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That night, I lay awake, telling myself it would pass. Internet outrage always did. People moved on, and tomorrow would be better.
It wasn’t.
Chairs stayed pushed in. The pastry case stayed full. My barista asked if her hours were being cut.
That was the moment I knew hoping wasn’t a strategy.
You can only tell yourself it’ll blow over for so long before you have to face the numbers.
And the numbers were brutal.
Revenue was down, produce was going bad in the walk-in, and bread was getting stale on the shelves.
I called Jeff back.
“You might be able to take legal action, but I’m not sure that will win back public opinion. I know you don’t want to hear this, but maybe you should just play the game, Meredith.”
“What do you mean, Jeff?”
The thought made me sick.
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