“Don’t apologize. Never apologize.”
“You’re too nice.” I wasn’t sure if she was cheering up or sliding deeper into depression—maybe both. Maybe I was hurting her. I couldn’t think like that. I wanted to enjoy our night together. She clearly wanted the same because she brightened up when we got out of the limo.
The owner, Frank, was outside waiting when we walked up to the front. “Jake, man, how are you?”
“Fantastic.” I led Mercedes in. “How’s business?”
“Good, could be better. What can I get you?”
Mercedes looked over the glass case. “Salted caramel,” she mumbled.
“Is that what you want?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said definitively.
“Two salted caramel cones.”
“Coming right up.” Frank made our cones, and I led Mercedes out back toward the patio.
“Why is this your favorite place?” she asked when she sat down.
I swallowed my ice cream. “This is where I started out.”
“Here? Your first job?”
“You think that’s strange?”
“I don’t know. I always thought it was something a bit more glamorous, considering where you are now.”
“That’s hardly ever the case. I know that sounds weird, but you don’t make that kind of money by dealing with rich people. They’re what I call hoarders. You have to fight your way up.”
“How’d you do it?”
“I worked here for three years while I lived with my parents and didn’t spend a cent. When the owner decided to sell, I got a loan out and bought it.”
“How did you make billions off this place?”
“You don’t. I was a one-man ice cream parlor. I would walk up and down the sidewalk in front, screaming out to people and passing out samples. It was terrible. At that point, my parents got tired of me, but I couldn’t afford to run the place and pay my bills. It was just too much.” I pointed at the back door behind us.
“Are you saying?”
“I slept back in the office for two years and never spent a single penny on anything but the business. I got all my clothes from clothes bins and survived off nothing but cones and ice cream. It was hard times. I almost lost it, but I pulled through, and when I did, I sold the place for three times what I bought it for. After that, I started over and did the same thing with my first restaurant. I worked the tables, I did the dishes and dealt with the customers, and I hated every second of it. But I knew the sacrifice would be worth it.”
“How did you stay sane?” she asked.
“I still don’t know. I just wanted to do something worthwhile. I knew that I had the potential for greatness, and I wasn’t going to waste it.”
“Do you still feel that way?”
“I don’t know. I feel like there should be something more, but I don’t know what it is.” I knew exactly what it was, but I knew I never had it. “I see something in you too, you know.” I took a bite of my ice cream.
“I can barely get a job,” she scoffed.
“But that’s the world we live in now. You remember how much easier things were for us.”
“Yeah, I miss that.”
“And I do too, but even if I was growing up now, I wouldn’t give up. I would fight even harder than I did back then. I probably wouldn’t have made it, but I wouldn’t have stopped.”