Chapter Ten
ANA SHOULD HAVE WOKEN still glowing in the aftermath of her victory, but the only thing she felt was a vague sense of unease. She couldn’t place it immediately. She was used to waking stressed, her mind instantly going to the challenges of her day, but this was something different. It felt suspiciously like shame.
Except she had nothing to feel ashamed about. It had been a successful evening. She’d beaten a guy at his own game, literally, and now they had a chance to get the funding that Bryan needed to make Solid Grounds a success. Or a real business, at least. There was still the question of four thousand pounds of beans in transit from Colombia and nothing to roast them with.
Enough navel-gazing. She didn’t have the time or the patience to mine the reason behind every weird feeling that flitted through her body. She’d already slept far later than she was accustomed to—she placed the time at 8 a.m. from the sunlight streaming through the window before she ever looked at the clock. That meant not only had she missed her chance for spin class, she’d missed Mass at Holy Ghost. Which also meant that she was going to have to dodge her mother’s calls for another week so she didn’t have to lie to her. She’d officially left the Catholic faith a long time ago, but being born Filipino in California made attending Mass more of a cultural expectation than any particular question of doctrine. So every Sunday she attended the same nondenominational church that her friends did; every Wednesday morning, she made her trek to the historic church in Lower Downtown. That way when her mom asked if she was going to Mass, she could honestly say yes.
Besides, there was something comforting about the ritual and pageantry of her youth. It was easy to feel disconnected here in Denver; the faster the city grew, the more anonymous it became, a Silicon Valley clone where everyone kept their heads down and worked long hours until they could escape to the Rockies on the weekend with their skis or mountain bikes. At least when she walked into the church, she got that feeling of connection to who she used to be, who she’d always been.
It was also a reminder of who she would never be again.
And there she was navel-gazing. She threw back the satiny cotton sheets, padded to her closet for her workout clothes, and swapped her nightgown for a pair of shorts and a sports bra. An hour on the treadmill was almost always better than therapy. And it would keep her from picking up the phone too early and calling Adrian. He’d said morning, but there was no need to look too eager. She should make him wonder how serious she’d been about the meeting after all.
She clicked on the large television opposite her treadmill and set it to the morning news, then programmed her route on the treadmill’s screen. She’d been thinking about California, so she set it for part of the San Francisco Marathon course. The hills would wring every last bit of discomfort out of her body, and then she’d be too tired to analyze why she was still feeling weird about last night.
An hour later, she was climbing off the treadmill, her quads and calves burning. Another hour after that, she was showered, made-up, and dressed presentably in her casual uniform of skinny jeans, a button-down blouse, and her favorite pointy-toed flats. Now she was ready for a phone call. She settled at the kitchen table with her planner, her cell phone, and that heavy vellum business card.
Adrian picked up on the third ring, his voice warm and deep. “Ana. You called. I was wondering if you would.”
Ana smiled so the expression would transmit through the line in her voice. “Then you don’t know me all that well. I always follow up when there’s money on the line.”
“You’re right. I don’t know you at all. But I’d like to remedy that. Have you considered my offer?”
“Of a meeting? Of course. I’d like to set one up at your earliest convenience.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Ana let the pause stretch for a moment, then softened her voice. “I don’t mix business with pleasure either. So let’s deal with the matter at hand, and the other . . . well, I’ll think about it.”
“Depending on the outcome of the meeting?”
“No, depending on how much you irritate me during the negotiations.”
He laughed again. There was apparently no putting this guy off. “I’ve got an opening on Tuesday morning. Ten o’clock. Can you make it?”
“We’ll be there.”
“We?”
“Myself and Bryan Shaw.”
A long pause, this time on his side. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”
This was where the whole thing could fall apart. She chose her words carefully. “I’m curious how long you’re going to keep up the pretense about being mad over your sister.”
“He told you that?”
“He had no reason not to. I told you: we’re friends and we work together. But I also know that you just like needling him when you see him.”
“I don’t like the guy.”
“You don’t have to like the guy. He’s going to make you a lot of money.”
Now she could hear his smile through the line. “Okay then. Tuesday at ten.”
“We’ll see you then. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Oh, so am I.”
Ana clicked off the line and blew out her breath. That had gone just about as well as she expected, though it was far from perfect. In an ideal world, he would have asked her about this business so he could do his homework. The fact he didn’t made her think he was just taking the meeting so he could see her again.
So why is that such a bad thing? He’s good-looking, successful, probably a lot of fun. Never mind that she hadn’t felt even a stirring of attraction beyond the general admiration of a pretty face. That didn’t necessarily mean anything. She hadn’t exactly been focused on romance when she was at the club, and she had the tendency to be pretty one-track when she had a mission. Last night, she’d definitely had a mission.
But there had been that odd little moment when she’d caught Bryan watching her, when she’d thought he looked jealous. Likely she’d misread that expression, but he’d clearly been troubled. Maybe he knew something about Adrian she didn’t. He was smart enough to know that insulting a guy a woman was interested in often had the opposite effect from the one intended.
Only one way to find out. She dialed Bryan’s number.
He picked up immediately, the sound of sawing and hammering in the background. “Good morning.”
“Hey, Bryan. I have news. Where are you?”
“At the roastery. We’re making progress. You should come by and see. Are you free?”
She was nothing but free. A week into her vacation, working out and watching TV was already getting old. “Address?”
He gave it to her and she scrawled it inside her planner. “I’ll be there in twenty.”
“I can’t wait. See you then.”
Ana clicked off, grabbed her purse, planner, and keys, and headed straight for the door.
Exactly twenty minutes later, she pulled up in front of the address he’d given her, squinting through the tinted passenger window. It was an old building in an unfashionable neighborhood, which made it perfect for a boho/hipster sort of business. She smiled to herself and circled the block one more time before she found street parking. That was something they’d have to address if they ever had guests—parking was something of a nightmare during the middle of the day due to the warehouses down the street. She hopped out of her car, locked it with the fob, then strode down the sidewalk to the building.
She could hear the construction noise through the open door, and she slipped in quietly so she could observe without being noticed. The small office space in the front was partially finished and empty of workmen except for one in a T-shirt, shorts, and a tool belt, hammering nails into planks of reclaimed wood on the back wall.
Scratch that . . . Bryan was standing on the ladder, hammering nails into planks of wood. She watched for a second as he fished a nail from between his lips, lined it up, and drove it into the wood with two strokes. Ob
viously he was no stranger to construction.
“Turns out you’re a man of many talents,” she said.
He whipped his head around in surprise, and then his expression melted into a smile. “You don’t know everything about me,” he teased, sending her words from last night back at her. He holstered the hammer and backed down the ladder to face her. “It’s not even close to being done, but what do you think?”
Ana took a look around. It was hard to tell when it was just a brick box with a partially finished wood wall, but she nodded. “This is going to be the front office and retail space?”
“Exactly. We have a cupping room going up in the back. Come. I’ll show you the rest.”
He jerked his head toward the open doorway and led her into the cavernous warehouse. The beginnings of a massive room had been carved out, framed in wood, the drywall starting to go up on both sides of the walls, insulation peeping out between. “That’s going to be bean storage. Controlling the temperature and humidity cuts down on the variability of the roast.”
“You’re anticipating storing a lot of beans?”
“Not at first. But the room has to be big enough to maneuver a pallet lift around.”
This was a level of detail she was completely unfamiliar with—storage and warehousing and all the associated equipment. “Where’s the cupping room?”
He led her a little farther back to where a second space was being framed out. “It doesn’t look like much right now, but we’re going to have a counter with barstools here and the sample roaster behind.”
“Any ideas on the design?”
Bryan looked sheepish. “Actually, I was hoping we might be able to enlist Melody to help with that.”
“She won’t take too much convincing. Assuming you can get her away from the bakery long enough to help.”
“That’s what I was afraid of. Bittersweet Café seems to be going really well, doesn’t it?”
“It’s been extremely successful, and the supper club is helping bring in new customers all the time. They’re expanding into the space next door. Did you know that?”
“I remember hearing something about that. What’s the holdup?”
“Negotiations with the landlord over price. They assumed the lease from the old bakery, and so they’re paying way below market value. Seems like he’s trying to make it up by charging way more than market value on the spot next door. Rachel’s letting him cool his heels right now. It’s been nine months and he hasn’t been able to fill it. He’s got to break sometime.”
“You two are a bit scary, you know that?” Bryan said it in an admiring way, and Ana couldn’t help but smile.
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Speaking of . . . we have a meeting with Adrian Valencia on Tuesday at 10 a.m.”
His whole expression brightened. “You’re amazing. But wait . . . we?”
“Yes, you and me.”
Doubt surfaced in his face. “Are you sure that’s such a good idea?”
“He’s not mad over his sister anymore. He just doesn’t like you.”
“And that’s better?”
Ana grinned. “I told him to get over it because you were going to make him a lot of money. You need to be there, Bryan. It’s your company. It’s your vision. And if he happens to make us an offer while we’re there, it’s your decision.”
He still looked doubtful. “This isn’t exactly my strength, Ana.”
She squeezed his arm, momentarily distracted by the feel of muscle beneath her hand. He’d quit climbing, but he definitely hadn’t let himself go. What was she going to say? Oh, right. “You underestimate yourself. You explained yourself quite well to me, and I’m a tough audience. I can help with the presentation, but I think it’s better that you do the talking. Adrian needs to have confidence in the person who’s actually running the company, especially considering your history together.”
He ran a hand through his hair, looking suddenly young and unsure of himself. She’d never seen him anything but completely confident, and it threw her.
“Hey. What’s with the sudden modesty? You have more confidence than anyone I know.”
“Hasn’t worked out so well for me so far, has it?” he muttered, almost to himself. To her, he looked up with surprising directness. “I’ve got a lot riding on this, Ana. I can’t mess it up.”
“You won’t. We won’t.” She nudged him with her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go grab lunch and we’ll form an attack plan.”
“Okay, let me tell the guys I’m leaving.” He unbuckled his tool belt and disappeared into the bean storage room for a moment, then returned. “I’ll come back to check on their progress and finish the wood cladding.”
Ana led him to where her car was parked down the street, soaking up the April sunshine as they walked. “So, construction?”
“Why is that so hard to believe?”
“I don’t know. It just never seemed like your thing.”
He shrugged. “It wasn’t. But the Flor de Oro farm was pretty much falling down around us. It’s not like here. You don’t just call up a contractor. The workers and I did a lot of repairs to the farmhouse and the bunkhouses. To be fair, I got tired of falling through the floor of my bunk.”
“You weren’t living in the farmhouse?”
“Of course not. That’s Edgar and Maria’s place, and it will be for as long as they’re alive. I’m not going to move seventysomethings off their land just because I own it.”
Ana sent him a curious look. He’d always been so funny and flippant that this heartfelt side of him was almost disconcerting. “That place really got into you.”
“It was eye-opening. We have no idea, here. We live so removed from everything in cities.” He shrugged. “I mean, I guess I’ve never exactly been on board with typical American consumerism, but when you live on a farm according to the rhythm of the seasons . . . it’s different.”
Ana nodded slowly. “I guess it would be.”
“I want to do right by Edgar and Maria. They were kind to me at a time when I really needed kindness. I mean, I want to make my money back, of course.” He laughed self-consciously. “Living with your parents is understandable when you’re twenty. At thirty-six, it feels more like failure. But for once in my life, I’m connected to something.”
His words stirred something in her she couldn’t quite name. Wasn’t that what she had been thinking this morning? About how disconnected she felt at times in Denver? There had to be something more than just work and friends, on endless repeat. When she glanced over at Bryan, she finally put a label on it. Kinship. Understanding. Maybe he’d felt the same vague emptiness that she’d woken up with and decided to do something about it.
“What do your parents think about this?” she asked, just to fill the silence.
“I think they’re reserving judgment. My mom is the ultimate cheerleader, but I suspect my dad just thinks I’m a screwup.”
“I don’t think he believes that. Your parents are proud of what you’ve accomplished in your climbing career.”
“Which I walked away from, without any backup.” He stopped. “Wait. Wasn’t that your car?”
Ana jolted to a stop and looked across the street, where her car indeed stood waiting. She would have walked right past it. Her cheeks heated. “Yeah. I guess I wasn’t paying attention.” She clicked the key fob, unlocking the doors with a chirp, and they dashed across the street.
When they were both settled in the car’s luxurious interior, he asked, “Where to?”
“I was thinking Bittersweet. We can ask Melody about lending her design skills to the place.”
“You move fast.”
“Every day we waste is another day you’re not earning back your investment. Don’t worry, Bryan. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure this isn’t a bust. Assuming you can roast the beans, I’m pretty sure I can sell them.”
He reached across and placed his hand over hers on the gearshift. “Thank you, Ana. I mean that.”
<
br /> She glanced down at his hand covering hers and then up into his eyes, her breath momentarily catching. “That’s what friends are for.”
* * *
The tension in the car was palpable, and it was all Bryan’s fault. He jerked his hand back into his lap and cursed himself for not thinking. Ana had always been a bit touchy about people getting in her personal space; he’d known that about her from the start. She held it around her like a force field, making men in particular back off to a respectful distance. Which was why he’d been so surprised that she’d let Adrian get up beside her like he had last night. No matter what she said, she didn’t do that lightly. She must be really interested.
Which was also why he was stupid for feeling this sudden sense of closeness with her. He’d never been the type to let feelings hijack him, at least where anyone but Vivian was concerned. He was letting his fear of failure get to him, and his relief that he wasn’t in this alone. If he wanted to keep Ana on board as his advisor—and he hoped his partner—he needed to keep things strictly businesslike.
He turned the conversation to something more on-topic. “So is this a PowerPoint kind of meeting? Should I be thinking about condensing the business down to slides?”
Ana seemed to be thinking. “It would be a good idea, even though I think this is the kind of meeting where you go in with copies of your business plan, revenue projections, and a story. Adrian is the type to get excited about a concept and how it fits into his portfolio of businesses. He told me all about this Paleo foods company he invested in, so I think we can definitely go with the virtue sell. He likes being on the right side of social and cultural issues.”
“You got all that from a game of pool?” Bryan asked.
“I got all that from him trying to get me to go out with him,” Ana said wryly.
“Did it work?”
“I’m still deciding.” She said it so matter-of-factly, he wondered what kind of calculations it would take for the venture capitalist to get a yes. Did Ana have line charts in her head for this sort of thing, where the x axis was attractiveness and the y axis was time? A guy who was good-looking enough and persistent enough would finally get to take her out? Or did the labels say “money” and “success” or some other variant of what she might consider in a partner?
The Solid Grounds Coffee Company Page 13