Page 84 of Good Directions

“As sexy as that sounds, I do have to figure this out. I’m kinda on a deadline.”

“What’s the rush?”

“Well, I was hoping to have complete, somewhat proven results to submit with my application. Which is due Friday.”

Anton’s eyes go wide, like I just smacked him across the face and insulted his mother. This isn’t news to him. Or, at least it shouldn’t be. We’ve talked about me wanting this job numerous times. About him writing the letter of recommendation. That’s his part of the deal. He promised.

“That’s this week?” He swallows hard. “Already?”

I nod. How could he have forgotten?

“Yes. Willa’s wedding is next week!”

“Right. I knew that.”

Given both the look on his face and the sound of his voice, I’m not so sure he did. Which doesn’t leave me feeling very confident.

“Don’t forget the letter,” I say, my voice lowered so that only he can hear.

Not that it would really matter. The only other person in here is Cary, who I highly doubt is listening to our conversation anyway. Even if he is, he probably already knows about the arrangement. Anton and Cary have been best friends since they were little kids and tell each other everything. I have to assume that includes the fact that our fling has strings attached to it. Hell, that’s probably why we did the double date thing—Cary helping us out to try and sell the public image.

“I won’t. Promise.”

Anton squeezes my knee again and I relax, trusting him. If he says he will, he will. He’s been nothing short of amazing in every other aspect, so I have no reason to believe he won’t deliver on this too. Truthfully, it not being on the top of his to-do list is also understandable, since he has been in the middle of dealing with the worst peach season in more than seventy years.

Turning back to my computer, I scroll the results again. “I hate to say this, but I think I need to take more samples.”

“Then take more samples. Pick a different grove, whatever.” Anton shrugs. “You have free rein to do what you need to. We agreed to that when you came here. Do what you need to in order to figure all this out and help Hayes and other farms along the way.”

His phone beeps and he pushes away, launching himself backward toward the device on his desk. I laugh, watching him sail across the room, the wheels on the tiles much less annoying this time around.

“Shit, payroll and budget meeting,” he curses. “I think I’d rather pull my fingernails out.”

“Just tell them you’re giving me a raise,” Cary comments.

“After our lack of peaches this summer, I’m gonna be lucky if Gus lets us keep our jobs.”

What?!

I look up, turning to him, my heart stopping. He’s kidding, right?

Anton rushes over to me, dipping down and stealing a kiss. “I mean it—free rein, Sawyer. You need more samples, go take them. Do whatever you need to do. I’ll see you tonight at Magnolia Manor for dinner with Auggie and Miss Belle.”

The lab door slams behind him, the splintering sound of silence taking over. Swiveling in my chair, I turn to look at Cary, who is reading something on his phone.

“He was joking about y’all being lucky if Gus lets you keep your jobs, right?” I ask, trying to keep the worry out of my voice. It’s a weird thing to be so concerned about, especially since I’m not saying here, but for some reason I’m oddly invested in making sure that one bad peach season isn’t going to be the end of the road for these guys. I’ve become very attached to them.

“Absolutely,” Cary answers without looking up. “Gus will bitch and moan about the numbers from this season, but there’s nothing to be done about it. Mother Nature gave us the finger and that’s that. We kept our costs down as much as we could while still putting out as much product as we could. Welcome to life with crop farms—good years are good, but bad years, they hit you hard. And you have to count on having more of the good ones to help get you through the bad ones.”

“Makes sense.”

“I know you’ve heard us say it before, but it’s not companies like Hayes that need to worry. It’s the little guys. As much as Anton worries about the families we support as a company, he cares about the other farmers in the area too. We’re all a team.”

“I know you are,” I say, my heart feeling the weight of it.

That was something I learned early on working for the department of agriculture. The farming community is not one of competition, but cooperation. Sure, there are pockets of people in every group that don’t get on, but for the most part, these folks band together and do what they need to in order to help each other out. That was part of what made staying with this job and wanting to grow in it so easy. Wanting to be able to help.

“If I could only make this work,” I continue. “It won’t be an overnight answer, but long term, it has the potential to really be a solution. I think. Everything was so promising last week, and now…”