Page 53 of Colliding with the Coffee Shop Owner
I do the mental calculations three times, hoping the numbers will somehow rearrange themselves into something manageable. They don't. Between the shop's financial struggles and this new blow, my life in Angel's Peak suddenly feels built on shifting sand.
The rest of the day passes in a fog of worry. I serve customers on autopilot, smile without feeling it, move through familiarmotions while my mind races through increasingly desperate scenarios. Even Max's presence in his usual corner booth fails to lift my spirits.
By closing time, I've worked myself into a complete spiral of anxiety. As the last customer leaves, I flip the sign to CLOSED and rest my forehead against the cool glass, eyes closed, breathing deeply.
"Lily?"
I startle slightly, having forgotten Max was still here.
"Sorry." I straighten, attempting normalcy. "Lost in thought."
"Troubling thoughts, from the look of it." He stands, concern evident in his expression, but there's something else too—a watchfulness, as if he's cataloging my reactions. He moves toward me with deliberate steps. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing major." The lie tastes bitter. "Just business stuff."
He studies me with those perceptive blue eyes that seem to see right through my defenses. His gaze holds me in place, commanding without words.
"I don't believe you."
Something about his quiet authority breaks through my resolve. I retrieve the letter from beneath the counter, wordlessly handing it to him.
"Thirty percent?" His expression darkens as he reads. "That's highway robbery."
"That's real estate in a growing tourist town." I take the letter back, folding it with precise movements. "People are discovering Angel's Peak. Demand increases, prices follow."
"What will you do?"
The simple question unravels me further. "I don't know. Business is already tight. The shop barely breaks even in the off-season, and now my rental costs..." I swallow hard against the tightness in my throat. "I'll figure something out. I always do."
Max is quiet for a moment, thinking. He moves closer, his hand reaching out to tilt my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. The gesture is gentle but brooks no resistance. "What if we increased your business revenue? Not just incrementally, but substantially?"
"By magic?" A hollow laugh escapes me. "I've tried everything. Loyalty programs, specialty items, and extended hours during peak seasons. There's only so much coffee one small town can drink."
"But it's not just about the town anymore." His fingers linger on my skin, a point of warmth that anchors me to the present. "It's about reach. Digital presence. Alternative revenue streams. What about a tech center?"
I recognize the look in his eyes—the same intensity he gets when solving coding problems. "What are you thinking?"
"Let me show you."
For the next three hours, we huddle over his laptop at the counter, exploring possibilities I previously dismissed as beyond my capabilities as a solo proprietor.
Not to mention the costs.
Max, however, guides me through creating a simple but effective website with online ordering functionality, setting up shipping logistics for my signature coffee beans, and developing subscription options for recurring customers.
I've considered everything he says, but something held me back. It's fear, but there's more to it. I hate to say this, but it’s as if I believe I'm doomed to fail, and because of that, I'm afraid to try.
Eric destroyed many things when he trashed my career. My belief in myself is merely a tiny fragment of what he destroyed.
"The key is maintaining your brand identity while expanding your reach." Max's fingers fly across the keyboard, building a digital version of Mountain Brew that somehow captures theessence of the shop. "What if we combine it with a coworking space?"
I lean closer to see the screen, catching the scent of his cologne.
"A coworking space?" I repeat, considering the concept.
"Remote work is booming, even in small towns like Angel's Peak. People need somewhere besides their kitchen table to work, but many can't afford dedicated office space." His eyes remain on the screen as mockups take shape—my familiar coffee shop transformed with designated workstations, small meeting areas, and comfortable lounges.
"You already have the Wi-Fi, the coffee, and the atmosphere. Add power outlets at each table, maybe a few privacy booths, a small conference room in that storage space you never use..." His enthusiasm is contagious. "Monthly memberships for regular users, day passes for tourists or occasional visitors. You'd essentially double your revenue streams without doubling your overhead."
