Page 74 of The Orchard at Rosevale
‘Hi, Larry. What can I do for you?’
‘How about supply me with quality avocados I can distribute around the country?’
Cruz gaped. A contract with the Ludwigs would be worth millions. His father had tried courting them several times to little avail, and now he had Larry reaching out?
‘Absolutely,’ Cruz said. ‘If you email me your requirements and delivery dates, I can put together a quote.’
‘Done.’
Stunned by this fortuitous call, he said, ‘Can I ask why you want Kinstead Avocados to become a new supplier?’
‘You can thank my wife for that.’ Larry chuckled. ‘She saw that video of you online and thought that any grower brave enough to do that for his business deserves a chance. I’ll email you through our requirements now. Chat soon.’
Larry hung up, leaving Cruz staring at his phone in bewilderment. Had that just happened? El’s ridiculous video had cost him one client but had landed him a much bigger one?
The email icon on his phone pinged and he tapped on it, relieved to see Larry had been true to his word. When he saw how many tonnes of avocados Larry needed, Cruz almost fell off his chair.
Then he spied another email and his shock intensified. Green Thumbz, a nationwide market franchise, also wanted him to supply avocados all around Australia. They would absorb the freight costs and suggested a six-month contract to begin with, which would net the farm more than they’d earned in the last two years, according to the figures he’d gone over. Lois, the CFO who’d emailed, mentioned they’d discovered Kinstead Avocados from the viral video, and reiterated what Larry had said: a ballsy move like that deserved a chance.
Stunned, Cruz laid his phone on his desk and rubbed his temples. He’d been so caught up in losing George as a client that he’d ignored what El had said about the video potentially bringing in new clients. Turns out, that’s exactly what had happened, which meant he owed her an apology.
Though he had a feeling nothing less than grovelling would do.
CHAPTER
40
Elora rarely drank more than a glass of wine, so sinking two stubbies and being halfway through her third meant she’d officially edged into tipsy.
‘You’re pissed,’ Thommo said, laughing as she slid off the bench a little. ‘Definitely a cheap date.’
‘This isn’t a date.’
‘Because I’m not Cruz.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Some bastards have all the luck.’
‘It’s got nothing to do with Cruz.’ She tipped back her beer and took another sip. ‘He’s mean and grumpy and a big poo-poo head.’
Thommo sniggered, his eyes widening as he looked over her shoulder. ‘Poo-poo head, huh?’
‘The biggest poo-poo head.’ She flung her arms wide, sloshing the remainder of her beer onto Thommo’s chest. ‘Oops. Sorry.’ She patted at his shirt ineffectually, getting the giggles when he squirmed. ‘You’re ticklish.’
‘Very.’
He joined in her laughter, and she tickled him harder.
‘Well, well, well. Isn’t this cosy?’
As Elora froze, Thommo leaned over to whisper in her ear, ‘Sprung. The big meanie looks really angry, but that’s probably because he’s jealous.’
‘What are you whispering about, bozo?’ Cruz entered the rotunda, filling the space.
‘You, dickhead.’ Thommo stood and winked at Elora. ‘You’re right. He’s definitely a poo-poo head.’ With a jaunty wave, he strolled away, leaving her alone with a glowering, narrow-eyed Cruz.
‘Having fun?’
She tilted her nose in the air. ‘I was until you showed up.’
‘You shouldn’t drink so much if you can’t hold your alcohol.’
