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They settled for much less than that, but needless to say, I was severely reprimanded. Not fired, thank god, but I am skating on very thin ice. Which is why this trip to Australia is so important. Everything I do from now on is. I have a lot to make up for, and I can't afford any more mistakes or slipups.
And this Grayson case is the most complicated case I've ever come across in my career.
When most people think of farming, they conjure up images of a simple life living off the land, raising animals, pretty farmhouses, and homemade meals.
They usually don't think of business loans, equipment finance, livestock leasing, ownership and trusts structures, variable asset pools, insurance, foreign exchange rates, government grant eligibility, and so on.
But the reality, in this day and age, is that running a farm is running a business.
And when farmers run into financial difficulties, whether they're caused by factors outside of their control such as weather conditions, trade tariffs, or challenging global economic conditions, or through their own budgetary mismanagement, that's where I come in.
To help.
Where possible, I work with farmers on options that can assist them in clawing themselves out of the hole they're in.
But sometimes, unfortunately, when all other avenues have been exhausted, the only option left is to sell.
That's why Wilby reacted the way he did when he found out what I did for a living the other night. So many farmers think that's all we do. Rip people from their land. But the fact is, CGB is an ethical company offering innovative financial solutions at a time when people need it most. When they're not too stubborn, pigheaded, or just downright proud to accept it.
It's hard work, but I love it. I thrive in an environment where I'm challenged. Where I have to think outside the box. Where I leave nothing on the table and nothing to chance because people's livelihoods are at stake, and I have to do everything in my power to get them through the storm and out the other side.
I take a deep breath, and dive into this two-hundred-and-thirty-two-page Grayson case for the umpteenth time, starting at the very beginning and not stopping until I reach the end.
And then tomorrow, first thing in the morning—after breakfast—I'll drive out to meet them and start the process.
And once I wrap this case up, then I'll get to see Wilby again.
14
Wilby
"How are you feeling today, my love?"
"Hey, Gran." I kiss the top of her head and gladly accept the cuppa she's holding out for me. "Still feel like shit, to be honest."
"That's perfectly understandable."
I plonk myself down at the kitchen table, take a sip of the warm coffee, and try to straighten out my thoughts long enough to articulate them.
If I thought the news I got in Sydney the time I met Col was bad, yesterday was a hundred times worse. It's no longer a case ofifwe'll lose everything, butwhen.
We have one last chance not to go under, but the lawyers made it perfectly clear they're not holding out much hope. Their advice? "We recommend you start preparing for the inevitable, Mr. Linfox, and make suitable arrangements for you and your family."
Such fucking cold, heartless words that basically say, 'Fuck you, fuck your mother, and fuck the five generations before you who dedicated their lives to the land, your time's up. Now pick up ya shit and get out.'
And go where?
And do what?
Yeah. Corporate suits who live in a big city where everything can be delivered to them with a few taps on their phone don't get how life works out here for people like us.
My head falls into my hands. My whole life is falling apart, and there's not one fucking thing I can do about it.
The kids are already at school, but I don’t want them walking in and seeing me like this. Well, Kolby already saw me when he pushed me out of bed. But when I got in yesterday afternoon andGran saw the mood I was in, she stayed the night here rather than driving to her cottage.
"What are we going to do? I mean, I can always work full-time at the clinic and bring in money that way. Emma's got the mechanics, but Kat…whenever the fuck she gets back. What's she going to do? How's she going to be able to look after the kids if her sole source of income is ripped away?"
Before Gran can say anything, I continue, "And where are we going to live? This isn't just our family home, this is our life. What are we supposed to do? Rent some shitty little house in Scuttlebutt with a minuscule backyard…and what, that's it? That's our new life?"
