makes sense.”
Gabriella pressed on, her excitement undeterred. “It’s perfect. You want to invest in something that’s meaningful. What’s more meaningful than everyone’s favorite morning spot? You love the Biscuit.”
“And we want to save it,” Joey said, jumping in. “If the Biscuit is closing, you have to buy it. Decided.” Joey and Gabriella clinked glasses as Madison balked.
“No, no, no,” she said calmly. “I won’t be buying a café. Are you insane? I have zero experience with running a restaurant and no time to learn or give to the place. I work here.”
Gabriella shrugged. “You don’t see Mr. Rothstein behind the counter, do you? That’s why you hire amazing people like Clementine Monroe. Because they know what they’re doing and will take your business to amazing heights.”
Madison laughed and shook her head. “Not gonna happen. Plus, the Rothsteins might hold on to the place and run it from afar.”
Still, when Madison ran into the Rothsteins on the cereal aisle two days later, she couldn’t help but inquire, after a few pleasantries. They’d been friends of her parents back in the day, and she felt comfortable enough to ask the question. “Is it true you two are moving out of Whisper Wall?” Madison asked as she made a grab for Frosted Flakes. “We’ll be so sad to lose you.”
“We’ll miss your wine,” Mrs. Rothstein said, adjusting the vegetables in her cart to make room for the giant handful of cereal boxes Mr. Rothstein had just dumped haphazardly inside. “But it’s true. We’ll be leaving for our new life in New Hampshire in under a month.”
“That’s so fast. What about the café? I might secretly have a personal interest in protecting my butter biscuit habit.”
Mr. Rothstein chuckled quietly, always a low-key guy. “You and half the town. I’ve put out some quiet feelers to see if anyone might want the place. If that doesn’t work, I’ll make a larger go of it and officially put it on the market.”
“Oh, wow. So it’s for sale?”
He nodded. “If there aren’t any takers, I’d hate to close up shop, but it might just fall that way. Let me know if you know of someone.”
“Tell them we’re in a hurry,” Mrs. Rothstein tossed in.
“I think I do know of someone.”
Mr. Rothstein’s eyebrows rose, and Mrs. Rothstein leaned in. “Who would that be?” he asked.
“Maybe me? I’d love to learn more about what you’re asking.” Madison couldn’t believe the words had just left her lips. Was she honestly doing this right now? The truth was she hadn’t been able to shake the notion of snatching up the place ever since her conversation with her friends in the tasting room. It was insane and impetuous, but also maybe not.
The Rothsteins exchanged a look. “Maybe we should sit down and have a conversation,” Mr. Rothstein said. “What do you say?”
“A little conversation can’t hurt, right?” Madison said, feeling uneasy but also weirdly excited. This actually felt like a realistic prospect now that she’d expressed interest out loud. And why not? She had the funds just sitting there, and she couldn’t let the Biscuit just fold up and lock its doors. The staff was amazing. The place was incredibly popular with the community. All things considered, this was at least an opportunity worth exploring, even if its scope was larger than she’d originally planned for herself.
Honestly, what did she have to lose?
Chapter Two
Clementine’s hands were shaking. She’d heard the news first from Brenda Anne at the Nifty Nickel gift shop. She didn’t quite believe it. Not fully. Next, Patsy at Patsy’s Boot and Scoot mentioned she’d also heard about the Rothsteins selling. That made the whole thing feel a little more real. Finally, that morning, Clementine heard the rumor again, this time from all four Biddies, who nodded wholeheartedly, confirming it all. Oh yes, Rothstein was moving and the Biscuit was on the market.
“Oh yes. It’s quite true,” Maude said, around a bite of her warm croissant. Clementine refreshed their coffees and nodded along. They didn’t offer table service at the Biscuit, but she liked going out of her way for the regulars to make their time at the café a little more comfortable. “No question. Times are a-changing, and the Biscuit is no different. Now we have that chain hotel, and we’re losing our gems one by one.”
“I don’t think we’ll lose this place,” Thelma said, frowning. “Will we? I couldn’t bear it.”
Janet raised a nervous finger. “I hope it stays and that the new owners don’t change much. I