want to lose everything I’ve worked for. ”
“Of course,” Will says, agreeing, no longer joking around.
I continue, saying, “So I propose that we become fifty-fifty partners only if you promise your funds will help sustain the cafe by covering what the grant no longer can. And, I need you to take on some of the responsibilities of ownership without letting it go to your head. If we’re going to do this, I need to know I can trust you, Darcy. ”
“I don’t want to mess this up for you,” he says thoughtfully. “I can make the investment into the cafe. I can cover fifty percent and take on more responsibilities. I already handle supplies for baking. I can help hire new employees too. Just let me know how you want to do this.”
I think about it for a moment, trying to mull over what he’s offering. I actually appreciate that he’s approaching this seriously instead of just telling me he wants to own fifty percent of my business. I think about some of the things I need help with.
My eyes drift toward the front of my journal. As I flip through the pages, I find my to-do list. I see everything that still needs to get done.
It would be nice to have someone help hire a new team for front-of-house coverage. To hire a new barista and a baking assistant. I’d also love to figure out a better marketing plan for the cafe.
I’ve always talked through ideas like this with Will, and he listens without interrupting me.
It feels like we’re back in the kitchen, trying to plan together and bouncing ideas off each other for a new drink or a new item on the bakery menu.
We always ask each other for opinions about the things we’ve created, even letting each other do taste tests.
I didn’t realize it before, but we were already kind of working like partners. We work well together, and our creativity flows naturally with each other.
We’d just settled into this steady rhythm of working together here at the cafe. But he’s very good at certain things, and I think those strengths translate into leadership.
My mind is already figuring out the details.
I say, “I think having you help with hiring a new team would be great. You and I are going to be business partners now, so we probably need to spend more time doing other things instead of always being out front. I’d like us to be able to plan events together, focus on marketing for the cafe, and, of course, going on supply trips together would be really helpful.
I could do the shopping for my drink ingredients, and you could do the shopping for baking.
It would help because, well, having two cars and two sets of hands means we can actually get more done.
We’d be able to leave the cafe without feeling bad for leaving Wolfsheim all by himself. ”
Will adds, “We’d be able to work more behind the scenes, prep drinks, menus, and baked goods further in advance, and then train other people to help take over some of those tasks.”
“Yes!” I’m writing down these things on the Business Partnership side of the contract, excited that this plan is coming to life.
“I think we should start by hiring a barista assistant, cashier and a baking assistant. I think that would really help because you and I can train them. Wolfsheim can help train a new cashier. What do you think?”
Will nods, saying, “Hiring a baking assistant, a barista assistant, and a cashier sounds good. Could we consider a marketing assistant too? And we could hire a cleaning crew to come in once a week to do a deep clean of everything.”
As I’m writing, I realize that all of these things have been piling up on my to-do list for the cafe. I never had the time or the budget to make all of it happen on my own. But now, with a business partner, I can actually see it working.
I say, “Perfect. We can also split manager shifts so the schedule is more balanced, give the staff at least one day a week to breathe a little, and make sure we have coverage for emergencies.”
I’m still scribbling down notes as we discuss the business side of things and how we’ll get Will set up as a business partner legally. We’ll have to visit town hall this week and sign some paperwork, but it’s all feasible.
I glance down at my notes and think about how all of this is actually coming together.
“And now for the romance of it all,” Will says, leaning forward to tap my journal, making me look up at him and roll my eyes.
“Slow down. Let me make coffee first,” I tease.
He laughs, standing up and stretching.
“I have something better. I have some leftover cinnamon rolls from today that I can warm up for us.”
“Oooh,” I say, licking my lips. “Yes, please! And I can make us lattes, if you’re up for my signature drink.”
He smiles at me as I stand too.
“I’m always down for a cinnamon swirl latte.”
“Hot or iced?” I ask.
I grab my pen and journal, move from behind my desk, and push the office door open wider before turning back to look at him.
“Surprise me,” he says, smiling and showing off his dimples.