Sophie stepped out into the room. “This isn’t a date, Care, and I don’t want to give him the wrong idea.”
“Well, you certainly do look nice—dare I say beautiful? I think it’ll be hard for you to look anything but that, Soph. Who is this guy, anyway?”
“Remember the one who came by with my bag the other day?”
“Glasses?” Caroline perked up. “I mean, Glasses is what I’ve been calling him in my head when I think about him.”
“You’ve been thinking about him?” Sophie asked.
“I haven’t been thinking about him, thinking about him.” Caroline wobbled her head back and forth. “Just, you know, I told Derek about him and how he brought your bag to the house and we’ve been calling him Glasses ever since. Just a little nickname we have for him. He seriously rocks those spectacles, Soph.”
“You talked to my brother about him? What on earth would you have to talk about? You guys don’t even know him.” Sophie couldn’t understand how a man Caroline had only met for a split second could somehow become the topic of conversation.
“Just that it was nice to see you interact with the male population again. It’s good to see you back in the game. I don’t know—there just seemed to be a little spark between you and Glasses—” Caroline cut herself short. “What’s his actual name?”
“Cole,” Sophie said through a frown. “His name is Cole. And there wasn’t any spark. And I’m not back in any game. There is no game.”
“Got it. No game.” Caroline scraped her spoon against the carton, digging for the last bit of ice cream at the bottom. “So it’s just a date, then?”
“This is not a date. It’s a working dinner. Totally professional.”
“Well, this outfit certainly looks professional.”
Sophie’s shoulders slouched. “Too professional?”
“I thought that’s what you were going for!” Caroline flung her spoon into the air in exasperation. “I can’t win!”
“I’m sorry.” Sophie offered a smile in apology. “You’re right.” She waved her hands. “I don’t know why I’m being so weird about this. I mean, Cole’s a nice guy.”
“That’s great!”
“No, it’s not. It’s much easier to dislike people who aren’t so inherently nice.”
“And why do we need to dislike him?”
“Because my pocketbook sort of depends on it. If I don’t have a flower season, I don’t have a paycheck. And why? All so someone can win some silly backyard contest?”
“It’s actually not all that silly, you know. Derek said this year’s winner gets a spread in The Fairvale Flyer and a check for fifty grand. His news station is really playing it up. Doubling their amount of coverage and everything. It’ll bring a lot of attention to Fairvale, way more than the past years’ competitions.”
That news made Sophie flushed with irritation. “Seriously? Why is everyone else so excited about this? Am I the only one who isn’t?”
“Probably. It’s pretty big for our little town. Might even drive more people to the Farmers’ Market, too. I think it’s a win-win all around.”
“A win-win, huh? Then why do I feel like such a loser?”
Jumping up from her seated position, Caroline wrapped Sophie in a bear hug, the only kind she knew how to give. “You’re not going to lose in this, Soph. Exposure is always a good thing, business-wise. For the market, for your flowers.”
“I suppose so,” Sophie relented. “I don’t know. I don’t know why I even agreed to go to dinner with him.”
“Because as you said earlier, he’s a nice guy. And it’s just business.”
“Right.” Sophie nodded. “Just business,” she said, but it felt like she was trying to convince herself more than Caroline at that point.
6
Cole
HE HAD ARRIVED a half hour early, even though GPS told him it would be less than a ten-minute drive. Even still, Cole didn’t want to chance being late. The rental car company had outfitted him with a relatively new forest green hatchback which slipped easily into the vacant parallel space directly in front of the restaurant. He decided to stay in his car rather than wait in the lobby, choosing to flip through his drawings with the hope that Sophie would like to do the same over their dinner. He was proud of the work he’d completed so far. His vision was really starting to take shape.
In all honesty, Cole wanted Sophie’s input. Yes, their goals were different for the land, but he believed they could achieve a mutually beneficial outcome. He just wasn’t sure if Sophie wanted that. It felt like she’d given up before they had even started. This wasn’t an all or nothing scenario—at least Cole didn’t believe it to be one.
Looking out through the windshield, he caught sight of a couple dining just on the other side of the restaurant’s large front window. Twinkle lights lined the frame, pulsing like a steady heartbeat. Based on the bashful looks exchanged between the two, Cole figured it was a first date. The young woman would periodically glance down at her hands, then look up through thick eyelashes at the man across the table. It was endearing and for a brief moment, Cole hoped his dinner with Sophie would have a similar tone. But she had been clear that was completely outside the realm of possibility.
When the clock on his dash flipped forward to 6:10, Cole made the decision to wait by the entrance rather than in his car. Hands shoved into his pockets, he scanned the street for Sophie’s truck, knowing he would hear it before it came fully into view, that old engine rumbling loudly down the road. As predicted, within five minutes he made out the low hum of her GMC creeping along the street. He tried to catch her eye with a wave, but she was busy scanning the road for an open space. After three loops around the block, Sophie finally slipped into a recently vacated spot directly across from the restaurant. She exited the vehicle, looked each way, and then hurried across the street, her heels clicking against the pavement like horseshoes on a cobblestone path.
Out of breath, she stepped up onto the curb.
“You know, you could’ve avoided that intense parking spot search if you just let me pick you up,” Cole teased. He bumped his shoulder into hers.
She remained rigid. “It’s fine. It’s always crowded around here. I’m used to it.”
She really wasn’t offering him anything.
“Alright. So…shall we?” He splayed out an arm, twisting at the waist toward the historic building. “I called ahead and made a reservation.”
“You didn’t need to do that.”
“Why? Because it makes it sound too much like a date?”
Sophie yanked her head back. “No, because I’m friends with the owner. He gets me right in every time.”
Cole let a breath sputter between his lips, figuring it conveyed his frustration. If it had, Sophie didn’t appear to notice as she grabbed the handle to the door and flung it wide open with determination. Cole trailed behind.
“Bella!” an older man with a manufactured Italian accent greeted. He rounded the podium and swept Sophie into an over-friendly embrace. “So lovely to see you tonight, my sweet. I was just telling the cooks that the market officially opens next week. I’ve already made a list of produce to buy. Please tell me the gentleman with the fresh herbs will be there again this year.”
“Danny?” Sophie withdrew from the hug, but still clasped hands with the affectionate owner. “Absolutely! Just got his check for his booth in the mail today.”
“You’ve done such a great job with the market, my sweet Sophie. It’s so nice to see it succeed. You were just what this town needed, but of course you know that, don’t you?”
Beaming, Sophie scrunched up her nose in a smile that showed she was uncomfortable with the compliment, but grateful for it all the same.
“Dining for one again tonight? I’ve got your usual table open if you’d like it. We have the fire going since it’s a bit chillier than normal. You’ll just love it.”
Stepping forward, Cole interjected, “Table for two, actually. I made
a reservation. It should be under Cole Blankenship.”
The man’s eyes rounded. “Oh,” he said, his tone more hushed. “I see,” he uttered like there was some sort of scandal involved in that information. He withdrew two menus from the podium drawer and waved them like a fan against his face. “Right this way.”
Sophie pursed her lips but then huffed out a short breath and followed the man.
“Will this do?” he asked after leading them to a secluded table against the back wall of the building. A tea light candle floated in a round vase placed in the center of the table. To the right, a colossal stone fireplace climbed toward the ceiling, and the heat from the roaring blaze within it could be felt from several feet away, like the radiating warmth of a campfire.
“I don’t know,” Sophie said, visibly uncomfortable with the undeniably cozy space. “Don’t you think it might be a bit hot so close to the fire?” She turned to Cole.
“Nope.” Cole grabbed the menus from the man and pulled out Sophie’s chair, which she reluctantly lowered into after a labored pause. “This will be just perfect.” He slid the chair back up to the table and rounded it to take his own seat.
Bowing, the man retreated toward the front of the restaurant, leaving Cole and Sophie alone.
“I’m starving.” Cole opened the menu excitedly. He scanned the options. “Everything on here looks amazing. What’s your usual?”
“I don’t have one.”
Cole lowered the menu several inches, searching Sophie out over its edge. “Seriously? You have your own table, but you don’t have a regular order? Why do I find that hard to believe?”
Sophie lifted her menu higher to shield Cole’s scrutinizing stare. “Not sure why you find it hard to believe.”
“Listen.” Cole let his menu drop to the table. “I get that you don’t like that we’ll be seeing so much of each other at the McAllister’s, but it seems like I’ve upset you in some way, and I’m having a hard time pinpointing exactly why that might be. Have I done something to offend you, Sophie?”
Hiding behind her shield, Sophie shook her head, only offering a terse, “Nope,” as her reply.
Several wordless minutes passed between them. The busser came by with water to fill their glasses, but Sophie didn’t glance up from her menu, not even when the ice gathered at the spout and tumbled out of the pitcher all at once, causing a cascade of water to slosh over the cup and onto the table like a break in a levee.
“I’m so sorry,” the young man said in a voice quivering from embarrassment.
“No worries, buddy,” Cole offered. He dabbed at the soaked tablecloth with his napkin. “It’s just water. No harm, no foul.”
The busser scurried away and Cole leaned back to settle into his chair. He drew his water glass to his mouth and pulled in a long sip as he took in the surroundings. The restaurant was small and generic in its kitschy Italian décor, but it did have an inviting atmosphere which made it easy to see how one could quickly become a regular. The prices were modest and so far, the service was acceptable.
“The Lover’s Special.”
Cole choked on his water. “Excuse me?”
“I get the Lover’s Special,” Sophie repeated. She refused to make eye contact as she studied her menu like there would be a test at the end of their meal. “See? That’s why I didn’t want to tell you. Not only is it a goofy name, but it’s an obscene amount of food.”
Cole couldn’t keep from chuckling, and that only produced a deep scowl on Sophie’s lips.
“I shouldn’t have told you,” she groaned.
“No, no,” Cole cut in. “It sounds amazing.” He read the menu description aloud. “Lasagna, stuffed shells, and manicotti. Count me in. We’ll share it.”
“Share?” Sophie looked horrified. “I usually eat the leftovers the next day for my lunch.”
“Well, I’m pretty hungry, so I doubt there will be any leftovers, but if you need lunch plans, I’m happy to make some with you.”
Rolling her eyes, Sophie yanked the folded napkin from the table and threw it onto her lap. “I’ll figure out my own lunch.”
Cole placed his drinking glass onto the table and studied Sophie. It was obvious she’d cleaned herself up after her day in the flower fields. Gone was the dirt that had smudged her nose; the same dirt his fingers had itched to dust off. She’d swept her long hair into a loose knot at the base of her neck and even though she needed none, Cole could tell she’d applied a bit of blush to her cheeks and shadow to her eyes. All things someone would do to prepare for a date. Still, he tried not to read into the apparent effort she’d taken to get ready for their time together.
“Can I ask you a question?” Cole inquired after the waiter came back and took their order.
“If I said no, would it stop you?”
“Probably not,” Cole admitted, and when Sophie’s lips lifted into the faintest of smiles, he felt that small victory. “When I showed up on your doorstep and met you for the first time, you seemed like an entirely different person. Definitely not the same one sitting across from me now.”
“How so?”
“Well, for starters, you were approachable,” Cole admitted, shrugging. “Honestly, now I feel like I can’t come near you with a ten-foot pole for fear that I’ll do something to completely turn you off.”
“Not a ten-foot pole. More like a ten-foot plot line.”
“So that’s what all of this is about, then?” Cole slumped back in his chair. “You’re worried about the contest’s impact on your flowers, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, Cole, I am,” she asserted. “I get that this is just another job for you, but this is my everything. These flowers are more than just my income. They’re the realization of a lifelong dream.”
“Would you be surprised to know this isn’t just another job for me? It’s the job, Sophie. I have so much riding on this. Do I want the McAllisters to be pleased with the outcome? Sure. Of course, I do. But I’m seeking someone else’s approval here, and that’s my real driving force.”
“Whose approval would that be? Your boss’s?”
“Bingo,” Cole answered. “And in this case, my boss just so happens to be my dad.”
At that moment, the busboy came by with a basket of garlic bread, and when he settled it between them on the table, both Cole and Sophie reached out for a piece at the same time. Their fingertips brushed. Eyes wide, Sophie yanked her hand back like she’d been shocked.
“Sorry.” Cole nudged his chin toward the basket. “You go ahead.”
Sophie lifted the fabric liner and reached in for a piece. She held the bread up to her mouth. “Look. I know I’ve come across like I’m angry with you, Cole. I’m just frustrated with the situation, I suppose. This wasn’t in my plans for the season. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it all. It’s a lot to take in.”
“That’s understandable. You’ve had sole access to the land for several years now and here I come and threaten to change all of that. I get it. But I think if you would just take a look at my preliminary drawings, you’d see I don’t intend to squeeze you out, Sophie. In my book, we have complementary strengths and I think we can ultimately work together to create something really beautiful.”
For the first time all night, there was a palpable shift in Sophie’s demeanor. That hardened edge softened, even if only slightly, and Cole saw it as a gift.
“Did you bring them with you?”
“My drawings?” Cole wiped his mouth with the napkin. “Yeah, I did. They’re just out in the car, but I can go grab them—”
“No.” She cut him off. “We can look at them after dinner. But I would like to see them.”
She’d stressed that this would be a professional dinner only, but that statement offered the shred of hope that it could possibly mean something more. Cole wasn’t sure why he grasped onto that hope, but it sure felt good to do so.
“You work for your dad?” she asked. “I take it you’re close with your family, then?”
“Yeah, I work for him back home in Nashville. Five years now. I’m the junior landscape architect at his firm.”
“And you have siblings?”
“A twin sister, Trista.” He didn’t mention Caleb, but he rarely talked about him, certainly not when he was just getting to know someone. “My parents are divorced and I’m not as close with them as I used to be, but that might have something to do with my dad being my boss and all. Changes the structure of a relationship, you know?”
Sophie nodded while she chewed. “I completely get that. My brothers used to be business partners, and as a result, they haven’t spoken in years. Things can go south pretty quickly when you mix family and finances.”
“What about you? Fernando back there said something about the Farmers’ Market? You’re involved in that?”
“This will be my second year running it. I bring out my flower bouquets and have a little table where I sell them, but my main job is to make sure the market runs smoothly. There’s been a huge response from the community. All positive. I think people are tired of shopping for their food in a supermarket, you know? They like to know where it comes from. No middle man. Plus, there’s nothing like purchasing fruit that was still hanging on the tree that very morning. Can’t get any fresher than that.”
“I like this.”
“What?” Panic crept into Sophie’s gaze. “What do you like?”
“Listening to you talk about your passions. You light up.”
“I get more excited than I probably should about these sorts of things. If you haven’t noticed yet,” she said, sarcasm thick in her tone, “I tend to have big swings of emotion.”
“No,” Cole said, volleying the sarcasm right back. “Haven’t noticed one bit.”
“In fairness, I am like thirty percent Italian or something along those lines, so it goes with the territory.”
“So you’re about as Italian as your good friend, Fernando?”
“Oh, Fernando? He’s one-hundred percent Armenian. That accent’s completely fake.”
In the Market for Love Page 5