My Landlord Stole My Restaurant,So I Let Him Fail
Chapter 5
4
I allowed myself a small smile. This massive wave of new business couldn't have come at a better time.
“Good.”
“I was actually planning to expand the restaurant.”
My father paused, then added a reminder：
“The company's holiday break starts today. Everyone's back the first week after New Year's. If you're expanding, you'd better have everything ready by then.”
I agreed, hung up, and told my staff to go home and rest. They just needed to show up the first week after New Year's.
Over the next several days, I threw myself into renovating the new space.
The three-story building totaled about 8,600 square feet, more than four times the size of my old place.
I planned to turn the first floor into the main fast-casual hall with over a hundred tables, set up for quick ordering, tray service, and efficient seating.
The second floor would be a made-to-order section with individual wok dishes, perfect for small groups grabbing dinner together.
The third floor would house private dining rooms for mid-level managers who needed a place to eat and talk business.
The timeline was brutal, but the renovation crew was the same team I'd worked with before. They were fast and they were good.
I had them running day and night in two shifts. Workers rotated; the equipment never stopped.
Every day I was on-site supervising, from the overall floor plan down to where each light fixture hung. Nothing got decided without me.
While I was buried in construction, Brendan wasn't sitting idle either.
Word was he and Adela had mortgaged their house and borrowed heavily to knock through walls, renovate, and buy equipment.
They'd also signed a long-term contract with my old seafood supplier, locking in a minimum monthly order of at least twice what I used to buy. If they fell short, the penalty fees were enormous.
When Brendan saw me lease the three-story building and gear up for a fast-casual concept, he laughed right in my face：
“Myron, did you fry your last brain cell?”
“Don't you know fast-casual joints have the highest failure rate on this whole street?”
“You pulled in over two million at our old shop on pure dumb luck, and now you're mistaking that luck for talent?”
Adela looked at me the way someone looks at a lost cause：
“Exactly. Leasing a space that big for a fast-casual place? That's a death wish.”
“What, you think having a bigger storefront means you can compete with us?”
I didn't bother explaining. I just pushed the renovation faster.
Before long, the space was finished. I immediately bought brand-new stoves and kitchen equipment.
Then I hired twenty skilled chefs who knew their way around a professional kitchen.
Everything was in place. The first week after New Year's, the new restaurant officially opened.
Brendan's place opened on the same day.
Worried about losing the old customer base, he deliberately kept the original restaurant name.
But he'd also hung a massive banner across his entrance：
“Original Seafood Buffet, Now Upgraded! Better Flavors, Same Location. Come In and Try Us!”
Rainey and the rest of my crew saw it and nearly lost it：
“Boss, he's literally riding on the reputation we built to steal our customers.”
“How is that any different from robbery?”
I smiled calmly：“Relax. What's mine, he can't take.”
The words had barely left my mouth when a commotion erupted from the end of the street.
Everyone turned to look. Rounding the corner at the far end of the block, a massive crowd was pouring in.
They filled the street from sidewalk to sidewalk, so many you couldn't see where the line ended.
The sight of that tidal wave of people sent Brendan into a frenzy：
“Here they come! Here they come!”
“Every last customer from the old seafood place, they're all here!”
Adela was practically bouncing：
“I told you! People around here can't resist seafood. The second we open, every regular comes running back!”
“We're rich! We are going to be rich!”
Watching those giddy grins spread across their faces, I smiled too.
The show was about to begin.
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