“Sunshine’s had a few updates over the decades, and more than her fair share of turbulent times, but overall she’s pretty much the same business she was back then. We were in our heyday in the fifties and sixties when I was still a young’un. I’d hoped to pass her down to my kids, but the good Lord didn’t see fit to give us any.”
Why was George taking this trip down memory lane? “Has something happened?”
George looked up at him, his expression wistful. “The era of the Sewell family owning Sunshine Diner is coming to an end. I’m going to sell the place, Tanner.”
He was too shocked to speak. There was no way George could know about his plans to talk to him about buying the diner. No one knew because he hadn’t told a single soul. Not his mother, nor his brother, nor even his best friend, Hayden. Since his promotion to assistant manager, he’d wanted to buy Sunshine when the time was right. Truth was he’d always wanted to own a restaurant, ever since he started working as a busboy when he was in high school. He loved cooking and making people happy with his creations, enjoyed all the tasks required to run a successful business, and he was confident in his abilities. He’d worked hard and scrimped and saved for nearly a decade, waiting for the opportunity when he had enough money. Right now he had more than enough to make a fair offer. “Funny you should say that, George, because—”
“I got an offer yesterday afternoon.”
Tanner’s train of thought squealed to a halt. “What?”
“Out of the blue, some guy contacted me and said he was a lawyer representing a prospective buyer who wanted to remain anonymous. Caught me by surprise, but I didn’t have to think too hard about it. I’m not ready to tell the rest of the crew, but I wanted you to know. I owe you that much.”
His brain spun. All his plans for Sunshine and all those years of hard work were circling the drain. “How much did he offer?”
When George told him the amount, Tanner almost passed out.
“I know that’s a lot for this place, but I’d be a fool not to take it. I’m ready to let go, Tanner. Have been for a while, but I guess I needed the kick in the pants to make me do it.”George chuckled. “And that was a huge kick, let me tell you. I’ll be set for life even if I live to be one hundred and twenty. Make that one hundred and twenty-five.”
Tanner’s mouth stretched into a tight smile. His hands and brow were already growing damp, but he didn’t want George to see him sweat. The amount was ridiculously high. “Don’t you want to know who the buyer is?”
George shrugged. “Don’t need to. Not for that kind of money.”
“But what if he tears it all down?”
George paused. “Hadn’t thought about that.”
“Wouldn’t it be terrible if all the hard work your family put into Sunshine disappeared?”
His boss rubbed his chin. “Yep. That would be plumb awful, for sure.”
Good, now Tanner had some breathing room.
“But I can’t hang on to Sunshine forever,” George said, sitting back in his chair. He folded his hands over his large belly. “I can’t keep on waitin’ for someone who loves this place the way I used to.”
“You don’t have to wait.” Tanner grabbed the one spare chair in the room, an old fold-up, and sat in front of him. “I want to buy Sunshine, George. I promise I’ll take care of this diner and honor what your family has done for Maple Falls over the years. I have a few ideas for some upgrades—”
“Upgrades?” George lifted a gray brow.
“A computerized cash register, replacing the old linoleum with tile, and...” He smiled for real this time. “Putting in a gourmet coffee bar.”
George rubbed his chin again. “I can see updating the cash register and linoleum,” he said, “but why waste money on fancy coffee?”
“The diner won’t lose money. It will make money.” He explained how coffee shops were not only popular but also a financial boon. “People take their coffee seriously nowadays. We don’t have to turn Sunshine into a full café. We can keep the diner and add on a small coffee bar where the jukebox is. Customers can order from there, and we’ll have the sugars and syrups and creamers available on the bar. All we need is a barista or two, and we’re good to go.”
“What’s a barista?”
Tanner almost face palmed. George really was old school. “An employee who makes coffee.”
“Like what our waitresses do now.”
“No, that’s different.” He fought for patience. He didn’t want to get sidetracked by details when his future hung in the balance. “What do you say, George? I can buy the diner from you right now.”
“For the same amount as the other offer? In cash?”
“Cash?” he said faintly.
“The offer was cash.”
