“You have to relax. You’re going to rip it.”

Aidan looked down at the menu he was holding. The poor paper was straining underneath his fingers that clutched and twisted it, then up again at Ben who was standing at the other side of the counter. He grunted softly and handed it to him before picking up a slightly more durable teaspoon as an alternative victim. Ben’s gaze lingered on it for a second, filled with soft empathy. 

“It’s going to be okay,” he promised as he gently smoothed out the creases that now decorated the short description of their berry french toast. “You did all your prep work. You know what to say, the food is ready, and it’s even kinda nice outside today. Besides, didn’t Chris say he knows the guy? I’m sure it’s going to be fine.”

Well… that was all true. Aidan spent the last week, ever since Chris told him he had a potential investor on the line, working out and refining all of his selling points. He knew their advantages, knew the challenges, and practiced answering even the most difficult of questions. Since Ben made the food of course it was perfect, and yes, he had to admit, the fact Chris knew the guy was a huge advantage that they very much needed.

Yet there was one thing Ben so kindly avoided mentioning. He was also the only investor that agreed to meet with them. Not even the almighty Christopher Hunt could convince people to consider this opportunity, despite the amount of time he spent on his phone in the last few days. This was their one and only chance.

“They should have been here already…” he muttered as he glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. 

“I thought we said ten-thirty?”

“Yes.”

“It’s…” Ben looked at the clock, then back at him. “It’s ten thirty-two.”

Aidan could only grunt in reply. His stomach was doing gold-worthy gymnastics that were about to make him throw up.

“It’s going to be fine.” Ben reached to rub his arm gently and offered him a gentle smile. Usually, this was the type of thing that made his heart race no matter how hard he tried stopping it from doing just that. This time though, he wasn’t sure if it was Ben or just the nerves that made it feel like it was about to break some of his ribs instead.

In what could only be described as an act of pure masochism Aidan straightened his gaze to meet Ben’s eyes directly. Right now, he was willing to take flustered and frustrated over whatever chaotic mess was going on inside his head. Though, the second their eyes met did nothing.

It was the one after it that did.

Ben’s eyes rounded, his eyebrows shot high on his forehead, and his smile widened. Following his gaze, Aidan turned around just as the door opened. The moment he saw Chris walk in with a man he’d never seen before, Aidan’s heart joined the back handsprings his stomach was doing – though, it appeared to be the grand finale. As soon as their eyes met and he offered him that reassuring smile everything turned quiet. At least for a second.

“Sorry we’re late.” Chris turned a new dimpled smile towards his mother, who smiled at him in return.

“Not at all dear. You’re just on time.”

A dry cough from behind Chris made him turn around. Aidan followed his eye line to the man who stood behind him. He looked… average in just about every way. Late thirties or early forties, medium-wash jeans paired with an olive green t-shirt and loafers with no socks, all topped with a brown corduroy jacket. The only semi-noticeable thing about him was the shoulder-length hair that was pulled into a ponytail at the base of his neck. That, and the expression he was wearing. It was something between sour and bitter, like dough that didn’t rise well.

“Right,” Chris turned back to them. “Introductions first. Eleanor Park, the owner and head chef, Ben Murphy the sous chef, and Aidan Park, who’s the manager. This is Gideon Astor.”

As Chris motioned towards each one of them, Gideon remained planted in place, only nodding in acknowledgment every time.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” his mother tried, offering her hand. “We appreciate you taking the time coming here.”

“I don’t do handshakes. Western culture turned them into a show of dominance meant to create intimidation.”

“Oh,” she blinked after a moment. “I see.”

A faint line creased Aidan’s forehead as he tried his best not to ask someone who looked whiter than most people in the room what he meant by that.

“Why don’t we all sit down?” Chris was smiling again, though it was what Aidan liked to call his professional smile. It still felt kind and genuine, but it lacked that openness, that… elusive imperfection that made his real smile what it was. If anybody else felt it though, they failed to show it. They all turned to take a seat at the quiet table they made sure to reserve in the back, gently nudged by Chris’ words or, in Gideon’s case, a gentle touch to his back. All but Ben, who remained standing and smiled brightly at their new acquaintance.

“What would you like to drink?” he asked him. “Tea? Coffee?”

The badly proofed dough of his expression was now overbaked as well, turning dry and crackly. “I only drink organic, sustainably-sourced coffee.”

“We make sure all the beans we use are certified organic and fair trade,” Aidan was quick to interject. He wished he could stand up and turn on the AC without it being incredibly rude. He was feeling a little too hot all of a sudden.

Gideon arched a brow skeptically. “What about the Rainforest Alliance?”

“We find their standards too vague. We prefer sticking to other certifications.”

“Bird Friendly?”

Aidan flinched. He could already see where this was going, and it was not good.

“Not all our roasts,” he admitted reluctantly. “These are a bit harder to obtain.”

Damnit. Aidan found himself fighting the urge to shrink back into his seat under Gideon’s scrutinizing gaze. Eventually, he clicked his tongue.

“I’ll just have some water, thank you.”

Strike one, Aidan noted, grinding his teeth to stop himself from scowling. He didn’t deserve the way Ben smiled at him again and let him know he’ll be right back with it.

“Is this the first time you’ve been to our shop?” His mother asked from beside him. From the corner of his eye he could see her tilting her head at Gideon and offering him a smile that was no less professional than Chris’.

“I haven’t. It’s hard for me to find places I enjoy, so when I do, I tend to remain loyal to them.”

“I see.”

“I’m sure you know how destructive all those large chains are,” he continued in a grave voice. “In this reality we, as consumers, have an obligation to do our research and support small, locally owned businesses that offer responsible options.”

“You seem very passionate about it.”

“I don’t have a choice,” he shook his head heavily. “It’s unfathomable to me how some people can just sit and watch as large corporations trample everything in their way. This exploitive, capitalistic model has to be dismantled, otherwise we, as a society, would cease to exist.”

“Would you?”

Aidan felt himself freeze the moment the words came out of his mouth. Gideon’s gaze felt like some sort of medieval torture device, slowly draining the blood from his body.

“Would I what?”

“I-”

“There you go.” Ben’s sudden reappearance made Aidan jump in his seat, though a second later he used the commotion of him unloading a platter of pastries and two water bottles from a tray to let out a long exhale. It was… close. Too close. He could feel Chris looking at him, though he couldn’t bring himself to look back. Instead, he cleared his throat and forced himself to lift his gaze to Gideon again.

“Would you like to try some of our selection?”

“I wasn’t sure if you prefer still or sparkling, so I brought both,” Ben added, either completely unaware or incredibly so of the situation he just interfered.

“I’d go for the eclairs,” Chris encouraged. “They’re my favorites.”

Gideon eyed the plastic bottles for a long moment before his attention shifted to the pastries.

“I don’t suppose they’re vegan and gluten-free?”

“No,” his mother chuckled apologetically. “I’m afraid we currently only have options that are either, not both.”

“I see,” Gideon wrinkled his nose.

Strike two. Aidan swallowed nervously as Gideon straightened in his chair, moving another inch or two away from them.  “Could you tell me a little bit about the place?”

“Well,” His mother clasped her hands on the table. “We opened back in 2006 as a smaller operation that offered a fairly simple, mostly takeout menu. We slowly expanded and now we specialize in-“

“I know all that,” Gideon cut her off. “Tell me about why it exists. I want to know about the heart, not the mechanics.”

There was a short pause before a familiar sad glint illuminated his mother’s eyes, casting dark shadow in their depths.

“This was my husband’s dream,” she said with a soft smile. “After he passed we… It seemed like the right thing to do. A way to honor him.”

“You said you’re the head chef. Were you working in the field before that?”

“Yes. I… well, back then I was a pastry chef in one of the hotels in town. But David, my husband, he always said we could do more. Build something that was all ours where I could create freely and do things that were impossible in a kitchen run by someone else. He was a bit of a romantic,” she laughed. “But… it was infectious. Even before he passed away I was already convinced we'd make it happen. I just… thought we’ll have more time.”

Silence dusted the room, settling into a soft, powdery blanket. It remained undisturbed for a long moment before Gideon reached over the table to put his left hand on his mother’s. His right came to rest over his heart.

“There’s love and devotion in the energy that built this place. I can feel it.”

There was no hiding the surprise in his mother’s expression. They were all probably wearing similar ones, though Aidan was too shocked to know for a fact. After a moment, she smiled softly.

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” Gideon bowed his head. “I only speak the truth. Now-” he leaned back, looking back and forth between her and Aidan. “I understand there’s a debt?”

Aidan could feel his mouth opening slightly, though no sound came out. After a moment he closed it and nodded.

“How much?”

“...A hundred thousand.”

“I see,” Gideon rested his chin on his hand. “Well, of course, at the end of the day this is still a business, and a deal we’re talking about. So we’ll  have to make sure it’s profitable. If only they could survive on sunshine and love alone,” he laughed. Aidan found it hard to join in. His chest was tight, air barely making its way in and out of his lungs as he waited for the final verdict that seemed to rapidly approach them.

Gideon too fell silent. He closed his eyes and tapped on his cheek with his finger for what felt like a small forever before taking one long inhale, then exhaling in a way that cemented Aidan to his chair.

“I think we should have a trial period,” he said, and Aidan felt a rush of oxygen entering his body, even though he couldn’t completely unclench his fists.

“In the next three months I’d like to see if you can increase your revenues and if we can reach a mutual language,” Gideon continued. “Hopefully the answer to both is yes and then, well,” he laughed shortly and put his hands together. “Then we can embark on this new journey together.”