Page 56 of Trick or Tease

They needed an accountant, a housekeeper, and maybe a priest to pray for a miracle.

I had managed to sort through the income and expenses but was horrified when I realized pumpkin operation was still operating under the family name. Like they were just a couple of casual sellers and not an actual business.

I’d been hunched over my laptop for three hours, drafting incorporation documents and researching liability insurance requirements for agritourism operations in New York State.

The more I dug into it, the more worried I became. It was a fucking catastrophe waiting to happen.

Billy appeared in the doorway with a sandwich and a beer, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world. “How’s it going, nerd?”

“It’s going terribly,” I said, not looking up from my screen. “Do you realize you’ve been operating the pumpkin chunking event for almost thirty years without a single liability waiver? No separate business entity, no additional insurance coverage, nothing.”

He shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich. “No one’s ever gotten hurt. Safety first.”

“That’s not the point!” I snapped, finally turning to face him. “Billy, one person gets hit by a flying pumpkin, one kid trips and breaks an ankle in your corn maze, and they can sue you for everything. The farm, the house, Mom and Dad’s retirement savings. That sweet RV. All of it would be gone. You are the business. The business is you. That’s stupid. And dangerous!”

“Okay, okay, calm down.” He held up his hands defensively. “That’s why I need your help, right? You understand all this legal stuff.”

I ran my hands through my hair. “Have you even looked into what permits you need for this expanded operation? Food service licenses, parking regulations, emergency access requirements?”

“I figured someone would tell us if we needed any of that.” He held up his crossed fingers. “So far, so good.”

“Shit, Billy.” I took another sip of the terrible scotch. “Now that you’re going big, you can’t just wing it anymore. You’re talking about hundreds of people coming through here every weekend. This isn’t a few neighbors stopping by to launch pumpkins. You guys said you’re trying to attract people from out of town. The people that are going to be buying tickets aren’t going to be your neighbors. They’re strangers. People you don’t know from Adam. People are litigious. Why do you think there are so many rich lawyers!”

Instead of getting defensive like I expected, Billy pulled up the other chair and sat down across from me. “Look, I know I’m in over my head with this stuff. That’s exactly why I was hoping you’d stick around and help me figure it out.”

“I can’t stay indefinitely to hold your hand through basic business practices.”

“I’m not asking you to hold my hand. I’m asking you to teach me. Walk me through what I need to know before you leave again.” His voice was calm. “You’re my brother, Garrett. And you’re the only person I know who understands this corporate bullshit.”

I stared at him, caught off guard by his admission. I’d been prepared for an argument, for him to tell me I was being paranoid or controlling. Instead, he was acknowledging that he needed help.

“The first thing we need to do is set up a separate LLC for the Halloween attraction,” I said finally. “That way, if something goes wrong, they can only go after the business assets, not the farm itself. Not you. Or me apparently since I’m on the paperwork.”

“Okay. How do we do that?”

I pulled up the New York State filing website. “We file articles of organization, get an EIN from the IRS, open a separate bank account. It’s not complicated, but it has to be done right. And soon. Like two weeks ago.”

Billy leaned forward, actually paying attention as I walked him through the process. “What about insurance?”

“I’ve got quotes from three different carriers. It’s pricey, but, Billy, that’s not optional. One lawsuit could cost you everything.”

He whistled low. “If you say we need it, we need it.”

“It’ll be a lot less than losing the farm,” I said dryly.

For the next hour, I walked him through boring but crucial legal hoops he needed to jump through. Billy asked good questions and took notes, which was an encouraging sign. When we were kids, he’d never had the patience for details like this.

“Man, I feel like there’s a lot more I need to learn before you leave,” he said.

“Yeah, there is,” I muttered. “But we’ll get it all sorted out.”

“When are you heading back exactly?” Billy asked, leaning back in his chair. “Obviously, I want you to stay forever. But I’m just curious. When do you have to be back?”

I stared at my laptop screen. The question I’d been avoiding thinking about too hard.

“That’s the thing,” I said slowly. “I don’t actually have a hard deadline to go back.”

Billy raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”