Sugar Baby by Erin Pim Read Free Book Online Page B

a storefront as advertised, but a catering kitchen in the basement of an existing restaurant. The third place is an old dive bar way out in the middle of nowhere; and I didn’t even go in after traveling all that way. Once the excitement of actually going to view a space wears off, I decide that I have to be much more selective. I take my time with the next person on the phone. How many square feet? Full kitchen? Recently renovated? What was in the space previously? The prices jump, but I manage to find something at a decent price. After carefully inspecting the pictures, and an extensive preliminary talk with the realtor, it looks very promising. Now that I’m going about this a little smarter, I pick up the phone.
    â€œStephen? What are you doing tomorrow?”
    From the moment we walk in to the cozy, yet open space, I know that it’s a serious contender. I look past the garish colours, and cheap, almost non-existent decor, already picturing my rich, modern rustic style transforming it. I turn to Stephen with an expectant, excited look in my eyes, and he just laughs.
    â€œThe main counter could go here, a bar installed along the window, a large display fridge here, some couches here, and still have room for eight tables or so... Can we see the kitchen?”
    Wow. Surprisingly large for the size of the dining area. Could grow into this nicely, maybe run some catering out of here, eventually. “Hmm, most of the equipment is here. All I would have to do is get a couple standing fridges, even residential ones, since there’s no walk-in... When’s the last time these fridges were serviced?”
    While I continue to inspect the rooms, Stephen asks about the previous businesses in this space and their histories, the condition of the building, the landlord. Why the low rent? He finds that the property taxes run quite high. “So Kat, with TMI you will actually be paying about $3500 monthly. Even though the rent is $2000.” I do some quick math on my phone.
    â€œThat’s still only about $120 a day. Let’s say another $150 in additional labour, plus stock. Maybe $325 total. Let’s do some market research.”
    A trendy area, with quaint designer shops, and packed restaurants during this lunch hour. He sees me eye a unique grey dress in a window, and encourages me to go in and try it on. We get a couple looks from other customers, but the lady is very polite. While I change, I can hear Stephen ask her about their clientele, how long the business has been there, her experience with this neighbourhood. I emerge from the change room wearing the form fitting number, and he saunters over to me, smiling.
    â€œOh, we’re getting that!” He laughs, then leans in. “To remind us of this special day.”
    â€œVery lovely! Like a princess!” The lady adds, bringing over some jewelry. She loosely holds a necklace across my throat. “Perhaps your daughter would like a necklace, to go with the dress?”
    â€œUhh,” I stutter, feeling heat on my face. I don’t find that I’m particularly embarrassed personally, but I immediately have an awful, guttural empathy for Stephen. I just want to run over there and shield him from all the ignorant comments of the world. As always, he recovers like a true gentlemen.
    â€œOf course! And a matching pair of earrings!”
    We sit in a cafe a couple blocks away, but all their breads and desserts are ordered from a corporate distributor. And, nothing else similar in the area. We sit for an hour, and I track all the purchases, while Stephen inspects the lease.
    â€œI can’t believe people are buying these pre-packaged, preservative stuffed baked goods. And at these prices!”
    â€œPerhaps they don’t know any better,” Stephen muses, looking into my eyes. I avert them, having lost my confidence over the encounter with the store person. “Where you bothered by what that woman