The Green and the Red by Armand Chauvel

Author:Armand Chauvel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ashland Creek Press
Published: 2014-01-15T16:00:00+00:00

Sixteen

Dressed in a sober business jacket and a pencil skirt that fell just above her knees, Léa entered the bank and asked to see the representative who was handling her file. The businesswoman look wasn’t really her style, but she’d made a special effort for this appointment since the future of La Dame Verte was at stake. After waiting fifteen minutes, Léa was on tenterhooks when the banker finally appeared, shook her hand, and asked her to follow him.

“Your application is very well put together. I must congratulate you on that.”

She hated the lecherous look he gave her as he pointed to the chair on the other side of the table. “I put a lot of work into it.”

“And it shows.” He opened a folder, glanced in it, and then closed it with a solemn expression. “Ms. Rystel, I’m going to be frank with you. Despite the thoroughness of your application, we are not one hundred percent convinced by your project.”

“What!” She grabbed the arm of her chair. “Because it’s a vegetarian restaurant?”

“The clientele you reach is marginal.”

“Marginal?”

“Let’s not get excited. I meant limited.”

“But more and more people have been coming in!” She took the folder and pulled out a chart—though the figures were a bit doctored, it was true. “See, right here!”

The man shrugged his shoulders. “If your restaurant were in the downtown area, I wouldn’t say no. You know better than me that when it comes to the restaurant business, it’s location, location, location.”

“But I can’t afford the rents downtown!”

“We’ve examined your application thoroughly, believe me.”

Yet her application was bulletproof. “All right, but what if I asked for less? Let’s say ten thousand euros instead of fifteen. With ten thousand, I could cover my next few payments and replenish my cash flow. I promise you won’t regret it.”

“Sorry.”

“Five thousand?”

“Ms. Rystel, my supervisors and I wish you all the best in your future endeavors,” he said, pushing the folder over to her.

Léa felt a hot anger bubbling up inside her. “Where are your supervisors? I demand to speak to the bank manager!”

“Calm down, Ms. Rystel, there’s no need to light your Molotov cocktails.”

He seemed to be enjoying the situation. She wanted to punch him. “What are you implying?”

“You heard what I said. As a ringleader of the vegetarian movement, you won’t have an easy time finding a bank willing to lend you this sum. At least not here in Rennes.”

She stood up. “Ringleader? You … you … ” She raised her hand.

Panicking, the man pressed a button to call for a security guard, forcing Léa to flee for the door, past a group of astonished bank customers.

Raindrops crashed against her face. The gray sky, the fronts of buildings, the expressionless eyes of people on the street—everything struck her as hostile. Ringleader! She began to wonder whether she wasn’t the victim of a conspiracy. She should have set up her restaurant in Ghent, Belgium, where 15 percent of the restaurants were vegetarian. But no, with her naive desire to help

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