Page 16 of The Hampton Beach Café
“What? No!” she said, shaking her head. “Just a small...panic. The reality of what I just did kind of just hit me.”
“Well…” he said slowly, “…good news. We're at the bar!”
Frances blinked. They were too. Apparently, she hadn't stopped in her tracks but managed to keep on walking.
“That...is good news. I'd love a gin and tonic.”
Clarkson was all smiles again. He placed his hand on the small of her back. “This way, madam, to the gin.”
Glad to have something else to focus on but still on edge, Frances let herself be led to the bar. She didn’t have these panic attacks often––anymore––and this one wasn’t even as severe as she used to have regularly but it still rattled her to her bones.
***
The gin itself was fine, she supposed, but the drink as a whole was...too much.
She had ordered a classic gin and tonic but had been promptly told they didn't go for 'plain drinks' here and had poured her the closest thing to what she wanted. The strawberry lemonade tonic was frankly medicinal, the crushed ice on top was annoying, and the sparkler was inherently unnecessary. The price annoyed her, but she was used to LA pricing, so she hadn't actually worried too much when she tapped her phone against the terminal. The table they now sat at was high, and the stools perched around its edge were little more than a place to lean on. You'd have to be nearly six feet tall to sit on them comfortably.
“Are you really that worried?” Clarkson asked.
“No...and yes,” she admitted. “It's not the first time I've thought about buying somewhere to renovate and sell, but this was...too quick.”
“Well, for whatever it's worth, I think you've got it in the bag…” he said, leaning forward, “…you're smart and work hard. You'll be fine.”
He sat back in his chair and snapped a photo on his phone, tapping away before noticing her watching him.
“Oh, sorry, did you want me to tag you? I don't normally offer, but we're old friends,” he said, pointing at the phone.
“Tag me?”
“Yeah, your account?” he said. “I have to keep my followers updated, or they get testy.”
“Oh, no thanks,” she said. “I don't really do social media.”
Clarkson laughed. “For real? I don't know where I'd be without it.”
Smiling politely, Frances tried to enjoy another sip of her gin. “So, you said you're in property?”
Putting his phone away, Clarkson rejoined the conversation properly. “I am, I'm a realtor specializing in luxury property up and down the coast, but I've also dabbled in some smaller boutique stores––a sushi bar in Salem and a cutesy faux Parisian cupcake pop-up that runs in the summer here.”
Frances nodded as he spoke. “That actually sounds really nice. I'm just glad that developer didn't get the place…you know he or she was going to tear it down and try and intimidate people into selling? Probably put some hideous glass-fronted chain hotel there. Such a bad idea. People come here to get away from their shiny stressful lives, not be reminded of it.”
“You're an advocate for small and local then?” he asked. “You don't do big companies?”
She winced. Not since they dissolved her board position, she didn’t.
“So, do you think this place could be revamped and sold without bankrupting me?” she asked, trying to move the conversation along.
He considered for a moment, tapping his fingers on the cold craft beer he held, which disturbed the droplets of condensation on the shiny surface of the glass.
“Yes,” he said. “In short, yes. But you'll need to do extensive interior and exterior work, plus the licenses and local planning stuff, if you'd want it to run––and you do want it to run. You won't get much more than you paid if you just slap a paint job on it––it should be a functioning business you're selling.”
“You’re saying that this only works if I fix it up, get it running, and sell it at the end of the summer? Who buys a café at the end of tourist season?”
“Someone with vision,” he replied. “There's a lot more off-season passersby than there used to be.”
She nodded slowly. “And as we're old friends...would you be open to helping me? I'd pay you, of course. I don't ask people to work for free. I just haven't done this before, and you clearly have.”
Clarkson paused and considered her.
