‘…which brings me to the small town of Capricorn Cove. The Isle of Astipia, a small island kingdom that sits roughly halfway between the UK and North America, holds many hidden gems. But few as beautiful as this.’
The camera panned out, showing a bird’s eye view of the Cove.
‘With its rugged coastline, pristine beaches, and quaint town—not to mention its proximity to the mountains and skiing in winter—the only thing this area lacks to attract a thriving tourist market is a decent place to eat.’
The host of the travel show winked at the camera.
‘But fear not, there’s a local food truck called The Bronze Horseman that provides the best and freshest fish and chips I’ve ever eaten.’
Anika hit freeze on her phone before shoving it in my face. ‘See!’ she demanded, hopping up and down like a jackrabbit. ‘See?’
I leaned into our food van, attempting to avoid her flailing limbs. ‘That we’re mentioned on an international travel show?’
‘Yes! It’s like I told you, Ella. There’s a market for us.’ She twirled, her feet kicking up dirt in the gravel carpark. With almost aggressive excitement, she jabbed a finger at the abandoned building towering before us. ‘This is going to be our restaurant.’
My lips quirked. ‘Oh, so you didn’t drive me to an abandoned building in hopes of killing me for the insurance money.’
My best friend shot me a disgruntled look. ‘Quit joking. This is our restaurant, Ella. This is The Bronze Horseman.’
Located at the very end of the town’s main street and a short stroll down from the marina, the rundown wreck sat on a gigantic lot that consisted of mostly trash and weeds. Once upon a time, it had held a hardware and garden store with generous outdoor areas and a parking lot. Now it seemed destined to become a breeding ground for tetanus.
I kicked a rusting beer can, listening as it rattled in the quiet. ‘This? Really?’
‘Absolutely.’
Decades ago, Capricorn Cove had been a thriving fishing town with a bustling port and plentiful tourists and businesses. But when the town’s primary employer had decided to move their fishing production to one of the main islands, the town had been decimated overnight. Left with half-empty homes, a poorly maintained marina, and architecture in desperate need of a revamp. Our small town had long been struggling to rediscover who it was.
‘You’re mad.’ I eyed off the boarded-up door and shattered glass windows, shaking my head. ‘You cannot be serious.’
Unlike so many of our generation, we’d returned to the Cove hoping to take advantage of the cheap housing and proximity to the beach. But jobs were few and far between, forcing us to travel over an hour each way to the bigger cities that sandwiched our tiny town.
‘And you’re not seeing the vision.’ She reached out to squish my cheeks between her hands, her eyes bugging out as she stared into mine.
‘Close your eyes. Go on, close them.’
I grinned; despite living in Astipia for over a decade, she’d never entirely lost her accent, her clipped London tone taking on a sharper bite when she experienced heightened emotions.
With a sigh born from a decade of friendship, I humored her, my eyelids drifting shut.
‘Picture it, Ella,’ Anika whispered, her hands trembling against my cheeks. ‘A giant sign on the roof in beautiful bronze.’
‘That’ll be expensive.’
‘Shh.’ She dropped her hands, and I could hear her moving around the lot as she articulated her vision. ‘Big windows at the front—with hurricane shutters, of course.’
‘Of course,’ I echoed, tongue in cheek.
Anika, predictably, ignored me. ‘A manicured entry with shrubbery and some beautiful metal ornaments.’
The image she painted began to take shape in my mind.
‘Inside, we create a wood and metal wonderland offset with rich colors and decadent fabrics.’
‘We’ll need a bar,’ I murmured, picturing the space. ‘And a giant fireplace for winter.’
‘Absolutely!’ Anika clapped her hands together, the sound loud in the quiet of the afternoon. ‘The doors will open outward for summer, the lot cleared to have indoor-outdoor dining.’
‘We could do the food truck outside. Invite local and regional bands to play.’
‘Yes!’ Anika’s hands landed on my shoulders, squeezing. ‘And the kitchen will rival any in Paris, London, or New York.’
I opened my eyes, considering the shambolic state of the building. ‘It’s gonna be expensive.’ I reached out to tap the food van behind me. ‘At least with Betsy, we don’t have to worry about too many overheads. And we can shut her down or move around if there aren’t any crowds.’
‘But don’t you want more?’ She swept a hand out to encompass the building. ‘We’re not getting any younger—’
‘Yes, twenty-five is horrendously old.’
‘—and opportunities like this don’t come along every day.’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘This place hasn’t had a tenant since before I was born. Why are you in such a rush now?’
She bounced from foot to foot, her long black hair shimmering like a waterfall. ‘Because of this.’ She shoved her phone back in my face, the smiling presenter still frozen on her screen.
‘One TV show does not a success make.’
‘True.’ She tucked her phone away, throwing her hands out at the building. ‘But wouldn’t you rather try than wonder ‘what if’? What if this is the moment that tourists begin to flock to town? What if people decide that Astipia is the tourist destination this year? What if we’re not prepared, and we lose out on what could be an awesome opportunity?’
I bit my lip, knowing Anika was right.
‘But—’ I gestured at our dismal surroundings. ‘How will we afford this? We’re not just paying for a building. We’re buying land and parking.’
‘There’s a house out the back as well.’
‘And a house.’ I shook my head, a slight chuckle slipping free. ‘Ani, we’re successful as a food van. We’re able to afford a food van. This? It’s a lot.’
‘I’ve already thought of it.’ She scurried to the van’s cab, wrenching the door open and digging inside. ‘We’ll capitalize on the millionaires!’
I rolled my eyes as she tripped, her legs flailing.
‘Millionaires, I’m telling you. They’re our future.’ She triumphantly held up a binder as she leaped from the cab. ‘We both know millionaires are sweeping in to buy up the private beaches over the other side of town. They’re basically the only thing pumping money into the local area at the moment.’
I crossed my arms, nodding.
‘Well.’ She flipped open her binder with a flourish. ‘They’re gonna need a nice place for dinner during their weekend vacays and business holidays.’ She handed me the binder. ‘And we’ll be the answer to their hungry little prayers.’
It was a business plan not unlike the one I’d handed her three years ago when I’d first floated the idea of a food van. We’d been commuting an hour each way to the city to work in jobs we hated for people we despised. The first year we’d lived in a one-room apartment with a horrible landlord who refused to pay for the hot water to be fixed. Despite the hardship, we’d made bank and eventually moved out to our own places.
‘You even used the same font.’ I brushed a thumb over the thick paper. ‘Ani—’
‘No time to get emotional.’ She tapped the paper. ‘It’s all in here. Now, I know you don’t want to use the money your grandma left you, but—’
My heart skipped, my head jerking up as I took in the building with new eyes.
Nan’s money.
My inheritance had sat untouched for over a year. I’d been squirreling it away for a rainy day, my grief tied to the money in my bank account.
‘—but if we make it affordable and welcoming, even if it feels high class and caters to the VIPs, we can make a profit year-round.’ Anika pressed her hands together in a begging pose. ‘Please, Ella. Please say yes.’
The rain that had threatened all day began to fall, the light patter dusting my cheeks and nose. I tilted my head back, staring at the cloudy sky.
Looks like my rainy day has arrived.
I closed my eyes, feeling at peace with my decision.
‘All right,’ I told Anika, handing her the binder. ‘I’m in.’
I couldn’t be sure, but I highly suspected that even the King who lived over a thousand kilometers away heard her scream of joy.
