trying to remain patient, ‘but I do know that the market’s moved even more since then.’ He lifted his hands, palms towards her. ‘We’re not monsters here, we’ve actually held back on increasing the rent on a lot of our property because we know how hard it can be for small independent businesses to survive in London, but we have to move with the times.’
‘You know how hard it is to run a struggling business, do you?’ she shot back. ‘How utterly heartbreaking it is when a once thriving business starts to fail? How demoralising that can be?’ Her voice rose on each question. She glanced pointedly around his plush office with its high-end furniture and enviable London view then fixed him with a challenging look, her cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink but the expression in her eyes unwavering.
He experienced a shiver of guilt, but knew he couldn’t let it get to him. Everyone he came across these days seemed to have a sob story to tell him so that he’d agree to charge them less money for the property they rented from his company. He couldn’t let his personal feelings get in the way. This was business.
‘We live above the café,’ she said before he could form his careful reply. ‘If we can’t afford to keep the business going we’ll lose our home as well, but then I don’t expect you’d know how a threat like that feels either!’
If only that were the case.
He began to shake his head, but she took a step closer to his desk and put her hands over her heart, her cute little nose wrinkling again in a way that made something twist uncomfortably in his chest.
‘Is there any way I can persuade you to hold off for a little while longer?’ she asked in a voice wobbly with emotion. ‘Please. Just give me a chance to get a bit more business in.’
‘How do you intend to do that?’ he asked, genuinely interested. ‘Aren’t there a lot of other café options on Hampstead High Street?’
Her bold stance deflated a little. ‘Yes. Unfortunately there are. But they’re all chains owned by big corporations.’ She waved a dismissive hand. ‘We offer a more local, family-run atmosphere. And board games! Who doesn’t love playing board games?’
He shuffled a little in his chair. ‘Can’t say I’m a huge fan of them.’
‘You just haven’t played the right ones yet,’ she persisted. ‘If you come in you’ll see how much fun they can be. We have four hundred games to choose from. Something for everyone. We’ll even teach you how to play them.’
He shook his head, holding back the smile that was pushing at the corners of his mouth. Learning to play board games was the last thing he could imagine wanting to do with his precious time off. ‘As appealing as that sounds,’ he said, trying to keep the irony out of his voice, ‘that doesn’t tell me how you’re going to start making enough profit to pay your rent.’
‘I’m working on it,’ she stated, but her gaze wasn’t meeting his now; instead she was staring out towards the river, her hands clenched at her sides as if she was fighting to keep her composure. ‘I just need to find some time to do a bit of local advertising, update the website and post to the social media sites we’re on,’ she said, almost to herself. ‘Trouble is, I work long hours. I have a cleaning job at a gastro pub from seven thirty till ten, then I have to make the cakes and prepare the sandwiches we sell at the café, then we’re open from eleven till three. When we close I have to go shopping for supplies for both the café and the family and take care of anything my mum needs and then the café’s open again from five till ten pm. So there’s not been a lot of time for developing a high-concept business strategy.’
More guilt tried to shoulder its way in as she looked back at him with tired eyes.
He shook it off. This wasn’t his problem. He couldn’t allow it to become his problem either. He had enough of his own troubles to deal with right now.
‘Look, Soli, things are complicated for me at the moment and I’m afraid I don’t have time to deal with this today. I have an important meeting in a few minutes, so if you leave your contact details with my PA—’
She flinched at the hard edge he’d given his voice now, but didn’t move from where she stood.
‘Complicated? You think your life’s complicated? Beat this, buster.’ She pointed her finger at him. ‘I’m desperately trying to save the business my late father built from scratch, our family’s legacy, so I can afford to get my mother, who’s suffering with Parkinson’s disease, the care she needs whilst also trying to scrape together enough money to support my younger sister, who’s a brilliant mathematician with an offer from Oxford University, but who can’t afford to take the place there. And you’re making it even harder for me to do all that by raising our already extortionate rent. That’s complicated!’
The ensuing silence rang out loudly in the still air of his office.
‘Okay. Fine,’ he said resignedly when he saw a glint of tears in her eyes. ‘You win the “complicated” competition.’ He made a placating gesture. ‘But only just—believe me. My life isn’t exactly easy right now either.’
‘Look, is there some sort of arrangement we could come to here?’ she asked desperately, blinking back her tears and looking a little embarrassed about losing her cool. ‘Any sort of deal we could make which would give me a bit more time to try and turn the fortunes of the café around and make the money we need to afford the rent hike? I can’t lose the place. Not after all the love and hard graft my father put into it. It’s all we have left of him now.’ Despite her efforts, a single tear ran down her cheek.
He looked hurriedly away, frowning down at his desk. ‘I’ve already held back on rolling out the new rent and if I do it for you I’ll have to—’
‘Please. Have a heart,’ she broke in hoarsely, clearly aware she was losing the battle but seemingly not prepared to accept it. ‘I’ll do anything. I’ll come and work here for you when I’m not working at the café. I can type and make coffee, file things. Documents. Tidy up! I’ll do whatever it takes to keep our café running.’
The ring of hope in her voice clawed at his chest. He had to give her credit, she was certainly determined.
Or maybe just desperate.
His heart gave a hard thump. He knew what desperate felt like and he wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
‘Whatever it takes?’ he asked slowly, meeting her eyes again now. He wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but he had the strangest feeling there could be a solution here that he hadn’t quite hit upon yet.
‘Anything. Just name it,’ she said, her eyes wide with anticipation.
He sighed and shook his head. ‘The thing is, I have a PA already. There wouldn’t be anything for you to do here at the office.’
‘At your house, then? I’m a great cleaner. Fast and totally reliable.’
‘Got a whole team of those.’
‘Then what do you need? There has to be something.’
And there it was.
The idea.
But he couldn’t suggest that.
Could he?
No.
