***
I was still in shock and awe mode as I drove us home two hours later. Gavin fell asleep as soon as the car started, so I didn't have any nonsense chatter about wieners and nuts coming from the backseat to break up my thoughts. The kitchen at the store was much nicer than I remembered from the years I spent stopping in there for a cup of coffee and a muffin, and it was stocked with supplies I only dreamed of using, let alone owning. There was an industrial-sized, two-door reachin freezer with a matching three-door reachin-fridge, a heavy-duty electric range with six burners, two Cyclone convection ovens, a holding cabinet that could keep sixteen trays of chocolates cool, a refrigerated bakery case that was right below the front counter and two copper kettles to melt chocolate, caramel or pretty much anything I needed. Right in the middle of the room was a four-foot by six-foot island with a cooling marble countertop - perfect for making candy. In all the time I’d patronized Andrea’s Bakery, I always loved the open floor-plan. I loved how when you were at the counter paying you could see into the kitchen and watch someone making cakes or pies.
It was too much and I told Liz that as I walked around the kitchen, letting my hand trail over all of the equipment. She tried to tell me that the previous owners recently upgraded everything so all of the stuff in the kitchen came with the space, but I knew she was lying. I’d been in Andrea’s Bakery not that long ago and spoke with the manager. I knew for a fact they didn’t upgrade. Plus, Liz could never look me in the eyes when she lied and she swore twice as much.
"Liz, this is too much. I can't let you do this."
"Oh for fuck's sake, Claire. This fucking shit came with the fucking place and the previous fucking owners just want to fucking get rid of it."
Liar liar, fucking pants on fucking fire.
Liz’s side of the store was just as nice, only without the amazeballs kitchen that my side had. She showed me where she wanted the wall to go that would separate the two spaces right down the middle, but not extend all the way to the front. She wanted enough room up by the windows for customers to walk back and forth between the two stores. It would provide just enough privacy in case my customers weren't too keen on looking at the dildos, lingerie and lube on Liz’s side and she said we could put a door back by my kitchen where the two of us could easily go back and forth without going to the main parts of the stores. The front of both of our sides had a counter where a cash register would go. Liz’s side had display tables littered throughout the front so she could display the items she would have for sale. Mine was left empty right now, so I could possibly add some tables for people to sit down in the future. I realized she made changes to the place long before she clued me in, knowing full well I wouldn’t be able to turn it down once I saw the hard work she put in to it. Where my side was wide open so when you were standing in front, you could see the entire kitchen in the back, Liz’s side had a wall right behind the front counter since the only thing in the back of her store would be inventory. She’d thought of everything and I was completely amazed at all she’d done in such a short amount of time.
While Gavin ran amok, we sat down on the floor with all of the paperwork strewn around us. We were knee deep in zoning permits, sales tax licenses, business plans, insurance policies and a hundred other different forms that made my head spin. This dream was so close I could touch it, but the fear of not being able to afford it had me biting my fingernails down to stubs. I could take up extra shifts at Fosters to save some more money and of course there was the additional income I would get from suffering through a bunch of Liz’s sex toy parties, but it still wouldn’t be enough to swing the rent and I refused to let Liz invest any more of her money for me. Liz called my father before I could protest and he met us up at the shop to take a look around.
“So, what do you think?” I asked him as he opened up the fuse box and took a look inside.
“Wiring is good. The kitchen is on a separate circuit from the security system,” he replied.
“That’s not what I mean.”
I wanted him to knock some sense in to me like he was famous for. Tell me I was insane for thinking I could do something like this; call me an asshole for having my head in the clouds.
My dad closed the fuse box and turned around to stare up at the ceiling.