Southern Player (Charleston Heat 2)

Baby steps. I did attend a gallery opening with Grace the other week. All things considered, it went really well. I got a glimpse into the art scene here in the low country, and one of the artists actually took me up on my invitation to come paint out on Wadmalaw. She gifted Gracie and I a small canvas depicting the sunset over the water off my dock.

Gracie has always fit right in here on the farm. But she also makes an effort to connect with the people and the land when she’s here. Chatting up my mamas as the four of us plant beans or pull weeds or roast the acorn squash I just harvested.

Because she’s excellent, Gracie also set up a meeting for me with Montgomery Partners, Greyson Montgomery’s venture capital firm. Turns out he’s actually a decent guy, and our meeting went really well. So well that I secured seed money for my little milling operation and for the storefront I plan to open at the old barn here on my property. Greyson’s been out here a lot lately. We’ve already hired a contractor, and I insisted we have Julia oversee the design, seeing as she did such an awesome job over at Holy City Roasters. The new space is such a hit that Gracie’s thinking of opening up a second location in the NoMo, or North Morrison Street, area.

Construction on the barn and mill is due to begin next week. Which is why Gracie and I decided to host our very first breakfast-slash-brunch-slash-beer event today. Get people inside the barn so they can see the “before”—figure it’ll make them all the more excited when they see the “after” at Rodgers’ Farms’ grand opening, which is scheduled for next summer. We’ll be hosting the brunches on the patio at Gracie’s shop in the meantime.

More than that, though, we’ve been anxious to start building a community together. Never too early to start planting those seeds. Start feeding people who need it.

The proceeds from today’s event—officially a “Grits ’n Grinds Fundraiser”—will go to a local food bank. Eventually, we’d love to be able to fund some cooking classes in public schools in the area. Maybe even fund scholarships for people wanting to go to culinary or business school.

Big scary goals, sure. But honestly? With Gracie at my side, I feel like anything and everything is possible.

I never been so genuinely excited for the future.

Starting with today.

We pull up to the barn. My mamas are there waiting for us, ready with a carload of flowers and plants to decorate with. The four of us start setting up for the brunch. Unloading the coffee, setting up the tables.

Eli and Olivia arrive not long after. Truck full of food. Trays of my grits, made with stock, gouda, and half and half. There’s shrimp, fried chicken. Fried oysters and braised collards and quarts of pimiento cheese.

Marie arrives to set up the dessert table. Everything on it made with Rodgers’ Farms produce.

I’m surprised when Lilly shows up early, too, a handsome fifty-something guy in tow.

“This is my husband, George,” she says, introducing me. “We were so excited for y’all we couldn’t stay away. How can we help?”

I smile, genuinely touched by the offer.

“How about y’all set up the beer? We got some kegs that need to be put on ice.”

George grins, giving my hand a good shake. “Mind if we give ’em a taste, too? Quality control is real important.”

“I’m all about quality. Help yourselves. Just don’t drink it all, you hear?”

Lilly waves me away, a sly little smile on her lips. “I make no guarantees when it comes to a good IPA. I love me some hops.”

Now I’m grinning, too. Look at us. A shipping CEO and a farmer, bonding over some beer.

I ain’t mad at it.

Greyson is the next to show. He’s all business as usual.

“Lookin’ good,” he says, shaking my hand as he surveys the bustle inside the barn. “You see that email from Julia this morning?”

I nod. “Gonna be mighty sexy, this new barn. Gracie and I really like her ideas.”

“Who wouldn’t? She picked the best of everything. I swear to God, that woman couldn’t stick to a budget if her goddamn life depended on it. I’m gonna have a word with her.” He tilts his head to look around me. “She here yet?”

Furrowing my brow, I reply, “Not that I know of.”

Grey’s growling isn’t anything new. He growls at a lot of people about a lot of things.

But there’s a sharpness to this particular growl that makes me take note. Almost like he’s personally offended by Julia’s tardy arrival.

“Figures,” Greyson mutters. “She’s always late.”

Lilly sashays over then, a red solo cup in each hand.

“Y’all look like you could use some refreshment. My word, Greyson, what are you fumin’ about now?”