Kelsey’s friends—and Kelsey.
“There you are,” Ali says with a smile when she spots me. She rises to her feet and I go to her, kissing her cheek before I settle in beside her, Camden sitting before us.
I grimace at my brother once the hostess leaves us alone. “Sorry I’m late.”
“Traffic?” Ali asks.
“As usual.” I flip open the menu.
“Stayed a little too long at the office?” Cam asks knowingly.
I send him a quick look. “Always.”
They both laugh. Our server appears quickly, taking my drink order. Cam orders a few appetizers as well, and once our server’s gone, he leans across the table, his gaze intense. “I have a proposition for both of you.”
Nothing like getting right to it. Though beating around the bush has never been my brother’s style.
Ali and I glance at each other before I warily ask, “What is it?”
“Why aren’t Mason and Max here?” Ali asks.
“They already know about my proposition, and they’re fully on board.” He leans back in his seat and rubs his hands together eagerly, a little smile curling his lips. “I’m sure your immediate answer is going to be no, but hear me out first, okay?”
“No,” I tell him, making him laugh.
“The reason I didn’t go to Mom and Dad’s this weekend is because I was in San Francisco, making an offer on a business. The owners flew in from Vermont, which is where they live now, so we could discuss everything. They had some valid concerns, and I shared my plans with them, which they approved of. They took my offer. The property is mine. Ours, if you want in on it.” Cam leans back in his chair with a pleased grin.
“You’re being too vague,” I tell him. “And what exactly did you purchase? A fleet of food trucks?”
“Even better. I bought…” He chuckles and shakes his head. “A farm.”
“Wait a minute, a farm?” Ali’s frowning. “Why in the world would you do that?”
I’m quiet, my mind searching, thinking of old businesses in the area. It hits me fast. Pretty sure I know exactly which farm he’s talking about. “The old Carmel Valley Farm?”
Cam nods, pleased. “That’s the one. You’re now looking at the new owner. Well, Mason and Max are a part of this too. This is why I’m meeting with you two tonight. I wanted to see if you’d like to be owners as well.”
“I don’t have any money. Not investor-sized money,” Ali says. “I don’t even have a college degree.”
Much to our parents’ disgust and disappointment. They were upset when Ali dropped out of college last spring, before the semester was even over. She claimed she needed the break. From what I’ve heard, she spends most of her days holed up in the guesthouse, watching Netflix or constantly on her phone.
“You don’t need one to work at the farm, little lady.” Cam smiles. “You’ve got all the experience I need—you can be the farm’s social media manager.”
Ali’s eyes sparkle with interest and she sits up straighter. “That sounds interesting. Tell me more.”
“It’ll be the usual. Posting on various social media accounts, specifically Instagram and Facebook.”
“TikTok is where it’s at currently,” Ali says with a nod as she grabs her phone and starts scrolling. “I’ll start searching farm life now.”
“I knew you’d be good at it,” Cam says, making Ali smile. Poor girl hasn’t felt good about much since she returned home. “And we could work up a contract where you buy into the business in increments. I want us all to be part owners. It’ll be our family farm. Carrying on our legacy.”
“The thing is, though…we’re not farmers,” I remind my brother.
“We grew up on a ranch,” Cam points out.
“Yeah, but it’s not an actual real, working one. Dad isn’t Kevin Costner playing John Dutton in Yellowstone.” I do love that TV show, though.
“Which is too fucking bad. The Dutton family is badass,” Cam says with a laugh.
The Carmel Valley Farm has been around since I can remember. When we were little, it was a place families took their children to year-round. You could pick fresh vegetables. There was an apple orchard where they’d give you a bucket, and off you’d go. In the fall they offered hayrides and a pumpkin patch. I remember they even sold Christmas trees at one point, though the Sullivan Family Tree Farm eventually ended that.
In my early teens, business seemed to fall off, and fewer and fewer people took their families there. After I graduated high school, the recession hit and took the farm