Page 22 of Sunny Skies Ahead
I almost dropped my spoon onto the table.
“I’m so sorry,” I sputtered. “I shouldn’t have—sorry.”
Way to go, Imogen. Bringing up his dead dad at the first meal.
“It’s okay,” Kam said with a shrug. “It was several years ago.”
I knew better than to ask what happened, despite my natural curiosity. When Kam was ready to give me that information, he would. I took a bite of the roast and let out a pleased hum. Kameron choked on his next bite.
“This is really freaking good,” I said, quickly scarfing down another spoonful. “Your mom knew what she was doing.”
Kameron smiled, despite still trying to catch his breath after swallowing his bite wrong.
“She certainly knew her way around the kitchen,” Kam said.
We settled into a comfortable silence and ate the rest of our meal. When we were both finished, I grabbed my notebook and a pen and returned to my seat at the table.
“Let’s talk about job stuff,” I said. Kameron nodded and sat back in his chair.
“Now that the wedding is over, I need to focus all of my attention on securing additional grant funding. Connor’sinvestment will sustain us for the next year at least—hopefully longer. But ensuring the long-term success of Winding Road means securing additional funding so we can keep up with our expenses and also build up our savings.”
I nodded, jotting that point down.
“With daily operations, what are your biggest pain points? Tell me all the crap you don’t want to deal with so you can focus on grant proposals.”
“Email,” was Kameron’s immediate response. “I hate that thing.”
I tried to hide my smile as I wrote it down.
“Also, social media. I’m not gifted in that department. I feel bad, because our page really took off after we posted some snapshots of the Founder’s Festival, but I don’t want to keep up with it.”
“Duly noted,” I said. “You’re in luck, because I love both of those things.”
“I don’t know about your email skills, but if the way you handle your homestead’s social media is any indication, I’d say we’re in good hands.”
Again, that weird, butterfly-esque feeling sparked to life in my stomach.
“Here’s what I’m thinking,” I said. “You hand over the reins to the Winding Road emails, both for the farm and the nonprofit. I’ll take both of those things over full-time so you don’t have to worry about them. If something comes up that needs your decision or input, I’ll text or call you. Email is a great task because I can handle it even when I’m in Watford.”
I paused, feeling a rush of excitement as the wheels started turning in my head in earnest. “For social media, I want to focus on short form video content. I’d like to spend at least a day or two here every week so that I can create content here. This place is like a gold mine for content ideas. You guys have a really good following, but we can do more to keep them engaged. You never know what opportunities might come your way, with a robust social media presence.”
I stopped myself, smiling awkwardly. Kameron was staring again, the fork in his hand long forgotten as he looked at me from across the dining table.
“If that’s too much, then—”
“You’re amazing,” Kam said, and it felt like the chair had been taken out from under me. I would never understand this man’s ability to disarm me with only a few words.
“It’s what I’m here for,” I said, shrugging.
But Kam didn’t look away. Heneverlooked away.
“What?” I murmured, looking back down at my plate and stabbing a carrot with my fork. I didn’t like being scrutinized. I had always been the wallflower type.
“I want to kiss your brain.”
I let out a choked laugh, fumbling for my glass, gulping down some water in an effort to clear my throat.
“I’m surprised you get that reference,” I said, still laughing.
