Page 5 of Dirty Billionaire

“Why do they even want accreditation if they don’t understand they need to be audited?” Jenny asks.

I need her to take the lead on this.

I’m clearly not the person to ask. The farmers are.

Please go and do your jobs, people.

“Exactly.” I nod, tired. “Tucker went all the way out there today, only to be turned away. Please find out who originally spoke to them and make sure that our onboarding process is tighter.”

As in, there should’ve been no discussion because the expectations were made clear in the first place.

“Recommend you get payment first,” Tucker helpfully says. “I can’tnotcharge you. As much as I’d like to.”

All our auditors are contractors. Which means the longer he stands here, the more hours he’s going to put on our invoice.

I get it.

But I need to make sure this never happens again.

“Thanks, Tucker. We’ll call you when we have another audit to be booked. Jenny, can youpleasecall the farm and sort this out?”

Part of me wants to tell CluckaDale to take a flying leap, but we do this to help the animals.

They have both layer hens and poultry chickens on their farm, and while I know their animal welfare is pretty good, there are changes that will need to be done to meet our standards—high welfare standards.

It’s likely why they don’t want to be audited.

The cost of farming is hurting everyone.

But this is about quality of life for the animals and something I am very passionate about.

Once they meet the standards, which are basically a list of things like making sure the animals have enough water, food,shelter, and other things pertinent to that species, they can put our charity’s blue heart logo on their packaging.

Then consumers can see it when they buy their eggs, chicken, meat, and other produce in the supermarket. Our marketing efforts educate them on what it means. That the logo indicates our auditors have been on the farm and approved them.

The animals lived a happy life.

No audit. No logo.

CluckaDale knows this, and it sounds like they’re just trying to skirt the process.

No way.

“See you next time, Penelope,” Tucker says, wandering off.

I lean back in my chair.

“He’s right. We should bill them first. I’ll find out who booked it,” Jenny says, rubbing her fingers along her chin. “The website is very clear.”

“Tighten the process,” I say, then push away from the desk and unplug my laptop from all the cords.

I’m not going to be able to focus today.

Tonight, I’m attending a networking event and Ward Montgomery is going to be there. The man I spent a scorching night with a few months ago.

He’s so emotionally unavailable I should’ve lost interest by now. Yet, every time I hear his name or speak to him, my body lights up like a Christmas tree.

The things he did to me...my god.

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