My brows furrowed as I tried to make sense of her cryptic response.
“Don’t tell me you have forgotten already? She will be heartbroken.”
“I’m sorry?” I asked, hoping for more clarification.
“The goat from the festival the other day, her name is Blossom.”
“Oh! Yes, of course. Blossom and her delicious cheese,” I said, recollecting it all now. “So, you have goats and a farm?”
Agotia laughed at my overly simplistic summation.
"That's about it. At least for now. Like you, my grandfather started a business that has been passed down to me. I inherited it all when my father died. Unlike you, that business is rich in manure and not much else."
“What do you mean? You have a tough time making a profit?”
“Currently, I have a hard time keeping the lights on,” she admitted, her vulnerability shining in her eyes.
“You need to find a scalable product that is fast and easy to produce. That will create a stream of passive income so you can focus on the other areas of growing the business without worrying about paying the bills.”
The gears started to turn in my head as I sifted through what might be a solid solution for her. This was the part of running a business that I loved. Problem-solving stimulates my brain to work in a way that I crave.
"Okay," she said while nodding her head. "Like what?"
"The cheese you sold was a great start, but it takes a lot of work to make, package, and ship them out if you want to reach an international network. Have you tried anything like cosmetics? Lotions, skin care products, soaps, and even candles. People in the big cities will spend a lot of money if they think whatever they're buying will help them look younger, longer."
“I have looked into it before. But the capital it would take to fund the research to do cosmetics is way above the farm's current budget."
"Then start with the more straightforward stuff. Soaps and candles. Those are easy to start, and there's always a market for them. Tying a scent to a specific goat, like Blossom, is a great marketing strategy too.
She started to nod as the idea sunk in. A slow smile spread across her face as I watched her crunch the numbers in her head, calculating the costs and profits.
“You have no idea how helpful this is,” she said after a moment.
I shrugged off the compliment.
“This is what I do. I should be good at it. Now, let’s come up with a plan.”
Chapter ten
Agotia
Ilaidinbedthat night, my mind whirling and body thrumming with energy as I replayed tonight's events in my head repeatedly. By the time Alexander had walked me to my truck and tucked me into the cab, I had an entire business model planned out in my pocket. That gut feeling had been right - that walk had changed everything.
We had spent hours in his grandfather's study, thinking through each step and how I could pull this off. He asked one question after another, needing to know how many farm workers I had and how many hours a day I could afford to work on a new project like this. The only thing I had not mentioned was that I needed a massive, miraculous profit within the next two weeks, or all this work would be for nothing.
Despite the hours of conversation we had shared, I did not mention the dateline given me by the bank; that was not information I was ready to tell just anyone yet. The last thing I wanted was for him to think I was asking for his money.
While I was sure fifty thousand dollars was a drop in the bucket for someone like him, I valued our newly established friendship more than that. Although, if this plan didn't work out the way he thought it would, I might have to ask after all.
The idea of being friends with a man like that sent a flush through me. He had labeled us so quickly, and I wasn't sure if that was his way of keeping me at arm's length or pulling me in closer. There was a moment tonight when I felt so sure that he would kiss me.
"I think this could work," he had said.
At one point in the evening, we had shifted the conversation from standing in front of the bookcase of my dreams to the couch on the opposite wall. He had pulled a notebook out of a drawer in the desk and was jotting down notes as we talked.
“Do you mean that? I don’t know that I could afford false hope.”
My words had been hushed but honest. I expected him to detail all the potential pitfalls of the plan. Instead, he inched closer on the cushions until our knees touched. We faced each other, one leg tucked under the other, mirroring the other's posture completely.
