Something About You

by Bridget Anderson

  Miles had a handful of each when Kyla walked over to him. She asked him the same question she’d asked everyone else. “You can tell the difference, can’t you?” He looked comfortable getting his hands dirty, but she couldn’t say the same for Brandon and Trey, who’d barely touched their samples.

  “Sure...the dirt’s brown, and the soil’s black.” He gave her a smile that said he was pleased with himself.

  Kyla shook her head. “There’s more to it than that. The soil is an ecosystem of other organisms.” She reached over and took a handful of the soil in front of Miles and held it up. “If you build the perfect soil, your plants will grow and thrive. There’s an art to soil building.”

  Miles dropped the hand full of dirt and held the hand full of soil under hers to catch the soil as she poured it from her hand into his. He gently brushed the remaining remnants of soil from her palm with his fingers. His hands swallowed Kyla’s. She wasn’t prepared for the shiver that ran down her spine and splintered through her body.

  “So, do you think I can learn this art?” he asked.

  She quickly pulled her hands away and brushed them together. “Sure you can.” She cleared her throat and fought hard not to bite her lip, thus displaying how flustered he’d just made her. “I give a full-day workshop on soil building that you can sign up for. We cover everything from composting to manures, mulching, mushrooms and teas.” She recognized the change in pitch of her voice and the fact that she was rambling, so she shut up.

  “Tea?” Miles asked.

  “Yes, you can fertilize your garden with tea.” Why had Kyla found herself spending more time with Miles than anyone else, yet again?

  She quickly realized the rest of the group was standing around brushing soil from their gloves and waiting for her to tell them what to do next. She caught Ben’s eye and motioned for him to start collecting the gloves. “Excuse me, but it’s time to start wrapping up.”

  She stepped away from Miles and returned to the head of the class. After thanking everyone for giving her ninety minutes of their day, she passed out brochures detailing her other workshops.

  Miles stood off to the side of her, holding out his hands. “You know, I could use that place to wash my hands now.”

  “Oh, Mr. Parker, I forgot, I’m sorry. If you’ll follow me I’ll show you where you can clean up.”

  “Right behind you,” he said.

  They walked up the path toward the back of the house in a leisurely fashion, neither seeming to be in a hurry.

  “The tour and the workshop have been amazing so far,” Miles said. “I like the working farm concept. I was chatting with a few of the guests, and this is the couple in green’s second visit.”

  “We get a lot of repeat business,” Kyla replied as she glanced over at Miles, who licked his lips and smiled. She quickly focused back on the path ahead of them. “Some couples spend every anniversary here. The freshness of the food and baked goods keep them coming back for more.”

  “So, tell me, what is it you do all day when you’re not picking vegetables and building soil?”

  Kyla took a deep breath and forced her eyes to stay on the path, and not on Miles. “Well, when I’m not working on my dissertation, I help with marketing and running the farm’s office. I’ve helped arrange monthly specials, like Friday night potlucks, and the B and B celebrates just about everything. I handle most of the social media, also.”

  “Potlucks? At a B and B?” he asked with a chuckle.

  “Sure. The Coleman House is not your typical B and B. During potlucks, people bring food from neighboring farms. It’s a real community event. Everyone gets involved. It’s fun and organic.”

  Miles laughed. “That much I gathered.”

  Once they reached the barn behind the house, Kyla pointed to the inside back corner where Rollin had installed a small vanity made of repurposed material.

  Miles washed his hands. “I like this setup back here. It’s nice. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a sink in a barn before.”

  “Rollin’s wife had him put it in. I think they used to spend a lot of time out here. Before the farm expanded, there was only the house and this barn. The sink he crafted from an old metal bucket. The handle of the bucket was drilled into the wall with a hand towel hanging from it. I don’t know where the old mirror came from above the sink.”

  He dried his hands on the towel before joining her. “You sound like a busy woman. When do you find time to work on your PhD? Which is pretty impressive by itself, I might add.”

  Kyla stifled a grin. “Thank you. My studies and the program have taken over my life. When I’m not working, I’m studying. But I’m not complaining. I believe this is what I was put on this earth to do.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman who knew so much about minerals, organic matter and how soil filters water to keep it clean.”

  Kyla smiled. “You were listening?”

  “To your every word.” Miles tilted his head and smiled at Kyla.

  Damn, there’s that smile of his again! She blushed while her stomach did a series of backflips. She was used to guests being intrigued by her work, but this level of interest from a celebrity she was not used to, nor her response to his attention. And he kept staring at her, which made her even more self-conscious and puzzled.

  “Well, I hope you learned something that will benefit your company.” She led the way out of the barn.

  “I learned that Professor Abraham was right. You know a lot about organic farming, and you’re a great teacher. I like your style.”

  “Thank you again. You’re dishing out so many compliments, I’m not sure my head is going to fit under the gazebo when I get back.”

  Before he could respond, his cell phone rang.

  “Excuse me. I need to take this.”

  She nodded. “Sure.”

  “Hey, Glenda,” Miles said as he stepped away.

  Unexpectedly, Kyla wondered if Glenda was his girlfriend. From what she remembered, he dated starlets from California to New York, nothing but high-profile models and A-list actresses, of course. She continued to walk down the path and back to the group.

  Most of the people had left, but a few had hung back, waiting to speak to her. She answered some questions before Miles returned. His brother and friend waited for him outside the gazebo.

  “Ms. Coleman, I’d like to thank you for an enlightening morning. I’m afraid we have to leave, but the experience is one I won’t soon forget.”

  She could tell he’d enjoyed himself by the huge smile on his face. “Hopefully you have a new appreciation for organics now.”

  Miles chuckled. “Let’s say I have a better understanding of the work involved, and I see why you’re so passionate about it. I understand the health benefits, but it seems like a mighty slow way to feed large groups of people.”

  “Organic food can feed the masses. If we had more time, I’d tell you how.”

  “Another time, then.” Miles held out his hand. “Tell your family I said thank you for breakfast and the hospitality.”

  She accepted his hand. “I will.” She looked down at his dirt-and soil-spotted T-shirt. “Next time we’ll have large enough gloves or an apron for you to wear.”

  He smiled and brushed at his soiled shirt.

  “Drive safely.” Kyla said goodbye and rejoined the group of guests, while Miles and his crew walked up the path to the parking lot. She tried her best not to watch him walk away. Her brush with celebrity had been brief, but entertaining. Yet she still didn’t see what all the fuss was about. He hadn’t struck her as any different from any of the other country boys running around the area. Maybe he was more handsome and charming, and had perfect teeth, which usually scored high in her book, but those weren’t things to get your panties in a bunch about.

  Ben walked up next to her. “Are they leaving?”

/>   “Yep,” she said, half relieved, and half saddened, for some strange reason.

  “Man, I didn’t get his autograph or anything. I wanted a picture.”

  “Ben, he’s just a man. Tracee took pictures with her phone. Ask her to send you one.”

  “Okay, but I wanted a selfie with him.” He walked off mumbling, “Man, Miles Parker was here and I didn’t even get a picture.”

  Shaking her head, Kyla turned around to clean up her working area, but couldn’t resist the urge to glance up the hill to the parking lot. A large black SUV drove slowly down the long driveway to the main road. She smiled to herself. “Goodbye, Mr. Parker. Maybe we’ll meet again sometime.”

  * * *

  Exactly a week later, just as the buzz of having a celebrity in the house had all but died down, Kyla walked into the dining room and found a framed photograph of Miles and Rita, smiling from ear to ear. The picture hung above the buffet table.

  “Nice, isn’t it?” Tracee asked as she strolled in behind Kyla, pushing a dust mop across the hardwood floors.

  Kyla crossed her arms. “Huh, the only thing missing is his scribbled autograph across the bottom.”

  “Yeah, about that. Do you think you’ll see him again?” Tracee asked.

  Kyla unfolded her arms. “I should think not! It’s not like he’s one of my buddies or anything. If I ever see that man again, it’ll probably be on television coming out of some swanky night club in LA or escorting some starlet on some award show’s red carpet.”

  “Well, the more popular he gets, the better for us.”

  “And how do you figure that?”

  “Because you’re going to take one of those pictures I took and put it on our website and Facebook. You can say, ‘A typical guest at The Coleman House B and B.’”

  Kyla’s head jerked back. “Aunt Rita is not going to let us post her picture all over the internet. Besides, don’t you have to ask his permission to do something like that?”

  “If you knew how to get in touch with him, you could ask.”

  “Well, I don’t.”

  “Nice picture, isn’t it?” Tayler asked, as she stopped at the entrance to the dining room with a hamper full of sheets.

  Kyla looked up at the picture again. “You really think so?”

  “Of course.” Tayler entered the room. “Rita’s so proud of it. Her first celebrity. She’s thinking about sending a copy to the paper. Rollin told her to go ahead. It might bring a little free publicity our way. I think we can get them to do another feature on the B and B.”

  Kyla tilted her head, giving the picture one more careful review. Was Miles really that big a deal? And she hadn’t seen her Aunt Rita happy about any photo taken of herself in years. She did have Miles’s business card in her bag somewhere. Maybe Tayler was right. She shrugged before saying, “I guess I could put up one post.”

  Tracee cleared her throat and continued dusting the floor around Kyla. “I’ll email you the pictures.”

  Kyla slowly nodded. After all, what harm could it do?

  Chapter 5

  “Are we sure we want to get in bed with these guys?” Glenda asked.

  Miles sat across the table from his business partner, at Saul Good’s sandwich shop, and contemplated her question. In the five years he and Glenda Edmunds had been in business together, her instincts had never been wrong. Glenda may have the body of a supermodel, but she also had the brains of a business mogul. The first time they met at a local beer festival he attended with friends, he asked her out. That date turned into a business meeting, and the partnership was formed.

  “What about the Latin American deal don’t you like?” Miles asked.

  “It’s too good to be true. I agree we need more public–private partnerships to generate crops that meet the needs of poorer countries, but the study they’re citing, I’ve never heard of this institute.” She pushed some papers across the table to him. “Give me a little more time to study them before we all sit down.”

  He picked up the papers and skimmed over the first page. “Sure, take a few more days.”

  “Great.” Glenda closed her folder and sat back in her seat. “So, how are things going with Brandon?”

  After taking a deep breath, Miles rested his forearms on the table’s edge and turned his hands palms up. “He’s coming along, I guess. It’s not quite the summer vacation he planned, but I’m gonna make sure he goes back to school with some real-world business experience.”

  “How did he like the World Hunger Day conference?”

  Miles shrugged. “He got bored and started hitting on some of the young female volunteers.”

  Glenda laughed. “He’s a Parker, all right. Why don’t you let him shadow me for a week or so? We can take care of some business, and he can help me shop for a new car.”

  “Oh, he’ll love that. The car part, anyway.”

  She held her fork up. “Then let’s make it happen.”

  Miles nodded, and they continued to eat. After several bites, Glenda got back to business.

  “So, last week when we spoke you were going to check out the property in Nicholasville I was telling you about. What happened with that?”

  “It’s been a crazy week. I haven’t had time to run back down there.”

  “I thought you were already in the area? You said you were in Danville.”

  “I was actually on a working organic farm in Danville.”

  Glenda put her fork down, laughing, and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “You worked on an organic farm? What on earth for?”

  “At the conference, my college mentor introduced me to this woman who has a nonprofit program called Rooted Beginnings that focuses on organic fruits and vegetables. She’s already gotten her program into the local school system. She’s pretty sharp.”

  Glenda leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. “Oh, I get it now. What’s her name?”

  “Kyla Coleman. She’s working on her PhD. And what is it that you get, exactly?” he asked before taking another bite of his burger.

  “Why Miles Parker would spend any time on a farm.”

  Miles straightened his back. Glenda knew him better than anyone. He wasn’t the type of guy who planted his own anything. He purchased everything from the grocery store or had the store deliver. She also knew he wasn’t the womanizer the gossip rags made him out to be. “Glenda, you know me better than that. Her program sounded like something I might be interested in, so I decided to check it out.”

  “Miles, dial it back. You’re talking to me. We deal in drought-resistant soybean seeds, not organic fruits and vegetables. Unless you’re thinking about investing in another business?”

  “No, of course not. But I like to remain open to everything. During her presentation, she mentioned something about a new method in farming. I was hoping to learn more, but she didn’t get into that.”

  “So what did you learn?”

  “That she places a large emphasis on food education. It was interesting.”

  Glenda leaned forward. “In other words, nothing, when you should have been checking out that fourteen-acre farm in Nicholasville. I’m telling you, it’s going up for foreclosure, and we need to grab it.”

  Miles wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I’m thinking about going back down there for a week, so I’ll check it out then.”

  Glenda’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes, I am. The farm is also a B and B. The owner, Rollin Coleman, is a former football player from UK. He was there at the same time I was. It’s a nice place. Besides, in half a day’s time I didn’t get to see much of what she does.”

  Glenda exhaled a long breath and looked down at the table. Then she inhaled and raised her head. “Miles, I hope it’s the farming you want to get up close and personal with, and not something else.”

  Finis
hed eating, Miles pushed his plate aside. “Glenda, I’m all about business. If anybody knows that by now, it’s you.”

  Glenda also pushed her plate aside just as the waiter came to clear the table. After he walked away she said, “I know, you’ve been more focused than ever lately. It’s ultimately up to you, but I don’t think I’d stay a whole week. A day or two, maybe. What do you hope to learn in a week’s time?”

  A little voice in the back of Miles’s head told him to listen to Glenda, but his instincts shut that voice up. “Something that will take our business to the next level. You know how we stumbled across that microfinancing connection?”

  Glenda nodded.

  “Well, if my instincts are any good, our next business venture might be right there waiting for me to come digging in the dirt.”

  * * *

  After Miles had his assistant book him a room at the B and B under an assumed name, she’d informed him that the photo he’d authorized via email of himself and the cook was posted proudly on their website. He smiled when he thought about that day as he headed back to the B and B to spend some more time. The only thing that mildly worried him now was not being able to monitor Brandon for a week, but Glenda had assured him she had everything under control.

  Miles arrived at the B and B on a Sunday evening just past sunset. He grabbed his duffel bag from the backseat of his SUV and walked up to the front porch. Two guests had taken up residence in the large white rocking chairs that flanked the front door.

  “Good evening, folks,” Miles said in greeting.

  “Evening, sir.” An elderly man in wire-rimmed spectacles holding a glass of what looked like whiskey, but was probably iced tea, returned the greeting.

  “Good evening.” The woman across the porch with knitting yarn and needles in her lap spoke without looking up.

  Miles smiled at the Norman Rockwell-ish scene and opened the front door. He walked into the foyer and immediately smelled something baking. He didn’t know if it was apple pie, banana bread or a combination of both, but it smelled wonderful. The first time he’d visited, he had two young men with him who took most of his attention. This time, the grandness of the foyer caught his eye the minute he walked in. He was reminded of several classic films he’d watched that were set in the South.