Sticky Sweet Vermont
By Marie Ahls
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About this ebook
An opportunity to save their family farm and homemade maple syrup business presents itself to the Cutter family at just the right time. Large and faster-producing companies are about to put them out of business when opportunity knocks. Television star Roman Mars is on location in Vermont, shooting a movie that he hopes will be his breakout role. Spending time with the old Cutter family, Roman learns some valuable lessons about life and love. Dahlia, the eldest Cutter daughter, is not a fan of having movie crews and actors tromping on her family's land. The unexpected shakes up her world and threatens to take down her spirit. Dahlia is forced to examine what it means to live in the moment and lead her family into the future. Will lessons learned bring this unlikely pair together or throw them into an even sticker situation?
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Sticky Sweet Vermont - Marie Ahls
Sticky Sweet Vermont
A Statesmen Novella
Marie Ahls
Chapter One
The caravan of trailers and trucks came tumbling down the driveway, filling up the empty hay field as I stood on the back of the pick-up truck, unloading the chopped wood that had just been picked up from the marsh. I wasn’t a fan of snotty actors and film crews tromping around our property, but when a gift this big comes along that could save our maple syrup business and our farm, we took it. Or at least that’s what I kept telling myself as more trailers, trucks, and even a limo drove down the dirt road, leaving a fog of dust behind them, already showing their lack of respect for the land.
Dahlia. You better get your butt done there and greet our new guests,
Grandpa yelled from somewhere in the barn. I rolled my eyes at his annoying habit. He’s always aware of what was going on around the farm whether he’s there to personally witness it or not.
You invited them. You should go!
I yelled back.
I could hear him chuckling. Dearie, if you’re going to own this farm someday, you need to take it all, including the dirty work.
Fine.
I stomped my way up the hill to the field. Normally I would have taken the ranger, but it was in the lower part of the barn where grandpa was working.
Why does it smell so fucking bad here?
came from a man exiting the limo. It was all I could do not to retort, You’re in the countryside, asshole.
I weaved my way through the RVs and the equipment that was already starting to be set up until I was standing in the center of the mess. With my hand on my hip and my temper about to flare, shouting to the right caught my attention, and I spotted a young man giving orders for where things should be placed. Excuse me? Can you direct me to who is in charge here?
I asked, trying to reign in my annoyance.
That would be me, miss. What can I do for you?
He responded politely, but his eyes darted every which way, monitoring all the activity around us.
"I’m Dahlia. The property owner. I wanted to introduce myself, see if you needed anything and to let you know that if something comes up, you should seek me out."
Ah, yes. Nice to meet you Ms. Cutter. I’m Cameron. Manager.
He introduced himself, and my eyebrow went up in a question, but before I could get my question out, he added Second in command.
He explained with a wink, "and the person you need to seek out if you have any concerns." He emphasized the you in his statement, like his boss didn't have time for little ole landowners.
I see. I certainly will...
My words were interrupted by a loud bellow.
Cameron! When you said we were going on location, I didn’t realize we were going to be in butt fucking back asswards nowhere. And what is that smell? It’s everywhere?
The man from the limo pushed his way between Cameron and me. He curled his nose as the wind carried a whiff of manure our way. The neighboring farm had a dozen cattle and were preparing to fertilize the fields for the upcoming planting season. This rude man stood there looking me up and down with distaste. He clearly held some clout since Cameron referred to him as sir, and he was dressed like he walked out of some fashion magazine—with his dark wavy hair looking like it had more product in it than I used in a year, his stubble neatly trimmed, gray slacks, bright teal three button shirt, and perfectly polished shoes—rather than onto a farm, but it was his striking intense dark eyes that caught my attention.
Cameron rolled his eyes before plastering a smile across his face. Sir. This is Ms. Cutter. She owns this place.
His tone said be respectful.
Lucky her,
he said with disgust, looking directly at me.
Anger bubbled just below the surface, and it took every ounce of strength not to smack the smug look from his face.
Now, Roman. Play nice.
Cameron scolded him like he was talking to a child. My curiosity peaked at the mention of his name. Roman. It was certainly unique.
Fine,
he huffed. "It’s nice to meet you Ms. Cutter. I’m Roman. The lead actor. I’m sure you’ve heard of me before.
Actually, I haven’t,
I stated bluntly and turned in my boots, marching back down the driveway toward the house.
Chapter Two
Grandpa!
I called out as I approached the barn where I had left him.
Here!
He called back, his head popping out of the barn doors.
We need to talk about that.
I nodded my head in the direction of the production crew that felt like they were taking over. This isn’t going to work. You need to tell them to leave.
I complained while grandpa stood patiently waiting for me to finish.
Dally,
he began, and I softened at his use of his childhood nickname. You know how important this is to save the farm. We won’t even make it through this upcoming season without the income from this film.
I didn’t need reminding that this was our only viable option. Our maple syrup business had nothing on the big-time production other businesses put out. The line of credit from the bank had run short, and now we faced losing everything. This farm had been passed down for generations, and when it was turned over to me, I would be the fourth generation of Cutters to inherit it. Without a stroke of good luck, there would be nothing for grandpa to pass down, and we’d have to vacate by the end of the year. Nine months was all we had.
A turn in fate or plain luck, who knew, was when grandpa received a call asking if we’d be willing to rent a portion of our land for an upcoming