Damien Vaughn didn’t take the wealthy woman’s car or phone; he just took the fifty thousand and left.
She’d already said her husband was bothered by his presence, and he wasn’t about to cause any trouble.
If he was going to make a break, it had to be a clean one.
Fifty thousand wasn’t a small amount. If he could find the right investment, he was confident he could get back on his feet quickly.
He didn’t feel the least bit negative. Damien Vaughn walked back, observing the shops along the way, and noticed that the businesses doing best were the coffee shops.
Europeans really did love their coffee.
But some weren’t doing well, like one particular shop along the river.
The shop was spacious and elegantly decorated. There was even a large outdoor area for patio umbrellas and tables, but it was empty. A huge "FOR LEASE" sign was posted on the door.
But that wasn’t what caught his eye. What made him notice this shop immediately was that, besides the English text, the sign also had two Chinese characters spelling out "Lease," which he recognized instantly.
Damien Vaughn immediately pushed open the coffee shop’s door.
The owner, a chubby middle-aged man, was wiping cups at the counter. When he saw Damien Vaughn walk in, he addressed him directly in Chinese.
"Hello, can I get you something to drink? What can I get for you?"
An hour later, thanks to his superb negotiation skills, Damien Vaughn had signed a takeover contract with the owner.
He would keep everything in the shop, and the owner would even share his supplier contacts. He paid the owner thirty thousand upfront, with the remaining fifty thousand to be paid off within three months.
The owner, deeply impressed by the talent Damien had shown, walked him to the door. As they reached it, Damien Vaughn suddenly asked him a question.
"Is there a Chinese medicine practitioner with a good reputation around here? My mother isn’t feeling well. Western medicine hasn’t helped, so I’d like to have her try traditional methods."
The owner wrote down an address for him. Following the slip of paper and asking for directions along the way, Damien Vaughn found the Chinese medicine clinic.
When he returned home, weary from his travels and carrying numerous bags of herbs, Sherry was baffled.
"Why did you buy so many Chinese herbs?"
"An experiment. Sherry, do you like milk tea?"
"Milk tea?"
In Sherry’s memory, that was something from a distant past.
"I love it. But I haven’t had it in years."
"Have you ever heard of ’herbal milk tea’?"
Sherry had been out of touch with the world for years, so of course she hadn’t.
"No, what is it?"
"I’ll make a few flavors for you to try tonight. Come and help me."
Fortunately, the computer Jean had lent him was still there. Damien Vaughn looked up tutorials online, and after a flurry of work with Sherry, they managed to get the flavor just right.
"This is delicious."
Sherry, who hadn’t had milk tea in years, had eyes that practically glowed.
"It’s so fragrant, and it has such a unique flavor. I love it."
His mother also tried a cup and, like a child, clamored for a second.
Damien Vaughn also gave two cups to the owner of their guesthouse, who praised it as well.
"This is delicious! What is it called? Where did you buy it? I’ve never had a tea this unique before."
’Everyone liked it. Looks like this could work,’ he thought.
The next day, Damien Vaughn and Sherry went to the shop.
He had a bold, eye-catching banner made, prepared a hundred cups of the drink, and went out to offer free samples to passersby.
The public’s reaction to the novel and delicious drink was electric, and the promotional buzz was instantly maxed out.
In the President’s Office at Vaughn Group, Cecelia Archer was working when the head of the sales department walked in.
"President Archer, there’s something I need to report. Please take a look at these two overseas trade orders. The clients had already signed contracts with us, but for some reason, the deals were suddenly transferred to another company. I don’t see your signature on the transfer. Were you aware of this?"
Cecelia Archer was not.
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