A Million for a Dream

“I won’t steal extra minutes from you or from myself. I’ll get straight to the point: I’m ready to invest fully in your coffee shop—pay for everything, from renovations to buying equipment. The location will be the best, right in the center. The money is on me, and from you—I need the idea, the atmosphere, and the soul.

I catch my breath. I know far too well the price of “gifts”: free things only happen in a trap. Arseniy sits up abruptly in his chair.

“On what terms?” Challenge rings in his voice.

Slowly, Arseniy pushes his tablet aside, folds his hands on the table. For a second, his gaze lingers on me and then returns to Ilya.

“There’s only one condition. And it has nothing to do with business. It’s personal.”

In the room, a heavy, ringing pause hangs in the air. I involuntarily press back into the chair.

“I’m offering a deal,” he continues, not taking his eyes off me, but speaking to Ilya. “A million dollars. Cash. Right away…”