Page 83 of Captiva Café

"Well?" Iris prompted. "What do you think?"

"She's enthusiastic and seems to have realistic expectations," Isabelle said carefully. "But enthusiasm only goes so far in a professional kitchen."

"She lacks experience," Gretchen agreed, "but her ideas are sensible, and she's done her homework on operations. Let’s be honest, we can’t be too picky here. We don’t have any real experience either."

"So what's your plan?" Iris asked.

Isabelle took a deep breath. "I think we offer her a two-week trial. She helps us prepare for the soft opening and works through the first week. If it goes well, we consider a more permanent arrangement."

"That's fair." Iris nodded. "She'll understand the probationary nature of it. She just wants a chance."

"And the grand opening?" Iris asked. "Still on for Saturday?"

"Let's call it a soft opening," Gretchen suggested. "Coffee, pastries, and maybe one or two simple items if Cara's trial goes well. We'll focus on getting the basics right before attempting anything ambitious."

"A soft opening makes sense," Oliver agreed. "It gives you time to work out the kinks before a formal launch."

"And lowers expectations a bit," Isabelle added with a self-deprecating smile. "Which might be wise given our collective inexperience."

Now that the construction was complete, people were allowed to approach the building. Passersby slowed to peerthrough the windows, curious about Captiva Island's newest attraction.

Isabelle felt a mixture of apprehension and excitement. The reality of opening the café was upon them, with all its uncertainties and possibilities.

She looked around at the café—at the carefully chosen chairs, the herringbone brick sidewalk visible through the windows, the yellow tablecloths that caught the afternoon light. They'd created something beautiful, and now they needed to breathe life into it.

"I think we're doing the right thing," she said finally. "Taking it slow, being careful with our choices."

"The café will evolve," Gretchen said with unusual philosophical insight. "Just like the island itself."

As the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the outdoor tables, making the yellow tablecloths glow like captured sunlight, Isabelle allowed herself a moment of hopeful anticipation. The journey ahead would have its challenges, but with friends like these—and perhaps a new ally in Cara—she felt ready to face them.

The soft opening was just days away, and while it might not be the grand event they'd initially envisioned, it would be the authentic beginning of something they could build together, one day and one customer at a time.

CHAPTER 30

“Do you even know what a soft opening is?” Isabelle asked Gretchen.

Gretchen shrugged. “Not really, Why?”

“Well, it looks to me like a Grand Opening without blaming anyone if it’s a flop.”

Gretchen laughed. “You may have a point.”

“The bottom line is that we were supposed to send out invitations to a select group of people. We didn’t do that, and now, everyone who has any interest in what’s been going on around here will show up.”

“Let’s hope they have money to spend. If they do, the more the better as far as I’m concerned.”

In Gretchen’s opinion, with picture-perfect island weather—gentle breezes, a cloudless sky, and the kind of sunshine that seemed to gild everything it touched, the only thing missing was a better attitude.

“Honestly, Isabelle, you really need to be more positive about this opening. It’s going to be great.”

Isabelle nodded and moved inside the café, where she stood in the center of the main room, making one final assessment before they opened the doors.

"The flowers need to be moved two inches to the left," she said, gesturing to the arrangement of fresh hibiscus and birds of paradise on the main display counter.

Gretchen, midway through arranging cups by size, paused and gave Isabelle a look that managed to be both fond and exasperated. "Two inches? Really?"

"It affects the visual flow," Isabelle explained unapologetically, moving the vase herself with precise movements. "First impressions matter."

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