Page 24 of Sugar Coated Lies
I smile and nod, hiding my guilt. I’m not here for a family reunion or to be at the farm. I’m here to avoid a potential problem and see that it doesn’t turn into one.
“Where are you golfing?”
Dad strolls to the window and glances out to the pecan orchards beyond the parking lot. “Augusta.”
Nerves slam into me. “Augusta?”
“Roman invited us to golfat his course for a few days.”
Fuck.
Roman is Benedict’s dad. He keeps Benedict close, and he’ll likely be with my family, golfing and having dinners at the country club. If Benedict learns that we have a new employee named Everleigh, shit will hit the fan. That can’t happen.
My heartbeat echoes in my ears and sweat glistens above my lip. I wipe it off before Dad notices, not that he’s looking at me.
“What about the board meeting next week?”
He sips more bourbon and waves a hand down. “I’m sure you can handle it. You’re doing everything as it is. I feel useless, hence the day drinking and golf trip. I should just turn the business over to you already and start my official retirement.”
“I just graduated, Dad.” It was barely three months ago. Sure, I’ve been interning for the farm since my junior year, but still… “You can’t be serious.”
He pats my shoulder and looks me in the eye. “Son, you were born to do this. I know we don’t always see eye-to-eye on things, but your improvements are what this place needs. I couldn’t be prouder of you.”
I force a smile as tension forms in knots the size of footballs in my shoulders. I didn’t strive to be great at this, but as with most things I do, it seems I am. I always thought a person could only be great at something if they had great passion for it first. On a scale from one to ten, my passion level for the farm peaks at six.
He glances out the window again. “I met the new employee.”
Ice slithers down my back. “What?” He didn’t say what I think he said.
“I stopped off at the kitchen for some donuts and met a beautiful young lady who seems to have hit it off with Millie. I hear we have you to thank for this new gem.”
And, like that, I’m in a raging river, waist deep, the current threatening to drag me under. If Dad knows about Everleigh, then Roman will, too. They talk about everything, but mostly business, and Benedict will find out what I did. Hell, he might even show up here enraged and wanting answers. Worst-case scenario, he’ll take his anger out on Everleigh. I can’t have that.
“You look stressed,” Dad says with concern.
“I have a lot on my mind. I’ll take care of it.” Although I don’t see how.
“You always do.” Dad pats my shoulder again. “That’s why I trust you the most.”
Trust can be a heavy burden, especially when you’re responsible for the lives of other people. Until Everleigh, I’ve been able to handle the status quo. I may not know if Iwantthe responsibility of taking over the farm or if I can see myself doing it long-term and being happy, but I can manage. Now I have Everleigh to worry about and a possible imminent danger because my guilt got the better of me. One minute I’m up on my game, and the next, I’m in a shitstorm.
Dad studies me and says, “Don’t worry. I won’t force you to move back here. So far, you’ve proved you can do the job from Atlanta. The fact that you’re here now shows your dedication and gives me hope.”
“Hope?”
“Maybe city life will wear on you, and you’ll choose to spend your future here. I still own that property out by the big lake on Hickory Road. You can redo the old Victorian house out there or tear it down and build a bachelor pad on the lot. That’s all I’m saying.”
I can’t stop my head from shaking. “I don’t see that happening, Dad. Sorry. I wish I could, but my heart isn’t in this location.” Already, I’m itching to return to the city, where I can walk to the places I love and be in the heart of the action, away from this boring, simple life.
I don’t even know if my future is in farming, but I believe in family legacy and carrying on what my father built for his sons.
It’s not all bad, either. Working here allows me to care for everyone and make sure they’re treated well, including Easton. If only I could influence him to want more for himself other than donuts, coffee, and whatever pretty girl he encounters.
If I can get him motivated and back into college, he could have a great future here—one he’d love. I’ve no doubt he could run this farm as well as I do. Maybe better. He loves farming and rural life. He loves the farm, period. Dad has always put everything on me, never pushing Easton to be more. Maybe if he had an incentive, a future seat on the board once he graduates college, he’d work to reach that goal. Then I could be free to explore other options for my future, knowing the family legacy is secure.
I can’t concern myself with Easton’s future, though, when I have bigger problems.
“Are you set on going to Augusta next week? No chance you’ll change your mind and make the board meeting?”
