Page 3 of The Back Forty
Isla: I love you so much. Please take care of yourself. Catalina told me what happened. I can’t lose you. Come visit North Carolina. You can stay with me as long as you'd like and we canfind you a job here. Whitewood Creek is a small town, but it’d be the perfect place for your restart!
My chest tightens. I know what I have to do now for my health.
“And your job?” Dr. Orion asks, breaking into my thoughts. “It’s a source of stress for you, right?”
I blow out a long breath, the weight of it all pressing down. “Yes,” I admit quietly. And my relationship and the way that the two have become completely intertwined.
I’ll quit. I'll break-up with my boyfriend. I’ll do something completely different. For the first time, it hits me just how serious this is, how much I’ve let my job, my ambition, and my desperation to achieveand please people consume me. How reckless I’ve been with this one life I’ve been given.
I’ll figure it out, even if that means moving to the middle of nowhere in North Carolina to live with Isla while I do.
Chapter 2 – Lawson
Three weeks later…
“Come on. Give her a shot,” my little sister Regan hisses as I storm out of the family distillery, my boots striking the gravel with sharp, deliberate force.
This—this—is exactly why I do things on my own. It’s also why I’ve been the one and only person handling sales, growth and marketing for our family's slew of businesses since we started expanding into new avenues outside of the egg farm. Because the second someone else sticks their hands in it?Shit like this happens.
I turn, leveling her with a glare, but she stands firm, arms crossed, expression patient.
“She has absolutely no experience in egg or liquor sales,” I snap, scrubbing a rough hand over my jaw. I never take a harsh tonewith my little sister, but I also don't like being blindsided by decisions that directly affect me. “Do you know how long it takes to build the relationships that I’ve cultivated across the country? To earn trust with buyers? I don’t have time to hold some newbie’s hand while she plays catch-up on the Marshall family.”
Regan exhales, the kind of deep, measured breath that tells me she’s bracing herself. I know I’m being harsh. Probably unfair. It’s not normal for me. I know I should be taking it easier on her, but I can’t help how frustrated I feel that she made this decision without consulting me first.
I'm the patient, calm, level-headed brother mostly because everyone just trusts me to handle shit without any help and I always get it done. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m pissedabout this.
She takes a step toward me, cautious but steady, like she’s approaching a spooked animal. “Lawson,” she says gently, placing a hand on my forearm. “This is for yourgood. This isn't to punish you. It's to help you.”
I shake her off, but she doesn’t waver.
“No one’s saying you can’tkeep handling things on your own,” she continues. “You’re doing an amazingjob with the sales and marketing for our family businesses.”
“I know,” I bite out.
She smiles like she expected that. “But even so, we allfeel like this is the right move.” She tilts her head, eyes scanning my face. “You can’t keep running yourself into the ground. The brewery and restaurant in Whitewood Creek have been open for a bit now, Charlotte’s location is thriving, Colt’s expanding the spirits line, and Cash has tripled production at the egg farm. Now that wedding season is picking up for me, it’s too much for you to manage sales on all this alone.You’re stretched thin, andwhether you want to admit it or not, you’re hardly ever home. I miss you.Wemiss having you around.”
I clench my jaw, exhaling hard through my nose. Because she’s not entirely wrong.
I make it back for the important things like my son Beckham’s football games, his school events, to be by Regan's side after her car accident, but the rest of the time I’m on the road. I spend more time in hotel rooms and rental cars than I do in my own damn house that I built. One city after the next, pitching our products to grocery stores and distributors, setting up deals, doing press interviews about our sustainable egg farm and being the face of the Marshall family conglomerate to the world outside of Whitewood Creek, North Carolina.
And our farm? It’s the heart of everything.
We built our brand on ethically produced, pasture-raised eggs. Organic-fed, non-GMO, grain-free, no-kill. We don’t cull our hens when they stop laying like most farms do. We retire them, let them live out their days in their own section of the property, sunbathing and scratching in the dirt like they’re supposed to. That core value, theintegritybehind it all, is what pushed us to expand.
Next came the distillery. Then the craft beer line. The flagship brewery and restaurant in Charlotte. And now, our newest venture, bringing that same concept back home to Whitewood Creek and offering weddings at the Mayberry manor and Marshall farm managed by Regan.
All of it needs sales and marketing. And all that falls on me, the Vice President of Sales and Marketing.
And I lovemy job. The grind, the hustle, the long nights, the adrenaline of landing a deal after months of leg work. Putting together pitches, taping commercials, doing interviews,watching our business grow. Knowing that I had a direct hand in making it successful is what keeps me going.
But while I was in the Pacific Northwest last week, doing an interview withGood Evening PNW!about our newest craft brew that we’re rolling out for the summer, my family apparently made the executive decision to hire me a sales and marketing partner.
Without telling me.
And now that I’m back? I find out their new hire has already moved to our small town and starts tomorrow.
I rake a hand through my too long hair, my pulse hammering with frustration. “I don’t even know what the hell she’s supposed to do. I don’t have time to train someone.”
