The Billionaire's Sweet Trouble

03

Sweet

"I'm glad you're back," my dad, Chris, greeted. His eyes lit up when he saw me walking towards him into our farm's storage room, putting rotten potatoes in a sack.

"Hi, Dad. Want some?" I offered him my macchiato, but he declined.

My dad was frugal. He never bought coffee from a café, believing it was a waste of money. For him, coffee was coffee. It was all the same in every sense of the word.

"How was your interview with Sebastian Stavrakos?"

"A disaster," I sighed, the corner of my lips twisting. "He stood me up. Not just once but three times."

"What an arrogant bastard." My dad's forehead furrowed, and his eyes narrowed. "He wasted your time and effort. Did he know that it was a five-hour drive to Dansville?"

I rolled my eyes. "I doubt he even knows geography."

"Next time, make sure you research the person well first so you don't waste a journey."

"I paid for two nights of lodging, and the food cost twice as much there." I exhaled heavily, thinking of the wasted money. "It wouldn't have mattered with the advance the publisher promised with Sebastian on board."

"What are you going to do now?"

"I haven't figured out my next move yet." I shrugged my shoulders. "I'll know once I call my publisher."

Actually, I was afraid to know how my publisher would take the news that I couldn't include Sebastian Stavrakos' interview in my first book. I wondered how I could break the news gently. I knew they'd be disappointed or, worse, hesitant to move forward with the book deal.

"I'm sure they'll understand once you explain to them what happened," Dad said with encouragement.

"I really hope so," I answered, my heart heavy.

I'd never felt this much pressure in my career. I would have been on the precipice of something great if Sebastian Stavrakos had only been kind enough to show up to one of our scheduled meetings.

"Enough about me. Mom told me you have some good news?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "Sam Andrews came here yesterday. He offered a partnership with us."

"Really?" My eyes grew big, surprised at the wonderful news. Dad smiled happily. "Oh, Dad, that's a dream come true for our potato farm. Finally, they trust us."

We hugged each other as I shared in his happiness.

Sam Andrews was the owner of Andrews Food Manufacturing Company, the biggest potato processing company in the world. They bought potatoes from different farms, including ours.

"Now that we've added more machinery and replaced our old, obsolete stuff, we can supply more potatoes to them. Planting, growing, and harvesting has been easier and faster."

"That's amazing, Dad. After all the hard work you've done, it all paid off."

"Nope. If it weren't for your hard work, we wouldn't have been able to afford to add more machinery," he answered, his eyes becoming watery.

Six months ago, my dad was so against my blogging. I still remembered our conversation clearly.

"You're just wasting your time doing blogs, Sweet." His forehead furrowed. "It won't get you anywhere. If you go to the city and work for a media company, then your talent in writing would be useful. You'll earn big bucks."

"I love working on my blog, Dad. It makes me happy and productive. I find it more fulfilling and important than money."

"But we need money to keep us going." His expression suddenly looked tired. "We have too many expenses pouring in every day. It's hard to keep up. The farm needs excellent machines. What we have is obsolete. The house needs repairs, and the twins... they're going to college."