“Circumspect?” There’s a playful smirk on Amy’s face, completely at odds with the news she’s just dumped on me. How dare she look so goddamn beautiful at a time like this.

“Yes,” I snap. “Cautious, discreet.” With every word now, I can hear my French accent seeping into my English words, which only ever happens when I’m emotional.

I’m blinking too much. Not because I’m crying, I just don’t know what to do with my eyes. “It’s...smart. Thanks. Whatever.”

She winces. In the harsh glow of the single white light bulb hanging from the ceiling, she’s washed-out and pale. There are dark circles under her eyes that either showed up spontaneously or I didn’t notice until now. “Sophie, don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying,” I snarl, as I dash tears from cheeks. The worst part is she’s right. We should be careful. The last thing I want is for the cameras to pick up on how stupidly obsessed I am with her. That would almost be as embarrassing as this moment right now.

“I get it, okay? I know I come on too strong and you’re not interested in anything...” I gesture at her. “Serious. But I don’t want to take the other job just because of us.”

I sniffle, pulling myself together. “I can be professional. I am professional.”

“No.” She stands, coming around the desk. “This isn’t because of you.” She presses the heels of her hands into her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m terrible at this.”

“What the fuck is happening?”

“I don’t think we’re going to be open by the time the show airs.”

“But...we’re doing better, I thought. Right? We did well tonight. We did okay.”

She shakes her head. “It’s not enough. I need...” She closes her eyes, wincing like she’s in actual pain. “I need to come up with some money or else we’re going to lose the space. But if I scrounge the funds, we won’t be able to pay our vendors next week.” She shrugs. “I’ve done the math a thousand times but unless we get a sudden influx of cash...we’re done.”

I sit up straight, the sudden burst of inspiration feels like butterflies in my stomach. The fluorescent light buzzes overhead.

“You need an investor.”

“I honestly don’t know what I need anymore. I can’t think.”

It all comes together too slowly in my mind, puzzle pieces that I’ve turned over and over again until finally they fit. Slowly, I stand.

“Let me get this straight.”

She looks up.

“You’re such a control freak that you won’t even let your head chef look at the numbers on the books. And then, when confronted with a problem of funds, instead of doing what any normal person would do and asking for help, you tell me to find a new job?”

Amy’s eyes are huge, and somehow, she’s even paler than before. “Well, yeah. I...”

“You didn’t think I could help. You didn’t think that maybe I might be interested in investing in this business? That I might have some stake in this?” My voice bounces off the close brick walls of the office. Now I’m thankful for my crop top. The built in draft is the only thing keeping me from burning up in flames.