Page 28 of Hello Billionaire

I waited until a car pulled out of a spot, then parked before someone else took the space. Today, I’d dressed in a gray Henley and jeans with a brown Ropers ballcap pulled low over my face, hoping I didn’t draw too much attention like I usually did when going out in designer suits.

I didn’t give two shits about labels, but a stylist kept me stocked with clothes that would look professional and help me be reputable in the circles I ran in. No matter how much I respected handshake deals and making decisions based on logic instead of emotion, looking powerful was half my success in business meetings and negotiations.

When I walked through the crowded coffee shop door, a blast of warm air greeted me. That and the buzzing of conversation inside contrasted the cold February day. There were a mishmash of chairs around the interior, from worn leather to vintage orange tweed and plastic seats around a motley collection of wooden and metal tables.

Students gathered with their computers and notes spread out. Couples shared drinks around the small electric stove in the corner. And what looked like a Bible study group sat around one of the larger tables, notebooks in front of them as they covered the material.

Before I even tried another drink, I knew half the magic of this place was the feeling you got when you walked in the building.

“Excuse me, young man,” said an older lady with a silk scarf wrapped around her silver hair. ”Are you in line?”

“Go ahead,” I replied, giving her a smile. I heard a table of college girls to my right giggle and had the distinct feeling I had something to do with it.

I may have been in the longest dry spell of my life, but I was not one of those guys who went for younger women. The ones I kept company with had their lives in order and were beyond petty drama. But most importantly, they didn’t expect anything long term from me.

When I reached the counter, a barista with a hand-written name tag greeted me. Jenni with a heart over the i had to be a teenager still. “Hi there, what can I get you?”

I glanced over the menu. “I’ll have an espresso, a latte, and your house drip coffee.”

“Absolutely.” She typed on the tablet they used for handling transactions and then turned it to me to pay. “How is your day going so far?”

“Can’t complain.” I tapped in a custom tip for a thousand dollars. “Is it always this busy?”

She glanced around the seating area. “It’s a little slow right now, actually. It’ll probably pick up in an hour or two.”

I raised my eyebrows. “This is slow?”

She nodded. “Everyone keeps trying to talk Barry into extending his hours, but he says he’d give up a billion dollars and his right ass cheek to have more time with his family.” She shrugged. “Seems to be attached to the left one though.”

I chuckled. “Good to know.”

She looked down at the screen, and her eyes bugged out. “Sir, um, I think you made a mistake.”

I glanced at the tablet. “Did I put a hundred instead of a thousand?”

She was white as a sheet, shaking her head.

“It’s right. Put it toward something good.”

Smiling so big her cheeks had to hurt, she said, “Your coffee will be ready on that side of the counter. Have agreatday.”

I only had to wait a few minutes before all my drinks were ready, and I balanced them in my hands, going to a two-top table and trying each of them.

My business had afforded me coffee from the best beans, the highest paid baristas, in resorts on almost every continent. (Still hadn’t made it to Antarctica.) But this coffee had to rank among the best. Full bodied and flavorful. Not too bitter but not weak either. It was a good cup of coffee, and I knew my guests at The Retreat would love it.

Jenny might have said Barry wasn’t interested in more work, but maybe Farrah and I could convince him that opening another shop, or at least consulting on one, could be worth his while.

I finished the espresso, half the drip coffee, and brought the latte with me back to my office. It was quiet when I arrived, which seemed deafening after sharing a space with Farrah for this long. Something about her chatty phone calls had become soothing by some mystery. So, I put on coffee shop sounds through the speakers and took advantage of the distraction-free space to get as much work done as I possibly could.

Even though setting up a temporary base at the hotel was helping me make sure things were staying on track as far as the design and setup of the space, it definitely hurt my efficiency. I had a lot to do. Including firing Green Line Mutual. As soon as Farrah told me where her ex sold insurance, I checked with Benjamin in finance and he said we had several properties insured by them in the Austin area. We’d soon have a different company handling that.

I also needed to go over the email Jason sent with an initial proposal for our partnership. At first glance, the deal looked amazing. After the initial investment was made back, I would get thirty percent of the profits for an additional five years at no cost to me. He also guaranteed the plant would be open at least as long as it took me to earn back my investment and the additional five years, so we were looking at a ten-year guarantee of more than a hundred jobs in that community.

That kind of thing could change a town—bring in better talent for other jobs, more businesses to accommodate the extra people, improved public services because of the extra taxes. The list went on.

Even though Jason wasn’t perfect, this was exactly the kind of project Griffen Industries should be involved in.

But then I realized it would just be more work for me. And I had enough on my plate with finishing up The Retreat. I needed to hire a project manager, but for some reason, letting go of this project didn’t appeal to me one bit. I tried convincing myself it’s because we’ve gotten off track so many times and not because of the woman I got to work with.

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