Tristan had once haggled for ten minutes over a banana, so it came as no surprise to his friends when he fired the man he’d hired to put a roof over his new restaurant.
“Simply criminal prices,” he muttered. “Daylight robbery.”
A week of torrential rain left tables and chairs floating across the floor, but Tristan wouldn’t call back the crook he fired. That would be admitting he was wrong. And Tristan was never wrong.
The night before the grand opening, he purchased a few dozen umbrellas and strung them from the rafters, a paper-thin wall against the pounding rain.
Word Count: 100
This is for Friday Fictioneers. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for running the challenge and Dale Rogerson for providing the prompt photo!