Eileen
That was quite the news that Ciara delivered. I’m just not sure where it will land her in the long run.
In the meantime, I can only focus on the things I can control. My stepsister isn’t one of them.
“My God, this place oozes potential!” Laura exclaims as she walks into the café.
For now, it’s still an empty space, rife with possibilities. Laura shines like a diamond in the middle of it, with her peach pantsuit and cream-colored heels.
“I didn’t expect you,” I say, giving her a warm smile. “What are you doing here?”
“You don’t sound happy to see me,” she replies, pasting on a fake pout.
“On the contrary, I’m very happy to see you! I could use the extra pair of eyes!”
“I figured as much when Andrei told me he had to swallow his gargantuan ego to help Alex close this deal,” she laughs. “So, first and foremost, congratulations! This is long overdue. Second, what are we thinking?”
I look around once again, wishing she could see the image I have in my head. “Ian is helping me out with the measurements. The interior decorator has already been here, and we agreed on a preliminary game plan.”
“Okay. Talk to me. What’s the game plan?”
Ian gives Laura a warm smile before he goes back to his notes, carefully measuring every wall and angle until the page looks like something out of a mathematician’s wet dream. The man is definitely detail-oriented and multifaceted, I’ll give him that.
“Well, I’m thinking cozy, but not too cozy. Warm and welcoming, but not a replica of the coffee shop down the street.”
“Obviously not, this is Gold Coast,” Laura replies. “You need warm but snazzy as hell. People in this area are as uppity as they come.”
“I’m close to finalizing a deal with several countries for their single-origin beans, courtesy of the Fairtrade Foundation.”
“Yeah, that’s great and all, but I’m interested in the café itself and the décor. Are we doing café tables and chairs, or cozy booths and sofas with mellow jazz music?”
“It would be somewhere in between,” I reply. “I’m thinking of a lounge section over there,” I point to the eastern quarter of the room. “Tables and chairs over by the western windows, close to the kitchen and easier for the waitstaff. The coffee bar is going to be right here, smack in the middle, a big, circular centerpiece,” I finish, twirling around in the center of the room.
Laura’s eyes widen with excitement. “Oh, that sounds marvelous.”
“I think so, too. It will have coffee beans from around the world, a nice selection of fine teas, and artisanal hot chocolate.”
She nods excitedly. “Excellent. What about food?”
“The bar will have a pastry section filled with a variety of pastries baked fresh every morning. Italian cakes, French croissants, Danishes, etc. I was thinking about offering some breakfast sandwich options, too, for people on the go. Everything else will be on the bistro menu. I’m also looking into getting an in-house master chocolatier—there’s room next to the roastery for a confectionery space. Something unique to our café. It could be the start of a gourmet brand.”
“What’s your color scheme?”
I laugh lightly. “Oh, wow, I feel like I’m at a job interview.”
“More like Shark Tank. Talk to me,” Laura replies, an excited expression on her face. It warms my heart to have her support and enthusiasm.
I give her a curious look. “Shark Tank? Are you interested in making an investment?”
“Maybe. You’ve got spunk and a fabulous entrepreneurial spirit. Anton wouldn’t have bought this place if he didn’t have faith in you. We never got around to looking at that vision board of yours, though, and I don’t remember all the details. So, walk me through it. I just may have a chocolatier for you.”
“Oh?”
“An ex-colleague of mine from Paris. He just wrapped up a ten-year contract at Hotel Costes, and he’s looking to put his roots down back here in his hometown.”
“And the good news just keeps on coming.” I smile broadly. “It was salmon and gold, for the most part.”
“What was?” Laura asks.
“The color scheme,” Ian and I reply at the same time.
I give him a warm smile. “You remembered.”
“With plush cream-colored seating, I believe?” he adds.
“Ditch the yellow gold, go for white gold,” Laura suggests. “Do off-white or ivory and emerald-green seating. Play with the bold contrast across the entire lounge area. The dining space should follow along the same lines, with cream, powder pink, and lime-green chairs. White marble tables with white gold for the metallic details. Oh, I can already see it coming together,” she gasps with delight.
I join in on the fun as we casually stroll around the room, our gazes lost in the future. I point to the ceiling. “Tom Dixon lighting. You know, those minimalistic orbs?”
“The white-gold ones and throw in a black smoked-glass version here and there.”
“For contrast, yeah, I see where you’re going with this.”
Laura pauses to affectionately look at me. “Anton is the luckiest son of a gun, I’ll tell you that much.”
“What makes you say that?” I laugh, feeling my cheeks blush.
“Because we’re going to be on the same page when it comes to renovating the Karpov mansion. I’ve got that on my project sheet, and I’m going to need your stylish brain to back me for what I’m about to do with that place.”
“In that case, it sounds like you’re the lucky one, not Anton.”
Laura thinks about it for a second. “No, he’s the lucky one. You are literally the first woman he’s ever brought home that I actually adore.”
“You’re too kind.”
“I’m honest. I don’t care much for your stepsister.”
“I don’t think Ciara cares much for herself either, sometimes.” I sigh deeply.
“How is she doing?” Laura asks. “We’re all pretty jittery about that engagement of hers, to be honest. Even some of the families in the Bratva have expressed concerns on the matter, but Anton and Andrei are doing their best, trying to calm them regarding the possibilities to come.”
Just then, I hear the doors open. I turn to see who it is.
“Paddy!” I exclaim as I recognize my father’s most trusted security enforcer. “What are you doing here?” I rush over to hug him.
“Eileen,” he exhales sharply as we pull away from embracing.
My heart thunders as I see the tears pooling in his eyes. “Paddy, what’s wrong?”
“It’s your father. Ciara wanted to call you, she wanted to tell you herself, but she’s already overwhelmed by all the preparations that need to be handled.”
“What about my father?”
I already know. I can hear it in the tremor of his voice. I can see it in his eyes. The grief. The heartbreak. Instinctively, I reach out to Laura, needing someone to hold on to for the awful words that I know I’m about to hear.
“He passed away this morning, Eileen. I’m so sorry,” Paddy says.
Standing still, I take a deep breath as the news hits me. I would’ve been shocked had I not seen Dad’s health declining over the past few months. The grief is still unbearable, though.
“My condolences, Eileen,” Ian says, coming closer and placing his hand on my shoulder. His voice is soft and gentle, his gaze oddly comforting as I look at him. “Truly a terrible loss. How can I help?”
“I… I don’t know.”
It’s the truth. My mind is drawing a complete blank. I want to cry. I want to scream, shout, and curse at the universe. But my babies are counting on me to take care of both my mental and physical health. They cannot be collateral victims of the burning grief that is itching to consume me.
“We should let Anton know,” Laura suggests. “And we should take you to see Ciara.” She looks at Paddy. “I assume she’s at home?”
Paddy nods. “Aye. Ciara wants to hold the wake tomorrow and the funeral on Saturday.”
“Yes, I need to see Ciara,” I manage to say.
It’s all I can manage.
