Page 10 of Sunny Skies Ahead
“Come work with me.”
The plate I’d been holding clattered into the sink. I winced at the loud clash of ceramic against steel, a shiver crawling up my spine. I swallowed tightly, steeling myself against the rising tide of memory.
If Kam noticed, he didn’t say anything.
“What?” I finally said.
“Come work with me at Winding Road,” Kam said sheepishly as he took the banged up plate from the sink andfinished rinsing it before placing it in the dishwasher. “Since the festival last year, things have really picked up. We received hundreds of applications for our most recent cohort, and even more emails and phone calls from people who want to support us. Unfortunately, I am not gifted with anything remotely administrative, and I’m scared stuff is falling through the cracks because I can’t keep up with it all. Abbie tells me you love a good spreadsheet.”
I smiled and shrugged my shoulders like it was no big deal.
“You don’t?”
Kam’s laugh could only be described asbeautiful.
“I don’t. And I won’t lie to you. My life is a mess. But I would love if you came to Winding Road and helped me get my life organized into a spreadsheet.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek.
“So, like an administrative assistant?”
Kameron shrugged. “Primarily, yes. Administrative work would be really helpful, but if you wanted to do something more creative, like helping us make social media posts, that would be really helpful too. The pictures on your homestead social media are stunning.”
I pressed my lips together to hold back a smile.
“I didn’t realize you’d been looking at my page.”
I could have sworn Kameron’s cheeks went slightly pink.
“Market research and all that.”
“Right,” I said, unable to stop the grin this time. “Market research.”
Kameron’s expression softened, and something in my stomach flipped as his gentle gaze fixed on me.
“I know what it’s like to feel adrift, trying to figure out what your next move is in life, but not sure how you’re going to get there. I know I’m biased, but Winding Road is the kind of place where people find themselves again. And obviously you wouldn’t be coming to the farm to be part of a cohort, but. . .” Kameron blew out a breath, wiping his hands off on a spare towel before crossing his arms over his chest.
“I’m rambling. The point is, we could use your help.Icould use your help. Most of my energy is going towards filling out grant applications to secure additional funding.”
My stomach twisted. The thought that Winding Road was going through financial difficulties similar to me was devastating.
“I thought Connor had invested in the farm?”
“He did,” Kameron said. “But I’m trying to think long term. Connor’s investment will sustain us for at least another year, hopefully longer. There’s so much I want to do, but I’m hesitant to do any of it because I don’t want to put the nonprofit in a tight spot.”
“So, an administrative assistant. My primary goal would be to ease the pressure off of you so you can focus on grant applications,” I said, wanting to make sure I understood. Kameron nodded, his expression lighting up in a way that had me ducking my head.
He was beautiful in a way that unnerved me.
“And you’d be my boss?” I asked, although I immediately regretted how forward and presumptuous the question was.
Kameron just shrugged again. “Technically, yes.”
He said it so nonchalantly, I almost convinced myself us working together in close proximity wouldn’t be an issue.
“But really, Imogen,” Kam said, taking a step closer to me. My breath hitched, and I fought the urge to lean in closer. This is how it had always been between us—this magnetic push and pull, a never-ending dance.
The feeling of Kameron’s steady presence at my side last fall flashed through my mind. The night of the fall festival, we’d attended a party in Abbie’s honor at the Roadhouse, Watford’s local bar. I’d been worn out by the day’s extroverting, and being surrounded by a bunch of drunk partygoers wasn’t my idea of a good time. Kameron had been there, steadying me without even really thinking about it.
