She looked at him quizzically as she de-shelled a prawn. “Crema, as in the international coffee chain?”
He looked embarrassed. “Yeah. They want to buy Coast Roast, have it as a boutique arm of Crema. There’s a growing wave of consumers who are actively moving away from the chains in favor of independent coffee shops, and Crema want them back.”
“So, they want to buy you out? When did this happen?”
“Not exactly, I’d still be ‘CEO.’ ” He put air quotes around the word. “They want to keep the indie feel and name of Coast Roast while having one in every town, as an ‘indie’ alternative to the traditional Crema branches. Only, of course, theywouldn’tbe independent, they’d be part of a conglomerate in indie clothing. I’m going to turn them down.”
“What? I’m sorry, I’m having a hard time absorbing this. Crema, one of the biggest coffee establishments in the world, has offered you a partnership and you’re going to turn them down?”
“I think I am, yeah. They gave me a month to think about it, but I know it’s the right thing to do.”
Fred was reeling. “How did I not know about this?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t exactly advertise it. I told my family and Mina, and they gave me their opinions, but the final decision had to be mine.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“We’re only just getting to know each other again; I didn’t want you to think I was bragging.” He shifted in his chair, looking uncomfortable. “It seemed in poor taste to tell you that I was being headhunted by a global brand who want to make me a millionaire, when you’d lost your job.”
She laughed. “I’m not completely self-serving; I have the capacity to be happy for other people’s successes, even when my own career is in the toilet.” She dunked another piece of bread. “A millionaire? Have you really thought this through?” she asked, catching a dribble of broth on her chin with a napkin. “It would be life changing.”
He smiled at her with a measure of self-deprecation. “I didn’t simply disregard them out of hand, Fred, I’m not a complete indie dogmatist. I took some time to study it from every angle, and I’m happy with my decision.”
“No, of course, I know you will have given it a lot of thought. It’s just that you would be set for life. You’d have Coast Roasts all over the world…” As someone who’d spentthe past year in economic difficulty, it was hard to fathom turning down that kind of financial security.
“But they wouldn’t bemyCoast Roasts, would they? Not really. They’d be a cartoon version of an indie business.”
“You could retire! You could become an international jet-setter! Are you allergic to money?” she asked, in a tongue-in-cheek tone, holding her spoon toward him like a microphone.
He laughed. “I could do those things, and no, I am not allergic to money. Don’t imagine I didn’t consider what a life of lazy luxury might look like. The simple fact is that even as a CEO I couldn’t possibly oversee how things are being run in a branch in Brazil or Norway. Or be sure that staff are being paid a living wage, or that the beans are ethically sourced and Fairtrade across the board, or even that they’re being roasted in the way I want them to be.”
She softened, seeing his point. “I can understand that. What did your family say about it?” she asked.
“They were excited about the offer, I mean, who wouldn’t be? But at the same time, they understand where I’m coming from, and they respect my decision.” He left a beat. “It would be nice if you could too.”
“I do, of course I do, it’s just a surprise, that’s all. You’ve had a month to get your head around it, I’m only just hearing about it. Don’t be cross with me for asking questions, I just wanted to make sure you’d really thought it through.”
“I have.”
“Then good! Congratulations on being headhunted and sticking to your integrity. I’m proud of you.” She meant it.
“Really?” He seemed unsure. There was a small cloud of tension hanging in the air but before either of them had time to properly dispel it, Ryan’s phone rang and he stood and went out on the deck to take the call.
Great, Fred. Way to put a dampener on a perfectly nice evening.Why did she have to press him?Stupid, stupid!She looked out of the window, the wind making it impossible to hear what he was saying, but from his expression and the way he was pacing up and down the small deck, she could tell something was wrong. She got up and began to clear their plates, wiped them over with some kitchen towels and stacked them in the crate by the door. She was about to refill their wineglasses when Ryan came back in, his expression pensive, worry rolling off him in waves and crashing over her in turn.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, concerned.
“I have to go. Dad’s sick, they’re waiting for an ambulance.”
“Oh my god! Is he okay? Stupid question. Is it his heart?”
Ryan nodded grimly, checking his phone. “Looks that way.”
“Shit. Okay, I’ll come with you.”
He looked around the boat, indecision etched across his face. “What if I’m gone all night? I can’t leave the boat here.” He put his hands on top of his head, interlacing his fingers; he looked lost, as though he didn’t know what he should do first.
She went to him and put her arms around his waist. “Go be with him. I’ll clear this lot. And get the boat back.” Shedidn’t know how, but she’d cross that bridge when she came to it. She felt Ryan’s arms slip around her, felt his breath in her hair, then he nodded and pulled away.
