Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Armando looked pained as he pushed his slightly overgrown black hair out of his eyes. “I hate the fact that my financial situation affects him. He shouldn’t have to think about that stuff.”
“I didn’t tell you that because I wanted to make you feel bad. I just want you to understand where I’m coming from with what I’m about to say. More than anything, I want Kit to be happy. I also really like you and the diner, and I want you to succeed. That’s why I have a business proposition for you.”
“Okay, let’s hear it.”
“I want to become your silent partner, emphasis on the word ‘silent.’ All the decisions will still be yours. I’d like to invest enough to pay off your business loans, and to refurbish the diner.”
Understandably, Armando looked skeptical. “I’m not sure you realize how much money that would take.”
I pulled my phone from my pocket and tapped the screen before turning it to face him. “I called my financial advisor, and she helped me crunch some numbers. Some of my money is tied up in long-term investments, but this amount can be made available to invest in the diner. Would it be enough for what I just mentioned?”
His eyes went wide as he read the dollar amount on the screen. “More than enough. Do you really have that much money?”
I nodded. It was roughly a third of my trust fund. The rest was earmarked for two things—my scholarship program, and Kit. I’d made arrangements, so all of my long-term investments would transfer to him after I was gone. I just really needed to know he was going to be okay, above and beyond what I was trying to do for his dad.
Armando looked stunned. “I don’t understand why you’d want to do this. You barely know me.”
“I know everything I need to. You and Kit are wonderful people, and the diner is a lifeline for a lot of your customers, especially the older ones. I saw the way you kept comping meals for several of your regulars, because you know they’re barely getting by. I also know the free dinners you provide on the holidays are about more than food. You’ve created a family, and a community. A lot of those seniors don’t have any place else to go. They’d be all alone if it wasn’t for you and the diner.”
“But this is so much money…”
“You give and give and give, Armando. It’s time someone did something for you.”
He whispered, “I can’t believe this.”
“I know it’s a lot to take in. But are you interested?”
“Yes! God, yes.”
“Fantastic!” I pulled a business card from my wallet and handed it to him. “This is my lawyer’s contact information. I already emailed him to give him a heads up about what I want to do here. Whenever you’re ready, give him a call, and he’ll work with you to draw up a contract. I want you to have full input into what it says, and I want you to know there won’t be any sneaky hidden clauses or anything like that.”
Armando said, “I’m not worried about that. I trust you, Devon.”
“I trust you, too, and I know this money will go to good use.”
A wistful look appeared in his dark eyes. “There’s so much I’ve always wanted to do but could never afford, like restoring the art deco details on the façade, and upgrading to a reliable deep fryer that doesn’t shut itself off every twenty minutes, and replacing the worn-out linoleum flooring in the dining room. I’ve had a wish list in the back of my mind for years. But are you sure you don’t want any say in how the money’s spent?”
“My only hope would be that you try to keep some of its vintage charm,” I said. “But if you decide to gut it and modernize it, that’s your call.”
“I’d never do that. I’m all about preserving as much of the diner’s history as possible.”
“See? We’re totally on the same page. And that’s the one and only thing I’ll ever say about how you use that money.”
He seemed dazed. “This feels like a dream. I can’t believe it’s really happening.”
“What’s really happening?” We both turned toward the sound of Kit’s sleepy voice in the doorway.
“Devon wants to invest in the diner,” Armando explained. “It’s a huge amount, enough to pay off my loans, fix the place up, and hire some more staff.”
Kit’s forehead creased with concern as he asked me, “Can we talk in private for a minute?”
“Of course.”
We cut through the living room to the narrow balcony, which was barely big enough to hold two plastic chairs. As soon as he shut the sliding glass door behind us, Kit took both my hands in his. “I’m going to say this as gently as I can,” he began, as he looked up at me. “You’re not going to die, Devon. Curses aren’t real. Neither are psychics. It’s incredibly sweet of you to want to help my dad, but you’re going to need that money. You can’t give it all away.”