by Andrea Thome
India got the news when she answered her phone and heard Julia’s breathless voice on the line. She’d been just about to walk out the door to head to her final landscape workshop when the vibrating phone got her attention. She unplugged it from the charger and answered as she walked out the door.
Julia barely gave her time to say hello.
“That son of a bitch! I can’t believe he would stoop so low. I mean, of course he would, but seriously! What are you going to do? I think you should send out a counter tweet immediately! I mean . . . who would believe that you would be stalking him? Except Internet trolls, of course. Twelve thousand retweets? Yuck.”
India tried to make sense of what Julia was saying, but she couldn’t get a word in. She was sitting in her golf cart now, too stunned to start driving.
“Jules . . . slow down. What about Jack and Twitter? What are you talking about . . . stalking?”
She couldn’t believe Jack would have mentioned anything to anyone about last night. He’d been asked to leave! Why would he make that public?
“You mean you don’t know? Oh God, India. He insinuated that you were stalking him! Well, actually he retweeted an article that quoted an anonymous source that claims you followed him and his girlfriend—that chef—to their resort in Tennessee, and that you cornered him at dinner, begging him to take you back. Why would he retweet a story like that unless he’d planted it? It’s total fiction! And how the hell does he know where you are? He’s the stalker! You have to set the record straight.”
India couldn’t believe it. Jack was a master at making her look like a fool. His forlorn photo shoot after she’d dumped him, and now this? This kind of thing could permanently ruin her reputation, even if she came out and denied it immediately. A retweet wasn’t the answer. Especially since, technically, it wasn’t total fiction, and it was her word against his.
“Jules . . . of course it’s a lie. I mean . . . mostly. Jack was here last night, and I did run into him at a private dinner that we both attended. His girlfriend was the guest chef, but her visit was planned ages ago. The rest is a crock. Wyatt actually kicked Jack out after he made an ass of himself. No one knows it, though, because it was just the two of them in a hallway, and Wyatt generously allowed him to save face by saying he was sick. Oh God, why would he do this?”
“Because he’s an asshole, India! How are you going to handle it? You can’t let people think he’s telling the truth when they find out you actually were there at the same time. What do you think your bosses will say? You need to hang up right now and call the network. Make sure you let them know your side of the story. You can’t let him win.”
India knew Julia was right. She had to get out in front of this, and she knew calling Jack and begging him to deny the story was hopeless.
“Thanks, Jules. I’ll call you tomorrow when I’m back in New York. I’ll do what I can to make this right. Love you, friend.”
India hung up and scrolled through her contacts. Finding her general manager, she dialed the number and spent the better part of the next half hour doing her best to clean up Jack’s mess.
Workshop guests spent that final day photographing several different locations around Blackberry Farm, enjoying one-on-one time with the instructors. The entire group started on a hill overlooking the boathouse near the main guesthouse, with plans to fan out in three different directions on the property. The final dinner that evening would once again be held in the Yallerhammer Pavilion.
Wyatt was surprised not to see India when it came time to split into groups, especially since he’d dropped her off over two hours before. He waited as long as he could for her to show up before finally taking his guests and heading off toward the stables.
Rex was taking his group over to the dairy, and Violet was just about to head over to where they raised the Lagotto Romagnolo truffle puppies, when India pulled up in her golf cart, clearly flustered.
Violet motioned for her to join her in her own cart while the other guests followed behind.
Violet waited until they had some distance from the group.
“You really dodged a bullet with that guy. He’s the stalker. What a world-class asshole.”
India’s head snapped up, realizing that, somehow, Violet already knew what had happened. She couldn’t imagine how she’d heard. The woman certainly kept her ear to the ground.
Violet looked chagrined.
“This is the part where I admit to following you and Jack on Twitter back when you were engaged.”
She couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact with India, biting her lip in embarrassment.
“I’d forgotten all about it until this morning. I usually ignore notifications from social media, but when my phone blew up with retweets . . . well, it was hard to miss. I can’t believe he would do that to you.”
She steered the cart down the hill, past fields full of horses and sheep.
India shook her head, determined to move on. Fortunately, her station had believed her, suggesting that they had a way to make sure the public knew exactly what she’d been doing in Tennessee—and it wasn’t stalking the competition’s meteorologist. It was in the network’s best interest to squash that notion.
NBC would issue a press release stating that India was on assignment for the network, in preparation for an upcoming piece on Blackberry Farm and heirloom farming. It was a win for her and a win for the resort. She was relieved to have gotten out of the whole mess relatively unscathed.
“I’ve tried to give Jack the benefit of the doubt, but he won’t get sympathy from me after this stunt,” India said. “I know he was hurt when I called things off, but I protected his reputation the best I could. It’s clear he’s never had the same concern for mine.”
She waved her hand dismissively.
“The network is going to make it right, thank God. They are going to say I was here for a story, which will hopefully benefit the farm too. So all’s well. I’m not letting this ruin my last day with”—she caught herself—“at Blackberry.” Violet looked at her and smiled.
“I’m glad to hear that. I know a certain teacher who was pretty bummed his favorite student was tardy this morning. Why don’t I swing by the stables and drop you off? I’m sure he has a few last things he’d love to teach you.”
They laughed together as Violet swung the cart into a last-minute U-turn.
Wyatt saw the two of them flying down the cart path toward him, Violet’s red hair and India’s blonde fanned out behind them. They were laughing together as they pulled up, a sight he hoped he’d get to see more of.
She fit him. His friends, his family. His life. He hoped she would come to the same conclusion when she went back to New York, but the alternative scared the shit out of him. He shook the thought away, determined to make the most of this last day and night with her. Then it was up to fate. And India.
They spent the next several hours looking at the world differently, experiencing the beauty of East Tennessee through the lens. India loved listening to him talk with the other guests about his passion, and found her own love for the genre reignite. She’d forgotten what a rush it was to capture an image at the exact moment when the light was perfect.
The sheep’s woolen white faces and pink ears in the leafy green meadows where they grazed, late-afternoon sun casting shadows in all the right places.
Perfection.
She could hardly wait to edit and print the photos she’d taken. She felt so connected and satiated, and it was supremely satisfying on so many levels. She’d found the sweet spot. It had been a long time coming.
The guests said good-bye to each other, promising to reunite in an hour for drinks and dinner. India hung back, waiting for the last couple to thank Wyatt before they drove away. He slung his camera strap over his shoulder and turned to walk toward where she stood on the bank of the river.
She loved this man. She knew it in her bones now.
India raised her camera and snapped a quick series of him as he
approached. His face changed from happy to surprised and, as he got closer, to something else altogether. She lowered her camera, throwing it over her shoulder as he reached for her, drawing her into his embrace. They stood there, holding each other, listening to the river hurry by them.
Everything else was insignificant. She felt intoxicated when he swept her hair behind her ear to whisper, “I want to make out with you so badly right now, but I’ve promised myself I’m going to wait until after dinner. But you should be ready after that. Really ready.”
He pulled back to look at her, his dimpled smile teasing, but not. She couldn’t help but laugh, shivering in anticipation. She’d be ready.
They turned to walk toward Woodshed, their hands clasped, excitedly talking about their day behind the lens the whole way back.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
Dinner was a festive affair, with everyone in great spirits, passionately discussing what they’d learned that week. They’d gotten to know each other well and promised to keep in touch, some even vowing to return to take the workshop again the following year. Jeff invited them all to visit his shop in Austin, and India had to admit that she’d even grown to like Annabelle and Virginia, despite the fact that they’d never given up on Wyatt. By the end of the week, though, she wondered if that wasn’t just part of their shtick. They were funny, and they clearly loved each other. She found herself wishing she’d been able to have that kind of experience with her own mother, however flawed she’d been.
The farewell dinner was incredible. There were dozens of linen-clad tables set with lovely crystal and gorgeous spring flowers. India and Wyatt sat with Finn, Susan, Violet, and Rex, the six of them having great conversations and lots of laughs.
She loved his friends and family and knew it would be almost as hard to leave them as it would be to leave Wyatt.
Almost.
The meal had just wrapped up with an incredible chocolate soufflé when Susan tapped Wyatt on the shoulder, pulling him aside for a private moment. Finn stood with them, and India could see that whatever they were discussing had weight to it. Wyatt’s face grew serious as he listened to each of them speak. She could tell that whatever they were saying, it was a surprise to him. He ran his fingers through his hair like she’d noticed he always did when he was caught off guard. When they’d finished talking, Wyatt reached out to hug them, first Susan, then Finn. India looked away, not wanting to intrude on such a personal moment.
Beyond the pavilion, out on the lawn, she could see that a large number of the staff had gathered, each of them holding a candle. She was wondering whether this was some kind of Blackberry Farm tradition, when she felt Wyatt return to her side and take his seat. He reached over, forgetting where they were, and kissed her tenderly. India could feel eyes on them, but she didn’t care. She laid her palm against his face.
“Is everything OK? I saw you talking to Susan and Finn.” She didn’t want to overstep, but it was clear that something was on his mind.
“Yes. Great, actually.” He smiled that easy smile, but it was obvious there was something he wasn’t saying.
Just then, Violet tapped her glass to get everyone’s attention.
“Rex and I would like to thank you all so much for a wonderful week. We hope you’ve enjoyed yourselves and that you’ve been able to relax in this beautiful place.”
Everyone nodded in agreement, grateful for the time they’d all spent together. Violet smiled.
“We hope you’ve learned something about photography that you’ll take with you and share, and we’d be honored if you’d join us again for another workshop sometime.”
She paused, grabbing Rex’s hand and motioning for Wyatt to join them. He stood and walked over to them.
“If you do decide to come back between now and this time next year, you’ll be in the very best hands. Wyatt has agreed to stay on as the resident photographer here at Blackberry Farm while my husband and daughter and I spend a year working abroad. Wyatt’ll be doing all of the teaching, along with shooting the promotional materials. We hope he’s not too good, though, or we won’t have jobs to come back to!”
They all laughed together before applauding the news. Wyatt raised his glass to the crowd. “A toast: To Violet and Rex, safe travels. To a great group of people and an incredible week, and hopefully, many more to come.” He looked directly at India. “And . . . to love. Cheers.”
Glasses clinked, toasting new friendships formed and lessons learned.
Wyatt took a big sip of his beer, smiled at India, and then continued. “We told you at the beginning of the week that we always want our guests to feel like family when they’re here.” He looked over at Finn and Susan and nodded to them.
“So much so, we have a special treat for you tonight.”
India saw Susan and Finn get up and start to leave the pavilion, walking out among the employees that had gathered in the yard. They joined another person who was standing on the pond’s dock, which had been lined with tea lights. India looked back at Wyatt, who had also seen them leave and was now grinning from ear to ear.
“Ladies and gentleman, we would like to request the honor of your presence as we witness the marriage of two very special people. Please join me, along with the rest of the staff of Blackberry Farm, who’ve gathered here tonight, to attend the wedding of Susan Eden and Finn Janssen.”
The crowd gasped, then spontaneously erupted into cheers and applause. Everyone moved out into the yard, lit up by the flickering candles, and gathered as close to the dock as possible. As she neared the pond, India could see that a minister was waiting for them there. Finn and Susan were holding hands, looking very much in love.
Wyatt walked up beside India, slipping his hand into hers. She turned to look at him, the tears in his eyes barely visible in the darkness. She slipped her arm around his waist, and they watched together in awe as the two people who’d loved Wyatt the most promised themselves to each other for eternity.
The wedding was short but poignant, the groom joking that they’d wasted so much time, they needed to hurry up and get on with the honeymoon. Guests and staff would talk about sharing that special evening with them for years to come.
India and Wyatt said good night and then strolled together back to her cottage, each of them desperately aware of the ticking clock. Her flight was leaving Knoxville just before noon the next day, and Wyatt had promised to take her to the airport after breakfast. Neither of them wanted to think about that now.
Instead, they talked about what a lovely surprise it was to have the entire staff on hand for the wedding ceremony, and how it was so like Susan and Finn to want them there. Wyatt was happy but still a little stunned.
“I can’t believe they’re married. I have to hand it to them; they went for it. How did I miss it all these years? I know I was away a lot, but I always thought they were just the best of friends. I figured Finn was content spending his life in his garden. How could I have thought that would be enough?”
He looked at India. He hadn’t meant to suggest anything. She smiled at him as they slowly swung their clasped hands between them.
“I’m not offended. Finn told me just the other night not to mistake my career for companionship. He admitted that he’d made that mistake himself. Not in so many words, but I can see now that’s what he meant.” She looked at him again. “That’s not what I’m doing, Wyatt. I just want to be sure. I want that for both of us, and the only way to be certain is to get some perspective. And that only comes from time apart.”
They walked in silence for a few minutes until they saw the lights of Woodshed.
“I don’t want to talk about time apart yet, India. I plan to spend the next ten hours very much together.”
He picked up the pace, pulling her toward the porch.
She laughed nervously, trying to keep up with him.
She had just unlocked the door when he spun her around, his face unreadable in the shadows, but his desire for her tangible none
theless.
Wyatt grabbed her by the waist and pressed her up against the side of the building. He reached down, pulling her dress up high on her legs, his hands powerful and demanding on her thighs. She gasped when she felt his thumbs graze her underwear.
India grabbed the back of his head, crushing her mouth to his, her inability to get close enough to him driving her wild.
They kissed as if it were the last time they’d be allowed to. He knew exactly what he was doing to her with his hands, and it drove him crazy to feel her body respond to his touch so viscerally. He sent her over the edge, her ability to form rational thoughts shattered.
She couldn’t get enough, even more turned on now that he’d begun to scratch the itch. She jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Wyatt carried her to the door, then through it, and into the living room.
They stumbled together, in a frantic rush of peeled clothing, over to the couch. Wyatt won the race, ridding himself of his clothing in record time, available to help her do the same. The fire was crackling in the hearth, as it had been every evening she’d returned to her room.
Wyatt lifted her dress over her head and hesitated only a moment to admire her flawless beauty in the firelight before he sat down on the couch, pulling her on top of him, her legs straddling his as she sat down and took him in completely, their faces just inches apart.
He groaned at the pleasure of being inside her, a sound she felt to her core. They were as close as two people could be, and the sensation was unforgettable.
He knew he would never love like this again; she felt the same. They moved together, their bodies and souls in perfect harmony as he whispered to her, things that made her blush. Things that made her lose her mind. She knew the only way she could hold on to her sanity was to try to take back some control.