Inside the warehouse, Shane closed the door and threw the envelope directly into Kevin's arms.
Kevin took the envelope, squeezed its thickness, and raised his eyebrows.
"Hey, brother, what's this? A love letter? Or an IOU?"
Kevin was joking, but the feel of it told him there was money inside—for South Siders, the touch of money was more refreshing than alcohol.
He patted Shane on the shoulder and said:
"Seriously, Shane, if you're tight on cash this week, you don't have to give me this money yet. We're brothers, a few days don't matter. Your breakfast stall just started, I know..."
Shane didn't speak, just winked at him, signaling him to open it quickly.
Kevin blinked back. Seeing Shane's expression didn't look like he was joking, he didn't say more and tore open the seal directly.
Whoosh, a stack of bills, mostly $20s and $10s, slid out.
"Jesus!" Kevin couldn't help but exclaim. "How much is this? Did you guys rob a bank?!"
V, who had been standing on the side with a "let me see how you guys try to persuade me" expression, also couldn't hold back upon seeing the bills.
She stepped forward, snatched the stack of money from Kevin's hand, and started counting immediately.
"40... 140... 200... 400... 434!"
V shouted out the count, then looked up at Shane and Fiona, wanting to confirm if this was an hallucination.
"Kevin told me he gets 10% of the breakfast stall, so you guys made over $4,000 this week?!" V's voice unconsciously rose a bit.
"Holy shit, are you selling breakfast or drugs?" Kevin also looked at the two with shock.
V understood what this meant faster than Kevin. "Fiona, is this... is this real? Just from those two or three hours in the morning?"
Fiona stood aside with her hands on her hips, looking at their shocked expressions, feeling an inexplicable sense of satisfaction. No wonder Shane didn't tell her directly how much they made back then.
"And the construction site lunch too. Actually, mainly because Shane has good channels, the cost is very low, plus the location he chose is good, so many people buy it."
Fiona paused, looking straight into V's eyes.
"Come on, run the breakfast stall with me. I'll give you 20% of the morning profits. If your share isn't enough for $100 that morning, I'll give you $100 directly. Paid daily, cash, tax-free. How about it?"
Working just one morning a day for a guaranteed $100 means if everything goes smoothly, she could take home at least $3,000 a month.
This was a very tempting number, but V thought about it and didn't agree immediately.
Because V wasn't like Fiona. Fiona didn't have a stable and proper job; they were all part-time gigs.
So she could leave whenever she wanted. If one part-time job ended, she could pick up another.
But V was different. Her job as a nursing home caregiver was legitimate, with pay stubs and tax records.
Plus she occasionally took some cleaning gigs and bartended at the Alibi Room, so she could barely be counted as having one and a half stable jobs.
Here lay the gap. Someone like Fiona without a fixed job could jump at this kind of temporary high profit to run a breakfast stall, but she couldn't.
If something happened to this breakfast stall, like getting raided for operating without a license, or if a fine landed directly on her head... the old records of selling drugs in her file hadn't been expunged yet.
If an illegal street vending charge was added, the nursing home would probably fire her immediately. And if it affected the bar...
Although $100 or even more a day was very attractive, V had to weigh it.
"Well, well, well," V finally spoke.
"Fiona, this money looks like God just woke up, sneezed, and it happened to spray on our faces."
Kevin nodded immediately beside her. "Right, right, right, God remembered us. One sneeze gave us over 400."
V couldn't be bothered with Kevin, just continuing to look at Fiona.
"But you have to let me think about it. How many days has your stall been hot? 5 days? 6 days? Maybe the sun is shining today, but what if it's windy and snowy tomorrow? What if the patrol officers are in a bad mood, or jealous vendors come to find trouble?"
Fiona didn't refute. She couldn't; what V said were facts.
At this time, V said again:
"Also, I have shifts at the nursing home, and my shifts are basically in the morning. And this is a caregiving job, not a part-time gig where I can just not go if I don't want to. If I have to get up every morning to sell with you, I'd have to quit the shifts there or hand over, which isn't something I can decide with a clap of my hands."
As V spoke, her eyes still fell on the stack of bills in Kevin's hand.
Okay, although she had a stable job, no one could refuse a small job of two or three hours with a guaranteed minimum of at least $100.
Kevin fanned the bills out and closed them again, his fingers constantly rubbing over Franklin's portrait, making sure the money wasn't a magic prop.
"Fiona, don't think too much. After all, V has an income of four or five thousand dollars a month. She counts as a stable person. I've always wanted to be like her."
V glared at Kevin. "Shut up. Even with four or five thousand dollars a month, it all gets drunk by you anyway."
Kevin: "That's slander."
The eagerness in Fiona's eyes faded slightly, but she didn't give up, because V was indeed the most suitable candidate.
"I understand, V. But what if, what if my breakfast stall keeps running? Think about it, if you come to work for me, you don't have to look at those old geezers' faces anymore. Money goes straight into your pocket, and no taxes."
V thought about it.
"How about this, Fiona? Let me observe your stall for a week or two, see if it can really stand firm there. At the same time, I also need to spend some time looking at the schedule at the nursing home to adjust it, or find a replacement."
V didn't close the door completely.
"Of course, in these two weeks, if you are urgently short of hands one day, fire on your eyebrows, one call, and I will definitely be there. But for this full-time partnership, give me some time, and give yourselves some time too, okay?"
Fiona looked at the serious expression on V's face and knew it was unlikely to persuade Veronica now. But she was reluctant to offer more money.
Fiona nodded and extended her hand. "No problem, Ms. Veronica is welcome to join anytime."
Next to them, Kevin was still counting those dollars over and over again, muttering to himself, "10%... 434... Should I beg Shane to let me invest a bit more?"
Shane didn't participate in this whole process. Let Fiona handle these things. Anyway, Fiona would basically manage the breakfast stall later.
They chatted for a few more sentences. The four returned to the bar. Shane and Fiona clinked glasses. After a few beers, the two felt their nerves, which had been tight for a week, finally relax for a moment.