“I don’t know if they’re going to, it’s just something Derek suggested.”
“Why does this always happen?”
“Why does what always happen?”
“Why am I always the last one to know anything, Cole?”
“I’m not even one-hundred percent sure there is anything to know. It just makes sense, when you think about it. That’s why Kelly mentioned not renewing the lease and why they are so insistent on winning this contest. It all points to them intending to put the place on the market.”
With her lips pursed together, Sophie exhaled slowly through her nose. “Did you have anything else for Caroline? Or just the programs?”
Cole took that as his sign. Uncrossing his legs, he pushed off the floor to stand. “That’s it.”
“I’ll make sure she gets them.” She glanced toward the door. Cole took the hint.
“I’ll see myself out.”
He hated the tension between them, their interactions strained tight as a rubber band.
Cole had his hand on the door handle.
“Cole, wait.”
He whipped around.
“Thank you for bringing these over,” Sophie said. “That was a nice thing to do.”
“I’m here for you, Sophie. Anything you need. I’m serious.”
She just nodded as he slipped out the door.
15
Sophie
“OF COURSE THERE would be a typo.”
“It’s not that noticeable,” Derek tried to reassure his fiancé. He rubbed his hand in slow circles on her back, but Caroline shrugged away from his touch.
“Not noticeable? Derek, it says chocolate mouse instead of mousse! That’s a pretty big mistake!”
“It’s actually a really, really small mistake. It’s only missing one letter.”
“It’s terrible! People are going to think we’re serving chocolate dipped rodents for dessert! We have to fix this.” Caroline’s hand flew to her face to cover her eyes. “I knew something like this would happen. I just knew it.”
“I agree with Derek; I don’t think anyone will even notice.” Sophie tried to console her roommate, but there wasn’t any point. Caroline was in tears over the misprint. Sophie had known her friend long enough to know she just needed to cry it out and get it out of her system.
“I’ll call the copier and see if we can have them reprinted. I’m sure they’ll be able to do it in time. It’s only Monday.”
“It cost us almost four hundred dollars to print them the first time, Derek! With the table linen issue, we’re already eight hundred over budget. We can’t afford to waste more money.”
“Then let’s just try to forget about it. As long as we don’t point it out, no one will notice, sweetie. I’m sure of it.”
Caroline pressed her hands to the countertop and puffed out her chest with a deep breath. “I need to get some air.”
“Let’s go for a walk then,” Derek suggested, still trying his hardest.
“A walk would be good, but I think I should take it on my own.”
Sophie could read the dejection on her brother’s face. Still, he let Caroline have her space. “I’ll be right here when you get back. Today and forever.”
Caroline left a kiss on his cheek. “I know you will.”
Once she was out the door, Derek turned to his sister. “I guess now isn’t the best time to tell her Scott’s not coming.”
“He’s not?” Sophie couldn’t believe it. “Did he tell you that?”
“Gosh, no. You think he’d actually contact me to give me the news? No, I heard from Mom this morning. Said something about Aimee having her first cold and how they can’t leave her with a sitter since she’s sick, but I know that’s not the real reason.” Derek leaned against the kitchen counter and folded his arms. “I don’t know why I thought he’d show. I get that we don’t talk, but this is a big day.”
It wasn’t surprising news, but Sophie still felt bad that her brothers hadn’t been able to work things out over the years. Their stubbornness earned them nothing but repeated heartache and disappointment.
“I hate to be the devil’s advocate here, but you didn’t make it to his wedding, either, Derek.”
“I was on assignment then. You know that.”
“For the Central Valley Garlic Festival. It wasn’t like you were overseas or covering the presidential inauguration or anything.”
“The festival is a big deal. People get really passionate about their garlic goods, Sophie. There was an all out brawl at the garlic paste tent last year.”
Sophie shook her head.
“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” Derek asked.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to do that out loud,” she quipped. “Listen, all I’m saying is that there are quite a few double standards here and I think if there’s to be any sort of reconciliation, someone has to give. Maybe you should be the bigger person in this situation.”
“Not sure I’m comfortable taking this advice from the woman who currently isn’t speaking to the man she’s fallen madly in love with. Hate to break it to you, sis, but pigheadedness seems to run in our family.”
“I am speaking to him,” Sophie blurted. “And I’m not madly in love with him!”
“Caroline has said otherwise. She’s told me everything.”
“What? I told her not to!”
“Seriously?” Derek’s chin pulled back. “Did you think I wouldn’t figure it out? I get that you were trying to keep things secret so the McAllisters didn’t get disqualified, but honestly, even if you and Cole were mortal enemies, it wouldn’t change the fact that your farm is part of their property. I was hoping you all would work something out, sis, but you’ve put me in an impossible position.”
“Cole has put us in an impossible position.”
“How is this his fault? You knew my station was sponsoring this year. You do realize this looks bad all around, right? Even if the McAllisters aren’t eliminated from the competition because we’re siblings, there’s no way the station would ever let them win. The whole thing would look rigged.”
Sophie sighed. “I just wish they would’ve told me their plans to enter before I planted my entire crop. I would’ve done something different.”
“Like what? Rented land elsewhere?”
Sophie lifted her shoulders. “Or bought something. That’s always been my ultimate goal.”
“And what makes you think you can’t do that now?”
“What good would it do for me to buy land now, Derek? There’s no way I can pay rent to the McAllisters’ and pay a mortgage on an entirely separate piece of property that will just sit vacant until next season.”
“I’m not talking about a separate piece of property. I’m talking about the McAllister property.”
Sophie gaped. “You think I should try to buy the flower farm?”
“I don’t think it would hurt to ask. Seems like a magical solution, if you ask me. You can keep your flowers. The McAllisters can still enter the contest. And you’d be free to fall in love with Cole, nothing standing in your way.”
“I’m not falling in love with Cole.”
“You’re right. I suppose that’s already done.”
* * *
SOPHIE THOUGHT ON her brother’s suggestion all evening, weighing the pros and cons. She even made a list and the column of reasons to buy far outweighed the column with reasons not to. But there was one hefty reason that tipped the scales: money.
She didn’t have any.
Sure, she had some savings that she’d tucked away over the years, depositing bits of cash here and there when she had a little extra to spare, but when it came down to it, being a flower farmer sometimes meant living paycheck to paycheck. Or wedding to wedding and market to market in her case. Flower farming certainly wasn’t a get rich quick venture.
But Derek was right. Buying the McAllister property would solve each and every problem. It would be magical, but what Sophie knew of life so far, magic only
existed in fairytales.
Maybe, just maybe, that magic could exist in Fairvale.
* * *
SOPHIE WAS UP early the next morning. After swinging by Heirloom Coffee for a decaf lavender latte, she drove out to the farm. The sun peeked out over the low hills, streams of radiant light filling her truck with a warm, welcoming embrace from Mother Nature. The crystal cross that hung from Sophie’s rearview mirror caught the light and prisms of color bounced all over the cab. Admittedly, she’d gone to bed in a sour mood, but the beautiful start to her morning couldn’t be ignored.
Even a day of weeding wasn’t undesirable since the weather was so perfect. In fact, it was just what she needed: to dig deep into the soil and to pull out the pesky problems by the roots. There was a satisfaction that came with clearing the garden of things that would otherwise inhibit growth. It was a necessary process and Sophie didn’t mind it one bit.
She took her time driving to the farm, and when she arrived and angled her truck up along the curb next to the McAllister’s gate, she didn’t allow herself to become frazzled by Cole’s rental car parked just a few feet away. She hadn’t been mad at him, really, just frustrated by the situation. Cole was a hard person to stay mad at. Each time Sophie had resolved to be angry, she would think about their easy banter, the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t looking, how he held her in his protective arms. And those dimples. Those dimples were her kryptonite.
She couldn’t trick herself into believing that she hadn’t formed deep and real feelings for Cole. Of course she had. And she had a hunch those feelings were reciprocated. But their timing had been so off. Had they met at any other time, things would’ve been fine. When it came down to it, that seemed to be the case for just about every relationship in Sophie’s past. Maybe she was meant to be alone.
Killing the engine to her truck, she flung the door open and startled when it knocked into a man standing at the side of the vehicle.
“I’m so sorry!” Sophie blurted.
“It’s my fault,” the man replied. He wore runner’s shorts and a t-shirt that had sweat marks pooling around the collar and chest. “I hadn’t realized anyone was in the truck.”
Sophie didn’t say anything.
“I’m sorry,” he said, picking up on her unease. “I was just admiring it. Is it a ’54?”
“Close. ’53.”
The man ran his hand along the hood. “My grandpa had one of these. I remember riding around with him when I was a kid. He always took me down to the ice cream shop in it, so I called it his ice cream truck.”
“If only it played music like an actual ice cream truck,” Sophie said, smiling. “That would be something.”
“I don’t know. There’s not much you could do to improve a classic like this. You’ve done a fantastic job…” He paused.
“Sophie.” She extended her hand for a shake.
“Nice to meet you, Sophie,” he said, taking her hand into his. “I’m Brian.” He didn’t take his eyes off of the truck. “Sorry to keep you. I was just going for my morning run and when I rounded the corner and saw your truck, I just had to stop to take a look. It’s a real beauty. Anyway, enjoy your day.”
“Same to you.”
Revving up, the man pumped his arms and jogged away.
Over the years, Sophie had been stopped on multiple occasions by people who wanted a closer look at her truck. There was something about the vehicle that summoned a deep nostalgia. She loved that she could share that with others. In fact, back when she’d had more time, she even attended classic car shows, but in recent years she just couldn’t fit those into her busy schedule.
Grabbing her weeding tools from the truck bed, Sophie slung the tote over her shoulder and walked up to the gate to punch in her code. The gate beeped twice, then swung wide open to allow her through.
Cole’s crew was hard at work, men dispersed throughout the yard with shovels, clippers, and trash bags as they put the finishing touches on the landscape. In truth, Sophie couldn’t believe how quickly it had all come together. That was the true marker of talent: that Cole could bring his ideas into reality so effortlessly. And despite her unsavory feelings toward Tanner, he had been the perfect lead for the project. There were many times when Sophie could hear him instructing his team. He sure didn’t speak the language of love, but he was a born leader with a fire in his belly for greatness and it showed.
“Morning Sophie,” Tanner said as Sophie made her way through the yard toward her flowers. He scooped a shovel full of sand from a bucket and sprinkled it over the brick pavers while another man took a broom and swept it into the cracks.
“Good morning, Tanner. Looking good out here.”
“I’m looking good or the landscaping is looking good?”
“The landscaping, Tanner. The landscaping.”
He shrugged. “A guy can dream.”
Sophie just shook her head. Tanner needed little encouragement and Sophie didn’t wish to offer him even the smallest bit.
She glanced ahead. Her flowers looked picturesque just beyond the picket fencing. They’d grown tall over the last month, some reaching all the way to her shoulders. Opening the low gate, she stepped into her garden. Though the intent had always been to make Sophie’s flower farm feel like a part of the overall property, she could see how it could easily be parceled off. After all, there was now fencing on all four sides, sectioning her two acres apart from the rest of the land. And there was a little dirt road that ran from the street back to her area, making her portion accessible without even setting foot in the McAllister backyard. She rarely took it, mostly due to the pieces of gravel that inevitably kicked up under her tires. Sure, it was a truck, but it was a classic after all, and the paint job wasn’t cheap.
Maybe this could actually become hers one day. That hope didn’t seem so far off when she really assessed it.
Either way, it wasn’t something she could solve right then, so she reached into her tote to gather a pair of gloves. She slipped them onto her hands and got to work. The soil was cold and damp. Crouching down, Sophie crawled her way up and down the rows, leaving neat piles of weeds at the ends of each to collect when she finished.
Her zinnias were thriving. They were bright and bold, with fiery oranges and hot pinks. She had deadheaded early in the season and loved that each time she cut a flower from the plant, it made room for more to grow. The process fascinated her, how taking something away often made things stronger and healthier.
Maybe life was supposed to be the same.
The thought of Cole going back to Nashville wasn’t a welcome one. But Sophie just didn’t see any other ending. Every time she played things out between them, the end result was always the same: they would go back to their separate lives, like nothing had ever happened.
Several hours passed before Sophie became aware of the ache in her shoulders and stinging tingle of her legs beginning to fall asleep. Stretching upward, she stood tall. When her eyes met Cole’s, she nearly screamed.
“I’m so sorry!” he blurted. A single row of zinnias separated them. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Soph.”
“How long have you been there?”
“Not very. Tanner said you got here a couple of hours ago, but I’ve been inside with Kelly going over the final bill.” He adjusted his glasses. “It did take me a while to find you among all of these flowers, though. Seriously, Soph. There are thousands.”
“Something around there.”
“You can’t just pull them all out. That would be a monumental waste.”
“I’m not going to pull them out.”
Cole smiled, those two dimples settling into his cheeks. Sophie forced herself not to look at them. “That’s good news. I thought you probably said that in haste.”
“If you hadn’t realized already, I tend to say a lot of things in haste.”
“No, you’re kidding,” he said so sarcastically Sophie could physically feel the words.
“I know. Sh
ocker, right?”
He chuckled. “Are you planning to harvest for tonight’s market?”
“As soon as I get the weeding done. That’s my goal.”
“Let me help you.”
“That seems to be your standard request lately. Asking if you can help me. With the programs. Now the flowers.”
“If you haven’t noticed, I like being around you, Soph. If I can use helping as an excuse, then I’m going to use it.”
Sophie could feel her cheeks warm. Cole was direct and she appreciated that, but she didn’t want to encourage something that could never come to fruition. Even still, she did need the help. Turning him down didn’t feel like the smartest option.
“I could use the help.”
“Then put me to work. Do I just start cutting? Hacking here and there willy-nilly?”
“No!” she shouted. “I mean, no. There’s a specific way each variety needs to be harvested. We’ll start with the zinnias. Grab a pair of shears over in that garden tote?”
Cole walked down the row to Sophie’s flower printed tote and pulled out a pair of clippers. He opened and closed them a few times in his grip before meeting her back in the middle of the row.
“Okay, so see this flower?” She took hold of the stem on one of her State Fair zinnias. “It looks like it’s ready to harvest, right?”
“Yeah.”
Waggling the stem back and forth, the flower head flopped around like it was attached to a wet noodle. “But see how wobbly it is? That means it’s not quite ready, even though it looks like it is. You want to harvest the flowers that stand stick straight when you wiggle their stems.” She took hold of another flower on the same plant. “Like this one.” When she shook the stem, the neck didn’t move. “Now you try it.”
Cole took a stem and shook it. The zinnia swayed back and forth with bendy movements. “Looks good to me.” He opened the clippers, ready to snip.
“No!” Sophie grabbed ahold of his hand in panic. “That one’s not ready.” Then, taking his other free hand, she placed it on a stem and wrapped her hand over his. She moved it back and forth with deliberate motions so he could really get a feel for it. “See how this one is more rigid and doesn’t bend at the neck like the other one? That’s what we’re looking for.”
In the Market for Love Page 13