Page 39 of Horn of Plenty
The breath caught in Mabel’s throat. This was much bigger than she’d ever dreamed.
“We’d also like to work with you on our menu development,” Preston added.
“How would that work?” she asked.
Preston’s face lit up. “This is the fun part. You’d tell us the variety of fruits, vegetables, and grains you’re going to grow, and we’ll plan our menus around that.”
“You want to offer true farm to table?” she clarified.
The chefs exchanged a glance.
“Yes, and that’s actually how we found you. It was through a typo,” Preston replied.
She cocked her head to the side. “A typo?”
“I went to search the hashtag Farm to Table and ended up entering Farm to Mabel. And that’s when you popped up. I believe you were eating a piece of artisan cheese, and then we found your food swoon casserole posts. You eat a lot of cheese and casserole,” Preston teased.
She did. He wasn’t wrong.
She couldn’t help the grin that stretched across her face. She’d taken everything she’d learned from Bella Mae and had used that knowledge to build Eat Elverna. And it had worked. And in the process, the parts of Elverna that she’d rejected had become the things she’d loved most. She glanced at Cal, who, while she’d been so angry with him for so long, never ceased to be her first and only love.
“There’s more,” Logan added, tapping the sheets in the folder.
“More!” she replied. “How much more can there be?”
“We want you, Mabel,” Logan answered.
She reared back. “Me?”
What could they mean by that?
Cal’s posture grew rigid. “Mabel works for the town. She’s not for hire.”
Logan raised his hands defensively. “We understand that completely and don’t want to take you away from your work with Eat Elverna. We’d hoped to bring you on as a consultant. You could set your hours and your availability. We’re extremely flexible.”
“What would you want me to do?” she asked, her heart rate kicking up.
“Similar to what you’ve done in Elverna, we’d like you to help educate and inform our patrons about what farm to table means,” Preston explained. “You’d share information about the families in your co-op and the processes involved in sustainable farming while weaving in aspects of our various restaurants.”
“You want me to manage your social media?” she quarried. It seemed almost too good to be true.
“We could do it on a trial basis. You could stay in the city for a week or two and get to know our restaurants. We could work on menus and plan content,” Preston replied.
“To say that we’re impressed with what you did in Elverna is an understatement. We love what Eat Elverna stands for, and we’d love for you to help us communicate our business philosophy in a similar way,” Logan added.
She took a sip of her coffee but didn’t taste anything. She was too excited at the prospect of expanding Eat Elverna while getting to dip her toe back into city life. The best of both worlds could be hers. She wanted to high five the chefs, but she still needed to keep this professional.
She cleared her throat. “We’re in the process of increasing our delivery capacity to provide seasonal produce, baked goods, and grains to the suburbs around St. Louis and Chicago. Both are equidistant from Elverna. We hadn’t quite gotten to incorporating the cities into the fold yet. However, if we agree to work with you, that would have us going into the cities. It could certainly expedite our ability to offer farm share deliveries to those urban areas. I see a clear path forward for growth. What do you think, Cal?”
He glanced at his watch. “It’s time to go. We need to get on the road.”
This had to be a joke!
She wanted to be patient and understanding, but frustration heated her cheeks. How could he not see the bounty Preston and Logan were laying at their feet? Eat Elverna would be highlighted on their menus. This could garner national recognition for the town. Not to mention, this was a big opportunity for her. How could he not see it? What was clouding his mind?
Cal stood and pulled out her chair for her.
“Will you consider doing some consulting work for us, Mabel?” Logan asked, seeming to sense Cal’s displeasure.
