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“Well fuck me, that turned out way better than I’d hoped unless you’re all duds.”
Several people chuckled, but I wasn’t a fan of the guys my age that gave her looks like they hoped fucking her was actually an option. Over my dead body.
“So for those of you who don’t know and thought this was just a field trip for ice cream, there is no ice cream and I’m Adrena, owner of Adrena’s Bounty and I need to expand. This is Finn. He works here too. That’s it right now.”
“So you’re like us?” one of the guys asked, looking me over and guessing my age was about his.
I didn’t know how to answer, raising an eyebrow at Adrena as if saying I was letting her field that one.
Her lips twitched. “I’m the owner, he’s the overseer. He’s my big, bad ogre to make sure all the kids behave and the punishment if they don’t. Don’t piss off Finn.”
“Whatever you say, Adrena,” I agreed, trying not to laugh and playing like I had any more clue than they did.
“So you make awesome jam here? Is that what you do here?” someone else asked.
“I do the same thing I try to do every night, Pinky,” she answered, wiggling her eyebrows. “Try to take over the world.” I tried to cover up a snort, but the rest just looked at her like she was nuts. “Really? Not a single Animaniacs fan?
“Wow, I feel old for the first time ever, you little shits.” She blew out a harsh breath. “Okay, I didn’t think there would be so many. Let’s start with a tour and see who runs.”
And then she waved them inside as if that didn’t sound more like someone might be offered up as tribute to try and survive than a cartoon joke. She opened the bay door and I drove in the cart, hurrying to unload it on the tables at least so it was out of the heat and the sun.
A few more people buzzed the gate and I let them in while she checked what she had going. She rounded the new arrivals up and ten minutes later we were at the greenhouses.
“Take this as a sort of intro orientation to see if you really want the gig before I handle too much paperwork and we have to do tax shit,” she said to the group.
“Wait, um, I looked up something while I was eating lunch,” I interjected before she taught them something she’d have to change. I waited until she nodded. “Papaya essential oil is made the same way pomegranate is by grinding the seeds. So are passion fruit and lychee.”
She smiled brightly—nobeamedat me in a way I wanted to see a lot more.
“Well, look at you taking this so seriously. Awesome. I didn’t know that. You’ve got my phone. Call Sia and see if she wants us to start adding any of that to what we’re already keeping for her. Less to compost is always better.”
I nodded and walked away a bit to make the call, half listening to her lecture how to harvest raspberries and blackberries that were growing in this greenhouse. She supervised for a few minutes after telling people to really get started and was a patient teacher if someone messed up.
I finished up after they had loaded a collection cart with trays and went over to her. “Sia wants and said if you really love her, send her an array of your scraps and it will give her a chance to play.”
She shrugged. “Sure. It’s the least I can do for letting me learn at her setup and then copy it all. You’re awesome. Thanks.”
“Glad to help.” I was, and I hoped she knew I was serious on that.
We moved on to pineberries which were a white strawberry with red seeds from South America. I bit back a smile that I now knew that. I loved learning this kind of stuff and how cool the world was.
“It’s like a strawberry and pineapple mix,” one of the girls said after she had them try it.
“Very good,” Adrena praised. “You have a nicely refined palate as a lot of people miss the hints of pineapple. Or they think it just tastes of pineapple and miss the strawberryundertones. It’s also how ripe or early picked they are. Let’s get a few trays real quick so we can talk on the other end.”
She stopped one of the guys and went over how to pull gentler when he about yanked out the whole plant.
We moved on through a few more greenhouses, just down the main path so they got the feel of how large the operation was.
“So that was fun, or my idea of fun,” she said as we headed back to the brewhouse, walking backwards like a tour guide as I pushed the single cart. “But it’s serious, and you can get seriously hurt if you fuck around. Those lifts can really hurt you. So can clippers. Shit, you touch the hot peppers without gloves and then your eyes and we’re heading to the emergency room.
“I want that to be clear as I’m all for people having fun, and I don’t care if you rock out in the greenhouse we’re in that day or people ride back in the collection carts after we unload, but this is serious, a job, and I need people I can trust.”
When we arrived back, she started the washer and showed them how it would all go in, giving the same lecture she gave me. Then she brought the pineberries over to a prep table and brought out what was needed.
“Now, you cook blackberries and blueberries whole until they’re done. Give them a bit to dry and then into the pails that will stack on pallets in the walk-in fridge. Other fruits we’re just getting started after washing. Pineberries are easy since you chop off the tops like strawberries. You’re cooking, so you don’t need to hull and they’ll be chopped on that beast.”
She gestured over to the commercial slicer, chopper, dicer, and just about anything cutting.
