Ah, family-run businesses. They’re pretty great most of the time—though the family has no qualms with arguing.

I know I’ve always been on Charlie’s good side, and he’s been pretty pleased with what I do around here, but he doesn’t compliment me on a job well done. Not verbally. I get raises every year. I get a lot of thank-yous when I help him out. He’s not one to lavish on the praise, not that I need it.

It’s kind of weird then, that he’s complimenting me right now, but I’m going along with it like it’s no big deal.

“Thanks,” I tell him, kicking at a few stray rocks that came from the nearby pebbled parking lot. “I just want to make them happy.”

“You do a good job of it.” He falls into step beside me as we make our way back toward the farm. It’s bustling with people. Roaming through the rows of trees. Clustered around the wreath booth. Standing in line for a cup of hot chocolate or spilling out of the retail store. The farm comes alive for about thirty days every year, and so many people stream in and out of here—and the crowds grow every single year too. “Candice made a suggestion.”

“What did she suggest?” I nod at a family I spoke to earlier, and they smile and wave at me in return.

“That you become our new customer service representative,” Charlie drops ever so casually.

I come to a stop. So does he. “What are you talking about?”

“Like I just said, you’ve got a way with people, Jonesie. They gravitate toward you. Never get mad at you when you hover and ask if they need help. And you always go above and beyond when it comes to giving them excellent customer service,” he explains.

I shrug, feeling a little embarrassed, though I don’t know why. “I’m only doing the job.”

“You put your all into every task you’ve got,” he says, his voice firm. “And I appreciate that, more than you know. I’m not the best when it comes to dealing with customers.”

I can barely contain the laughter that wants to spill, but somehow I manage it.

“Go ahead,” he says with a chuckle. “Laugh. I can tell you want to.”

“No way, boss,” I tell him, shaking my head.

Charlie sends me a measured look before he continues. “Candice suggested I need someone with a softer touch. Who’s not so gruff. That’s you.”

“You think I have a softer touch?” I ask.

“Compared to me? Hell yes. Most of the time, I’m too busy to be bothered with customer bullshit.” A sigh escapes Charlie and he tugs his knit cap off his head, revealing his messy hair. “See? That statement right there is the wrong attitude. We need those customers in order for the business to continue, and I get so wrapped up in the day-to-day stuff around here, I don’t have time to deal with them. Nor do I want to deal with them.”