5 Bikers for Valentines

The two of us stayed silent as we drank our coffees. That was the rule. When we needed coffee, there was no talking until coffee was finished. We traveled through town and passed by the bar, flipping it off as we went by. I could already feel the freedom whipping through my hair. I was within inches of being able to quit that dingy place and start my own business. I became more excited as the luxurious caffeine made its way through my veins and, as we pulled up to the diner, I was ready to talk.

“Okay, so what are these places you have for me to look at?” I asked.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Lindy said.

She pulled out her phone and opened numerous tabs. All the building she had up ranged from $100,000 to $500,000 – our price range for down payments. I wanted to stay away from the ones that were more expensive because I wanted to pay as much out of pocket as we could. The less debt we could go into with this type of venture, the more money we would be able to scrape off the top and take for ourselves. I knew it would take time to build up a devoted client base, which meant we were facing anywhere from six months to one year of not being able to make any significant profit for ourselves.

And I was going to pay Lindy before I paid myself. Since I’d be living in the building, I could afford to do it.

There was one building, however, that caught my eye. It was a rough-looking building and it was boarded up. It was three thousand square feet and was free-standing. It would need a lot of work, at least on the inside. The outside wasn’t too bad, especially for being boarded up for four years. The price was set cheap at $150,000 for everything, and it even had the lofted second story I was looking for.

Not only that, but the loft already had plumbing and electricity running through it. Jack pot!

“Holy shit, this place is awesome,” I said.

“I knew that one would catch

your eye. And the price is great. We could put thirty thousand down, take out a loan for the rest, and use our remaining one hundred thousand to fix up the place and get the equipment we’ll need,” Lindy said.

“That’s not a bad idea. If we could get approved for the other one-twenty, we’d be set. From the looks of it, it shouldn’t take more than about sixty thousand to do what we need to do inside, which would leave us forty for inventory, and I found a place we can get stuff wholesale for pretty cheap.”

“And you could put some of that into the loft upstairs so you’d have your own place.”

“No, no, no. Outfitting the loft is going to be with my own money. The business money isn’t gonna touch that place,” I said.

“But you need a place to stay. It has plumbing and wiring for electricity, but it has nothing else. You’d need to put up walls and get shit for a kitchen. It’ll take some money up front for you to move into a place like that.”

“It looks like the main area already has a bathroom. Sort of. It will when we renovate. I can use that to clean up until I can find the money to—”

“Emma.”

“Lindy, I’m not fighting with you on this. That’s my home, and the business money isn’t gonna fix up my new home. End of story,” I said.

“Fine. I take it this is the place you want to put an offer on?”

“I mean I want to go check it out tomorrow with you but, if all goes well, then yeah. I think it’s pretty damn perfect.”

“Well, pick one to have on the back burner in case this one falls through. You know, so we aren’t starting at square one,” she said.

“Well, considering that it’s been boarded up for four years, I don’t think the bank is going to turn us down.”

I could feel my dreams getting closer. Lindy was already on her phone setting up an appointment to go see the place tomorrow on our day off. We ordered our food and got to talking about how we would want to fix the place up, but my phone ringing interrupted our conversation.

And I groaned when I saw it was my mother.

“Fuck. Hold on,” I said. “Hey, Mom.”

“Did you leave the damn door open?” she asked.

“Did you tell everyone you fucked where our spare key is?” I asked.

“That’s none of your damn business. Lock the fucking door. You trying to get me killed?” she asked.

“Do you really want me to answer that question?”

“You’re not funny. Anyway, that’s not why I’m calling.”

“Shocker. Some dude steal your panties again?” I asked.