“That’d be optimistic,” Ziya commented drily. “Andrew hates her ass.”
“Maybe she thinks he’ll come around,” Amie suggested.
“Do you think he would?”
“No. He hates her ass.”
Ziya cackled.
“Andrew could sell to someone else,” Amie said as David took his plate to the sink and returned to his work table. “Raina mentioned that man … John … something.”
“Jonathan Oakland,” Ziya said.
“Right.” Amie hadn’t had the chance to take notes like she had after her conversation with Andrew. She was grateful for Ziya’s memory to back her up.
“He wanted to buy the store, too,” she continued. “I think I saw his business card when I was at the Harlows’ apartment.”
“I’ve heard of him,” David called from across the room. “He bought that pizzeria on Harvest Street.”
“That’s where we got this pizza!” Ziya exclaimed. “He owns it?”
“Brought it back from the brink of bankruptcy, I heard.”
“It’s thriving now,” Amie said. “They were packed.”
“I read an article about it a few weeks ago,” David said. “Apparently, he loves buying failing businesses and turning them around.”
“Makes sense why he was interested in Shelf Starter,” Ziya said.
Amie stood from the table. “David, can I use your laptop? I want to look him up.”
“What’s wrong with your phone?”
“This is a big screen task. Please?”
“Fine. It’s on the couch. Don’t disturb my track.”
A minute later, Amie and Ziya were sitting side by side on the couch, scrolling through search results for Jonathan Oakland. They were both leaning forward to avoid disturbing the wooden track David had set up on the back of the couch, and Amie was leaning to the side to avoid the accelerant to her pulse caused by Ziya’s body heat.
They skimmed through the news article David had referenced, as well as a couple other interviews with websites centered on business and entrepreneurship.
“He just seems like a normal rich white guy,” Ziya commented as Amie navigated back to the search results. “As normal as one of those can get, at least.” She snickered, pointing at one of the results. “He calls himself ‘The Dream Saver.’ ”
“Oh!” Amie sat up straight, the title jostling a memory loose. More than one memory, as her sojourn in the time loop tended to produce those in multiples. “The Dream Saver. I heard someonelistening to a podcast he was on. I spent the whole bus ride to our dinner listening to these guys talking about business because the person was blasting it from their phone.”
“Nightmare,” Ziya said as she took over scrolling. “Here’s his website.”
“He was talking about his entrepreneurship course,” Amie murmured, remembering. “And then he started telling a story about …”
Her breath caught as the familiar tale was suddenly cast in a new light.
“A while back, I began talking with a woman whose business I was interested in acquiring,”Oakland had said.“I’ll call her ‘Susannah’ for her privacy.”
“And to keep your lawyers from calling,”cracked one of the podcast hosts.
They’d all laughed.
“ ‘Susannah rejected my offer to help with her struggling business,’ ” Amie recited.
