“Nice to finally speak with you. I’m Claudia, the one responsible for the flood of emails about your contract and paperwork.”
I chuckle. “Nice to speak with you, too.”
“Now that everything is finalized and signed,” she continues, “I’m calling to share where you’ll be living and working for the next two years.”
I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Sounds great.”
“So…” she starts, and I hear some papers shuffling. “You’re from Crapaud?”
“Basically, yes. Just outside of Crapaud, in a tiny village called Linton, on the coast.”
Claudia chuckles. “Really?”
My brow furrows. Is that really so weird? “Yes…”
“That’s where the farm is.”
I still, and my eyes lock on a building in the distance. “Which farm?”
“Gallant Potato Farm.”
Oh my god.
Scott’s farm.
Silas’sfarm.
“You know it?” Claudia asks.
“Yeah…” I close my eyes and suppress a sigh. “I… grew up across the street.”
“Oh wow! What a small world!”
“Yeah, so, I…” I trail off, rubbing a hand over my face.
Fuck. How do I even begin to explain this? Andwhatam I even explaining? That it will be awkward as fuck because my ex-best friend’s family owns the farm, and he works on it? It’s standard not to disclose client details until contracts are signed, especially when the client is high-value and information is sensitive. And conflicts of interest can arise in cases like this...but this isn’t a conflict of interest. This is just a conflict, on a personal level, that they won’t care about. And they shouldn’t.
“There’s some history there,” I say slowly, still not sure what to do.
“Oh?”
I wince at the slight tone shift that carries an edge of caution. And I can picture her sitting up straighter, fingers hovering over her keyboard, waiting to hear if this is about to turn into a problem.
But it can’t. And it won’t. They offered me a generous contract, made it clear this position needed to start immediately, and I agreed. My things are already shipped, my condo’s empty, and I’m ready to go. I can’t back out now, and I’m not going to. The farm needs someone right away, and they had been looking for a while with no success before I applied. So it would be a dick move to break a contract over this.
There are hundreds of farms on PEI… what are the fucking chances?
“Yeah,” I add lightness to my voice and slap on a smile so fake I’m glad she can’t see it. “So it should be fun.”
Although I can take a wild guess and say it probably won’t be.
“That’s so great. A true coming-home story for you,” Claudia says brightly. “So, as we discussed, it’s a two-year contract with the potential to extend based on need. You’ll be on-site at the farm full time. Do you already have accommodations in the area, or would you like us to help with that?”
I tip my head back and stare at the ceiling. “I have family nearby. I’m all set, thank you.”
“Perfect.” I hear her typing again, as she hums lightly for a moment. “Alright, I’ve just sent over your welcome package, which includes onboarding documents, your role outline, and contact details for the client. Scott Gallant, the farm owner, will be your point of contact. We’ll follow up with him today to passalong your information, so you can expect to hear from him soon to get everything started on their end.”
I let my gaze drift back out the window. “I know him well.”
