Chapter 7 - The Hostile Takeover
The bell above the diner door didn't just chime; it practically screamed as Julian kicked the door open.
Mr. Dale was behind the counter, startled by the sudden entrance. "Hey! You can't just—"
Julian walked up to the counter, slamming his leather briefcase down on the laminate surface. "Mr. Dale, I believe."
"Yeah, that’s me. And if you're here about Sophie—"
"I’m here about your business," Julian said, his voice cold, sharp, and terrifyingly professional. He opened his briefcase, pulling out a stack of documents. "This is a valuation of The Golden Griddle. Your building lease is up for renewal next month. The land owner is a subsidiary of Vance Enterprises."
Mr. Dale’s mouth fell open. "What?"
"Furthermore," Julian continued, leaning in close, "I have spent the last hour having my legal team audit your tax filings and employee pay records. It seems you have been underpaying your staff, violating labor laws, and skimming cash from the register to avoid corporate tax. If I hand these documents to the IRS, you will not only lose this diner, you will spend the next five to ten years in a federal penitentiary."
Mr. Dale looked like he was about to have a heart attack. He grabbed the counter to steady himself. "You... you can't do this! This is my life!"
"You ruined Sophie's livelihood because of your petty, miserable jealousy," Julian hissed. "Now, you have two choices. You can sign this diner over to me for fifty percent of its market value—which is more than you deserve—and I will decline to send these documents to the authorities. Or, you can walk out of here in handcuffs."
Within fifteen minutes, Mr. Dale had signed the contract.
Julian walked out of the diner, the ownership papers of The Golden Griddle in his hand. He walked over to Sophie’s old sedan, where she was watching him with wide, stunned eyes.
He tapped on her window. She rolled it down.
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"You don't have to worry about Mr. Dale anymore, Sophie," Julian said, handing her the papers. "And you don't have to work as a waitress. You are now the official owner and head pastry chef of Sophie’s Bakery & Diner. The building is yours. The staff is yours. And your first order of business is to change the name on the sign."
Sophie stared at the papers, then up at Julian. She got out of the car, throwing her arms around his neck, weeping with joy. "Thank you... oh my God, Julian, thank you!"
