I feel my brows arch, and I lean in. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”
“We know that IAS and IES are your family’s businesses,” Maggie says. “We know this is a long shot, but we have to try. Sofia said it was worth at least discussing.”
Did she? That’s…interesting.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I say to be polite, but also because I am actually curious here. These ladies don’t know me. They definitely didn’t before today. But they brought me here intending to offer me a job?
Maggie leans in, obviously excited that I’m at least willing to hear them out.
“We’re not the first, or the only female-owned farm, of course, but only about thirteen percent of farms in the U.S. are exclusively female-owned. About forty percent of new farmers are women, but female primary operators are, on average, older than their male peers. The average age is a little over sixty! We’d love to get more young women into agriculture and show them that owning and operating their own businesses in ag is possible.”
I’m listening intently now. “I love that. So you definitely want to push the women-owned business aspect.”
“For sure. And we want to partner with other women in the restaurants and food creation businesses we work with.”
“I don’t really know anything about the restaurant business. Though…” I have a feeling that if I tell them what I was about to say, they’ll be excited. I go ahead. “My mom owns a bakery. I’ve grown up inside a women-owned food business.”
I was right. Maggie and Krista’s eyes light up.
“Oh, you reallyareperfect,” Krista says.
“So you know about partnering with suppliers and things like that?”
“Some,” I say with a nod. “And I’d love to talk with her more about it.”
I realize that’s absolutely true. It would be really fun to talk business with my mom. I’ve always been aware of certain things—her long hours, how much care she puts into everything she creates, and how she balances pricing with her costs while keeping it affordable for customers. But we haven’t talked about suppliers and how she chooses her ingredients. She uses fruits and vegetables grown in my dad’s farms now, but I’m guessing, knowing them, she had input into how he did things so those foods would work for her.
“Well, we need an amazing marketer,” Maggie says. “Someone who can go to the jam and sauce company, and the restaurants, and pitch us. Help them see why we’re the perfect partners. Everything from the variety of super fresh food, to whoweare. We’ve finally grown to the size where we can afford to bring someone on. You seem perfect. You’ve been successfully pushing a family-owned business. You believe in and understand agriculture at a level that is important. And you seem to have a passion for small business and entrepreneurship.”
I lean in, resting my forearms on the table. I can’t help it. I’m intrigued.
“Go on,” I say.
Two hours later,I am in my hotel room, dialing the number for the last person I expected to be talking to today, or really at any point.
“Hello?”
“Sofia, it’s Ginny Riley.”
“Oh, hi, Ginny. I thought I might be hearing from you.”
I kick my shoes off and sit on the bed, folding my legs into a crisscross position. “Then I assume that means you’re ready to tell me why you’re trying to get me to leave IES.”
There’s a beat of silence, then she says, “Ginny, you have to know that’s not my intention.”
“But if I take this job with your friend, I would leave IES.”
“Yes.” I hear her take a breath, then she says, “When we were in New York, Margot shared the whole situation with me. The reason the Albrights were upset. That you and Everett are together. All of that. I hope that’s okay.”
“I assumed you’d find out since you were called in on an emergency basis.”
“And trust me, I understand how hard it is to work with family sometimes. Or just people you’re close to. I know you love working for IES. And you’re incredible at it. But what Maggie and Krista are doing is so impressive, and they have big plans, so I guess when they were talking about marketing, the chance to connect amazing women who are really incredible at their jobs seemed like a no-brainer.”
“You did an amazing job in New York for IES,” I say, not fully sure what I’m feeling.
There is an excited fluttering in my stomach, which doesn’t make sense. I’m a little suspicious of Sofia, I have to admit. But that is not the predominant feeling here. I’m flattered because I actually believe that she thinks I would be good for this job.
And I would be.
