Chapter 6 - One Dinner Became Something Else
Dora chose a twenty-four-hour taco place.
Leonardo arrived in a three-piece suit.
She stared at him.
“You wore that for tacos?”
“You said dinner.”
“I said casual.”
“This is casual.”
“You're wearing cuff links.”
Leonardo looked down.
“These aren't formal cuff links.”
Dora laughed so hard the cashier looked over.
That was their first date.
There was a second.
Then a third.
Leonardo never asked Dora to pretend his life was normal.
Dora never pretended she approved of all of it.
They argued constantly.
“You can't put security outside my apartment.”
“I already did.”
“Remove them.”
“No.”
“Leonardo.”
“They're across the street.”
“That isn't removing them.”
“They're very discreet.”
“One is six-foot-five and built like a refrigerator.”
“That's Marco.”
“I don't care what his name is.”
Eventually they compromised.
One unmarked car.
No men following her into grocery stores.
No guns inside Rusty's unless there was an emergency.
Dante called the agreement “the Dora Accords.”
Three months later, Dora arrived at work and found Leonardo behind the counter.
She stopped.
“What are you doing?”
“Making coffee.”
“You don't know how.”
“I've been watching you.”
He poured.
Dora tasted it.
Her face twisted.
“That's terrible.”
Leonardo frowned.
“It is coffee.”
“Technically.”
He pushed an envelope toward her.
Dora's expression immediately hardened.
“No money.”
“Open it.”
“No.”
“Please.”
She opened it.
Inside was a lease.
Dora stared.
“What is this?”
“The empty storefront two doors down.”
“Leonardo.”
“You said you wanted your own place.”
“I never said that.”
“You talk in your sleep.”
Dora's face went red.
“You listened?”
“You were asleep on my sofa.”
She looked at the lease.
A tiny restaurant space.
Affordable.
No gift.
No ownership transfer.
A legitimate commercial lease at below-market but defensible terms.
“You didn't buy it?”
“No.”
“You didn't threaten the owner?”
“No.”
“Did Dante?”
From the booth, Dante said, “Why am I always accused first?”
Dora ignored him.
“Then what did you do?”
“I introduced you to the landlord.”
“You did more than that.”
Leonardo hesitated.
“I guaranteed the first year.”
Dora pushed the papers back.
“No.”
“Dora.”
“I need to build something myself.”
“I know.”
“Then why—”
“Because accepting help isn't the same as being owned.”
She went silent.
Leonardo continued.
“Take the lease only if the business works on your income projections. Pay every dollar yourself. If it fails, I'll never mention it.”
“And the guarantee?”
“Insurance for the landlord. Not money for you.”
Dora looked at him for a long time.
“You thought about this.”
“Constantly.”
She looked again at the papers.
“What would I call it?”
Leonardo smiled.
“I have a suggestion.”
“No.”
“You haven't heard it.”
“If it includes Costa, absolutely not.”
“The Coffee Pot.”
Dora stared.
Dante burst out laughing.
She pointed at Leonardo.
“I almost assaulted you with that coffee pot.”
“Exactly.”
“You're insane.”
“You noticed late.”
Dora looked around Rusty's.
Four years.
Thousands of cups.
Thousands of aching hours.
Then she looked at the lease.
“Okay.”
Leonardo's smile disappeared.
“Okay?”
“One condition.”
“Of course.”
“You don't interfere.”
“With?”
“My restaurant.”
“Agreed.”
“You don't scare suppliers.”
“Agreed.”
“You don't send expensive furniture.”
Leonardo hesitated.
“Leonardo.”
“Agreed.”
“And you work one shift.”
Silence.
Dante started laughing again.
Leonardo slowly turned toward him.
Dante stopped.
Dora grinned.
“Saturday morning. Eight to noon.”
“I run several companies.”
“Then four hours shouldn't destroy your empire.”
Leonardo sighed.
“Fine.”
Dora held out her hand.
“Deal?”
He looked at it.
Then took it.
“Deal.”
She didn't release him.
May you like
Neither did he.
---
