Tony stepped into the café, the morning rush in full swing. The smell of fresh coffee and pastries filled the air as customers bustled in and out. Emilia sat at the cash counter, her eyes scanning the crowd, a pencil tucked behind her ear. The café was her pride and joy, pulling in a steady $60,000 in net profit every year—enough to give Tony a comfortable life. On top of that, she owned six prime real estate plots, some inherited from her late husband, others snapped up with her sharp business sense.
Emilia sighed, lost in thought. The recession's got people flocking to cafés. Maybe Tony's right about expanding. Her mind was still turning over his idea when a familiar voice snapped her back to reality.
"Grandma, I'm here. Come with me, I'll tell you about the plan," Tony said, standing in front of the counter with a confident grin.
"Oh, baby, gimme a sec. I'll get someone to cover," Emilia replied, turning toward the kitchen. "Olivia! Can you take the counter? I'll be back in an hour."
"Coming, ma'am!" called a voice. A beautiful brown-haired girl with hazel eyes appeared, slipping off her apron. Tony recognized her instantly—Olivia Rose. In his past life, she'd been one of the few who stayed loyal to the café until Emilia's death. Emilia had saved her from a grim fate when Olivia's uncle tried to force himself on her. From that moment, Olivia trusted no one but Emilia.
Tony followed his grandmother to a small break room used by the staff during downtime. With the morning rush in full swing, all seven workers were out front, leaving the room empty. They sat at a worn wooden table, and Emilia looked at him expectantly. "Alright, Tony, lay it out. If I like this plan, we'll run with it."
Tony leaned forward, his eyes bright with ambition. "Grandma, I want to turn the café into a chain that takes over the whole U.S. But we start right here in New York."
Emilia nodded, motioning for him to go on.
"We've got three plots in Manhattan, one in Queens, one in Brooklyn" he continued. "We build new locations on our land—no rent to worry about. Each store needs seven workers, including a store manager. Then we hire a quality inspector to check each café daily and a city manager to oversee all the New York locations and report to a head office."
Emilia tilted her head, considering. "It's a solid plan, Tony, but we'll need something special to stand out. There's a ton of competition out there," she said with a gentle smile.
"Got it covered, Grandma. Hold on a sec," Tony said, flashing a confident grin. He stood and headed to the kitchen.
The workers barely glanced up as he walked in—Tony wasn't a stranger to pitching in during busy rushes. He tied on an apron, grabbed a pan, and got to work. He poured two cups of water and 300 grams of sugar into the pan, heating it over a medium flame until the sugar dissolved. Once it was ready, he took it off the stove, whisked in a tablespoon of xanthan gum (since the blender was occupied), and blended it by hand until smooth. He popped the mixture into the freezer to chill.
Fifteen minutes later, he asked a worker to grab him 60 ml of espresso. With the espresso in hand, he tossed 200 grams of ice into a blender jar, added the espresso, 120 ml of milk, 30 ml of his chilled base, and 20 ml of vanilla syrup. He blended it on high until it was creamy, no ice chunks in sight, then poured it into a 16-ounce cup.
Carrying the drink back to the break room, he handed it to Emilia. "Grandma, try this. I call it the Frappuccino. You can make it in all kinds of flavors, maybe even top it with whipped cream."
Emilia took a cautious sip while Tony's mind raced. In my last life, I was into tech, finance, movies, and food. The Frappuccino didn't hit the scene until '92, and Starbucks bought it in '94. If I get this out three years early, we're looking at the world's biggest coffee chain.
Emilia's eyes lit up as she swallowed. "Tony, this is incredible. It's smooth, bold but not bitter, with a creamy, custard-like finish. The coffee lingers just right. This could make us giants in the industry."
Tony grinned. "So, what do you think of the plan now? I've even got a number for how many stores we should aim for in New York."
"I'm in," Emilia said, her smile wide. "How many are we talking?"
"Nineteen cafés," Tony said. "Eight in Manhattan, four in Brooklyn, four in Queens, two in the Bronx, and one in Staten Island. Counting the two we already have, that's seventeen new stores. We can build six on the land we own—prime spots with crazy foot traffic. The other eleven, we'll need to buy land for."
Emilia grabbed a notepad and started crunching numbers. After a few minutes, she looked up, frowning. "Tony, we're talking $1 million just for the land and another $3 million for construction. Where are we getting that kind of money?"
"Don't worry, Grandma," Tony said, leaning back. "We can take out a loan using the cafés and the plots as collateral. Build a few stores first, get the cash flowing, then tackle the rest over the next two years."
Emilia nodded slowly, her eyes gleaming with pride. "You've got a head for this, kiddo. Let's do it."