A tap on the truck window startled me from my distracted thoughts. I had forgotten where I was and what I was doing.
“You all right in there?” Moe asked, his sun-browned face filling my view.
I gave him a thumbs-up and heaved the creaky door open. Moe caught a whiff from inside and took a step back.
“Damn, son,” he said. “I shovel pig shit all day and evenIthink that’s rank.”
I chuckled and nodded. “Every time I think I’m getting used to it, it sneaks up on me again. I swear it keeps changing too.”
“Smells like a skunk’s unwashed stink hole.”
“You have a way with words, Moe.”
I had met him at the feed store earlier, and when I mentioned I was looking to invest in some local farms, he invited me out to see his place. I hadn’t told him my last name yet, or who I worked for. I wasn’t lying exactly. Just easing people into the truth.
One of the reasons I had driven across the country was to check out farms to buy up, but the other reason was to make connections with local farmers while I looked around. Then we could work them into the social media campaign the ad people were cooking up back at the Allory Enterprises offices.
Shelby had shot me down without hesitation. Now, I was hoping I would have better luck with Moe.
“Let me show you the pens,” he said, waving for me to follow him.
“Let’s go.” I didn’t know a good hog pen from a bad one. As CEO, I was a big picture guy. I had people to handle the details for me. They told me what properties to look at, and I did it.
But I wasn’t looking to buy this place. Moe’s pigs weren’t on our radar. This was purely for the PR push I knew was coming soon enough. So I would let the man give me the tour, showing off his operations like a proud father showing off his child. Then, with any luck, he would agree to tell the world I wasn’t a monster.
Moe had a few hundred pigs spread out through multiple pens, and the noise was overwhelming. Not to mention the interesting smells. I forced a smile on my face, imagining my nose belonged to someone else.
It almost worked.
I hadn’t gone into business to wade through hay and pig filth, but once I set upon a task, I went full speed ahead. Today, my job was to charm the pants off a pig farmer. I would rather be charming the pants off a certain blonde chicken farmer, but Shelby’s pants remained firmly in place.
The more I thought about it, the more I blamed her for my presence here. It just convinced me to not give up with her. I needed to dig into her family’s past with mine and see what crimes I was being forced to atone for.
Taking charge of the family company meant owning up to past mistakes as well. If only Shelby would give me a chance to talk.
Moe wrapped up the tour and I brought up the idea of him helping me out with a social media campaign. He was totally onboard with the idea, right up until I mentioned my family’s company.
To Moe’s credit, he didn’t pull a gun on me, but he did let some pigs loose. They beelined right for me, as if he had trained them to be attack pigs, and they chased me all the way back to Tyler’s truck.
It wasn’t my proudest moment, and I had a long, quiet drive back to the B&B to chew on my failures. They were starting to stack up here in Ferris. I didn’t like it but I wouldn’t let it deter me from my mission.
After showering off the muck, I fired up my laptop and emailed the Allory board members with an update. There was no sugarcoating or spin. I was honest about the pushback I was facing.
The problem was Ferris wasn’t unexplored territory. They’d had dealings with Allory before, and my father had made a choice that rocked the town on its foundation. Because of that, I wasn’t starting at square one. I had a hole to dig myself out of before people in Ferris were even neutral toward me.
I got responses from people soon after. Paul suggested we try to move the PR campaign somewhere else. I was about to support that idea when another response shot it down. Ashley correctly pointed out we had chosen Ferris specifically because of Allory’s past mistakes there.
The viral social media post that had the board panicking had called out Allory’s work in Kentucky specifically. Allory was being called the “bad bunny bastards,” as if shutting down an old egg farm meant we had canceled Easter. Shifting to a different region of the country would negate the whole purpose of our upcoming PR drive, which meant I was sticking around for a while longer.
It also meant I needed to figure out a better way to connect with the people around here. The social media coordinator would be coming out here before I knew it. They would be looking to get footage to be used for an Easter commercial. Allory wanted to announce new production plants and initiatives for farmers to become a part of our family.
Realistically, I should take charge and put the social media thing on hold. But it felt too much like admitting defeat. Plus, leaving meant giving up with Shelby, too. I wasn’t ready to admit defeat there either.
So instead of pressing pause on things, I asked my assistant to get me all the files on the Ferris deal from a few years back. The files were all scanned and on the company server, and they got it all over to me without delay.
I grabbed myself a cup of coffee from downstairs and came back up to my room to start reading. Shelby’s family had beenfarming in Kentucky since the settlor days. The Whitakers’ roots ran deep in Ferris.
The family had grown with the times, becoming a mega egg and poultry producer known for their ethical systems and quality products, but three Easters ago, during a business downturn, they sold to Allory completely. My father, ruthless as a Russian czar, decided to shut down the farm and production plant in its entirety, resulting in mass layoffs in Ferris.
