Her words pierce the little protective bubble I’d put around my heart over the last few days. I sigh, and it feels like the first breath of air after being underwater. “You don’t know how much I needed to hear that.”
“Have you told Brendan yet?” Elana asks.
I shake my head. “Not yet. But I knew I had to stay and fight for him.” I glance at the ladies who are hanging on my words now. “The only problem is, now I have nothing to help my family save our coffee shop. No contract. No plan B.”
“Your family hasus,” Isabella interrupts with the wisdom of someone who’s seen her share of hard times. “We can help you figure out a solution. If Rafael won’t give you the contract, we’ll come up with your plan B.”
“But how can you possibly help?” I say.
She places a hand on the table. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves here. First, we need those Americanos.” Isabella points at the espresso machine. “We can’t make plans to turn this business around until we’re well-caffeinated!”
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” I rush to the counter and finish the Americanos, then bring them and a few pastries to their table near the front window.
For the first time, I finally feel like I’m not alone in trying to solve this. “Do you think there’s any way to save the cafe without the contract?”
Isabella looks at Rosa and Elana. “Well, I know three women who are looking to make an investment in a small business.”
They’re all smirking at each other over their coffee cups. “Really! Who?”
“Us, of course!” Isabella says, setting her cup down. She has a gleam in her eye that tells me she’s been concocting a plan. “You need to expand. But you don’t have the funds to open a second location, correct?”
“Yes, not without help.”
Isabella folds her hands on the table. “Have you considered a food truck? It would be less risky than another lease, and it offers you mobility and opportunities for expansion. You could take your coffee and baked goods and show up where the crowds are. Just think of all the local events at the beach—you could even go as far as Charleston.”
“Maybe even park outside the Ice House Arena.” Elana smirks. “You’d make a killing!”
“What do you think?” Isabella asks.
“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” I say, trying to let them down slowly. “But I can’t afford a truck.”
“Who said anything about money?” Elana waves her hand like that’s the least of anyone’s problems. “I’ll start looking for trucks right now.” She pulls her phone out.
“What we’re trying to say is that we want to help you,” Rosaclarifies. “An old lady like me could use some excitement in my life!”
“We’ll even provide the startup capital,” Isabella says.
“No.” I shake my head firmly. “I can’t take a loan from you. My brother learned that lesson the hard way.”
“It’s not a loan,” Isabella corrects, “it’s an investment. We want to be partners.”
I stare at her. “You want to go into business with my family?”
“Yes.” She leans forward, her elbows propped on the table. “All three of us see something in you that we recognize.”
“What’s that?”
“Marco ambition,” Isabella says proudly. “Refusal to quit, even when everything’s falling apart. Stubborn determination to take care of your family, no matter what it costs you. That’s Marco DNA, my dear, whether you have the last name or not.”
Something swells inside me. My stubbornness isn’t a liability; it can be a superpower too.
“We’re not asking for an answer right now,” Elana adds, pausing her used truck search. “But if we find you a vehicle, will you at least consider a partnership?”
I look at the three of them—these women who are choosing to believe in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. They’re offering me a way forward that doesn’t depend on Rafael’s approval or anyone’s permission.
For the first time since my dad got sick, I don’t feel alone.
“I’ll consider it,” I say, suddenly feeling better than I have in weeks. “Actually, more than consider it. Yes, I want to do this!”