Sweet
"I'm glad you're back," my dad, Chris, greeted. His eyes lit up when he saw me walking towards him into our farm's storage room, putting rotten potatoes in a sack.
"Hi, Dad. Want some?" I offered him my macchiato, but he declined.
My dad was frugal. He never bought coffee from a café, believing it was a waste of money. For him, coffee was coffee. It was all the same in every sense of the word.
"How was your interview with Sebastian Stavrakos?"
"A disaster," I sighed, the corner of my lips twisting. "He stood me up. Not just once but three times."
"What an arrogant bastard." My dad's forehead furrowed, and his eyes narrowed. "He wasted your time and effort. Did he know that it was a five-hour drive to Dansville?"
I rolled my eyes. "I doubt he even knows geography."
"Next time, make sure you research the person well first so you don't waste a journey."
"I paid for two nights of lodging, and the food cost twice as much there." I exhaled heavily, thinking of the wasted money. "It wouldn't have mattered with the advance the publisher promised with Sebastian on board."
"What are you going to do now?"
"I haven't figured out my next move yet." I shrugged my shoulders. "I'll know once I call my publisher."
Actually, I was afraid to know how my publisher would take the news that I couldn't include Sebastian Stavrakos' interview in my first book. I wondered how I could break the news gently. I knew they'd be disappointed or, worse, hesitant to move forward with the book deal.
"I'm sure they'll understand once you explain to them what happened," Dad said with encouragement.
"I really hope so," I answered, my heart heavy.
I'd never felt this much pressure in my career. I would have been on the precipice of something great if Sebastian Stavrakos had only been kind enough to show up to one of our scheduled meetings.
"Enough about me. Mom told me you have some good news?"
"Yeah." He nodded. "Sam Andrews came here yesterday. He offered a partnership with us."
"Really?" My eyes grew big, surprised at the wonderful news. Dad smiled happily. "Oh, Dad, that's a dream come true for our potato farm. Finally, they trust us."
We hugged each other as I shared in his happiness.
Sam Andrews was the owner of Andrews Food Manufacturing Company, the biggest potato processing company in the world. They bought potatoes from different farms, including ours.
"Now that we've added more machinery and replaced our old, obsolete stuff, we can supply more potatoes to them. Planting, growing, and harvesting has been easier and faster."
"That's amazing, Dad. After all the hard work you've done, it all paid off."
"Nope. If it weren't for your hard work, we wouldn't have been able to afford to add more machinery," he answered, his eyes becoming watery.
Six months ago, my dad was so against my blogging. I still remembered our conversation clearly.
"You're just wasting your time doing blogs, Sweet." His forehead furrowed. "It won't get you anywhere. If you go to the city and work for a media company, then your talent in writing would be useful. You'll earn big bucks."
"I love working on my blog, Dad. It makes me happy and productive. I find it more fulfilling and important than money."
"But we need money to keep us going." His expression suddenly looked tired. "We have too many expenses pouring in every day. It's hard to keep up. The farm needs excellent machines. What we have is obsolete. The house needs repairs, and the twins... they're going to college."
I was the only person that Dad talked to about his concerns in the family. He never told Mom because it would only worry her, and that would make her hysterical from sleepless nights.
I understood Dad, who carried all the weight on his shoulders. Being the head of the family and the only one earning a living was too much for him now that we were growing and the expenses kept coming in.
Dad did not go to college, just like Mom. All his life, he worked on the potato farm that he inherited from his parents. The reason it was important for our parents to get us all into college was that they had never experienced it, and they wanted us to have decent jobs.
"I'm putting 110% on it, Dad. I'm very passionate about what I'm doing, and I know success will eventually follow."
"When?" His lips twisted, and my heart sank.
"Just be patient, please. You promised to give me two years to focus on my dream, and it's only been a year," I reminded him again. "I swear, if nothing works, I'll do what you want me to do. I'll apply to a media company right away."
"Okay." He nodded, still frowning. Oh God, I wished he would trust me.
Now that I had found success in blogging and paved my own little way, Dad was so happy that I could help him with our daily expenses. I had the plumbing and electricity in our house fixed, and my next project was to do a larger renovation and patch the leaks in the roof.
If the book deal fell through, however, I wondered if that would all be a pipe dream.
***
After helping Dad sort potatoes, I found my siblings Erin and Colton in the kitchen. They were non-identical twins, both eighteen years old and five years my junior. They'd just graduated high school and were enjoying the break before going to university.
"Hey, Sweet. Can I have a sip?" Colton gestured to the macchiato the moment I entered the kitchen door. He'd obviously just woken up, judging from his messy hair and swollen eyes. He must have been out partying last night with his high school friends.
"You can have it." I gave the macchiato to him, and he took it, then got busy on his phone.
I sat on the kitchen counter, watching Erin make pancakes for her older twin brother—well, older by ten minutes.
"Did you just arrive?" Erin asked. When I nodded, she continued, "I'm sorry about your failed interview, but don't worry, we have some good news. I'm sure you heard about it already."
"Yeah, I did. I just talked to Dad. It's all we've ever wanted for the farm. Now, we're secured in this partnership."
"His hard work really paid off." She grinned widely. "I'm so happy that good things are happening in our family. Your blogging career, the farm, and me and Colton going to College."
"Yeah. If only I got that interview. It's the key to my multi-book deal."
"Don't lose hope. Sebastian Stavrakos is not the only billionaire in New York. I'm sure many others would gladly agree to an exclusive interview with you," Erin reassured me.
She had a point. Why hadn't I thought of that?
My weary spirit instantly lifted. Hope overwhelmed me as I thought of interviewing other billionaires in New York.
"You're right, Erin. I'll suggest it to my publisher when I talk to them later."
"Also, tell them that Stavrakos is a jerk," Colton snapped angrily. "He shouldn't have agreed to an interview if he's too busy hooking up with different girls."
"He's a player?" Erin asked as she put a plate of pancakes on the kitchen table for Colton to dig in.
"Yeah. He's hooked up with actresses, models, celebrities, politicians' daughters, billionaires' heiresses—any rich and famous women he can find," Colton enlightened us.
"Oh, really?" Erin sat across Colton at the table. "No wonder he's sensational."
"Exactly. And right now, he's front page news with the princess drama," I informed them.
"Yeah, I heard about that." Colton's lips twisted, looking unimpressed. "He's famous because of the issues he's involved in. In fact, I can't think of any billionaire here in New York that can beat him when it comes to popularity."
Realization suddenly set in.
"You're dead right. No other billionaire has the clout or the drama Sebastian does. It's the reason why my publisher wants his interview in my book."
"Oh." Erin's eyebrows rose. "So, in that case, you have no other options but to interview the man."
I took a long sigh. "But that's not possible now. After what he did, I don't want to deal with him anymore." I grimaced in distaste as I thought of the obstacle that Sebastian Stavrakos had brought into my career.
"You're a sensational blogger," Erin encouraged. "You'll be okay. You write good stuff. That's why people love reading your blog."
"And you can always go to other publishers." Colton gave an impatient shrug. "There are plenty of them who want to publish your first book."
I shook my head. "But it's every writer's dream to publish a book under Dreamers Publishing House. Now that I'm talking with them, I can't just give it up."
"You shouldn't. Just follow your heart's desire. Whatever makes you happy, we're here to support you." Erin held my arm, reassuring me. "Don't worry too much, Sweet. Things will be alright."
***
Later, I received an email from my publisher asking about my exclusive interview with Sebastian Stavrakos
I detailed the incident of Sebastian Stavrakos' obnoxious behavior, standing me up in our interview three times. He showed no interest in being interviewed, so I suggested we stop pursuing any interviews in the future.
The following day, my publisher responded. What I feared most had happened. Because I failed to do the exclusive interview with Sebastian Stavrakos, they decided to reevaluate my manuscript and let me know of their decision soon.
My heart sank.
Darn it. I'm back to square one.
My dreams felt like they were crumbling into a million pieces. The hard work and sleepless nights I invested in my first book had gone to waste.
My lips thinned in anger. This was all because of that obnoxious and arrogant billionaire, Sebastian Stavrakos! He made me believe that he wanted to be interviewed, only to make a fool of me.
He was the most selfish, disrespectful, and rude person that I'd ever met. He didn't give a damn about other people's time, effort, or feelings.
Oh, how I hated him! He should be exposed for what he did to me so he'd learn his lesson. Someone needed to tell him that what he did was wrong, or he'd keep on repeating the same behavior.
A notification popped up. Another email.
It was an invitation to be a guest on the TV show Good Morning USA. They wanted me to talk about my success in blogging.
It was like an answer to my wish.
"Of course, why not?" My eyes narrowed as anger overwhelmed me. "Watch out, Sebastian Stavrakos. I'm going to expose you to the public."