Prune, Plant, or Plunder?

by Jessica Gardener Lee

  Prune, Plant, or Plunder?

  By Jessica Lee

  Copyright @ 2011 by Jessica Lee, Inc.

  All rights reserved.

  Edited by M.E. Hart

  Cover Art by Randi Cecchine and Michele Ritchie

  Table of Contents

  Summary

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements & Dedications

  Chapter 1 - First Impressions

  Chapter 2 - A Prickly Assignment

  Chapter 3 - Is the Project Sustainable?

  Chapter 4 - Bad Blood Between the Albero and Ivy Families

  Chapter 5 - Sharon Rose’s Dying Wish

  Chapter 6 - More is Lost

  Chapter 7 - Time to Vent

  Chapter 8 - What on Earth?

  Chapter 9 - Max Learns the Truth

  Chapter 10 - Prune, Plant, or Pilfer?

  Chapter 11 - Breakfast of Champions

  Chapter 12 - Road Trip

  Chapter 13 - One-upping the Ivys

  Chapter 14 - More of the Unexpected

  Chapter 15 - Ivy in the Storm

  Chapter 16 - The Abduction

  Chapter 17 - The Incarceration

  Chapter 18 - The Warning

  Chapter 19 - A Decision

  Chapter 20 - On The Run

  Chapter 21 - The Reception

  Chapter 22 - Finally Getting Down and Dirty

  Chapter 23 - The New Normal

  Chapter 24 - Through the Main Elevator

  Chapter 25 - Always Well–Suited

  Chapter 26 - Gaining Ground

  Chapter 27 - A Dip In The Pool

  Afterword

  Summary

  Romance and intrigue on the Main Line…

  She was born with a metal trowel in her hand; he was born with a silver spoon. Is their relationship sustainable?

  Readers with an interest in gardening will enjoy the many references to horticulture in this suspense-filled romance.

  Local references to the storied suburbs of Philadelphia, the Main Line, and Valley Forge, as well as environmental awareness, permeate the novel.

  This is the first in a series of "Main Line Romance" stories based on an unforgettable group of locals. Enjoy!

  About the Author

  Jessica Lee co-founded an environmental club at Lower Merion High school in the fabled Main Line of Philadelphia, and she is a Master Gardener on hiatus in suburban Philadelphia. An active mother of three active sons, she's been happily married for 17 years. When she isn't taking her sons on outdoor activities, such as apple picking or planting their own individual gardens, she is trying to read and write in her spare time. Jessica has a master’s degree in reading and language arts and an undergraduate degree with a double major in literature and cultural anthropology. She has taught english literature, english as a second language, and also worked as an assistant registrar at a college on the Main Line.

  Acknowledgements & Dedications

  Thank you to God, my parents, in-laws, and sister.

  I wish to acknowledge my fearless editor, M.E. Hart, for taking time from her busy schedule, for her nitpicking the story with a fine-tooth comb, and for always believing in this project.

  Cover art acknowledgements go to Randi Cecchine and Michele Ritchie.

  Lancaster County inspirations came from Debbie, a dedicated educator.

  Thank you to Mildred for sharing the story of her life and for all of her knitting and prayers.

  Thank you to the Chakov family, especially Becky, for your encouragement and help early on.

  Lastly, thank you to my husband and sons, for putting up with my frequent escapes to the computer room to work on this story.

  Dedications

  This story is dedicated to the memory of my inspiring aunts- Helen, Barbara, Rose, Lena, Angie, Dorothy and Pauline - for your grace, determination, and fortitude, and for appreciating that sometimes the simplest things in life are also the finest.

  Chapter 1 - First Impressions

  “You never have a second chance to make a first impression.”

  Carolina Albero to her grandchildren, Jimmy and Isabella

  Partially concealing Max’s broad chest was an incongruous dark blue apron covered in golden French hens. On his head was a large white chef’s cap. Wynnewood’s most famous homegrown talent was hiding in the kitchen. Attempting to pass off his social avoidance as a “good deed,” he escaped the crowded engagement party by sequestering himself with the marinating steaks.

  Max was disappointed to be away from the ocean view from the deck of his white Roman coliseum-like property on Long Beach Island, the Ivy family’s vacation compound. He had planned to spend most of his hiatus from his lucrative, but sometimes chaotic, TV job at the beachfront property.

  Mostly, Max just wanted to be outdoors, in the fresh air, which he did just about any chance that he got. The outside was his favorite place to be, but the kitchen was a distant second. He knew his way around kitchens from his new town, Los Angeles, to his home town of Wynnewood, Pennsylvania. Making people smile through his unique creations was one of the ways that Max found joy and pleasure.

  His father, however, did not think it was appropriate for the only son of a Main Line old-money family to be a culinary artist, landscape artist, or any kind of artist whatsoever.

  Most of the wealthiest folks in the famed outskirts of Philadelphia had amassed their fortunes in pharmaceuticals, the defense industry, and finance. Following the financial downturn of the last decade, only a select few of the wealthy along the Main Line were still from old money. The rest of the people of privilege, according to Mr. Harrison Alexander Ivy, were merely transplants or upstarts.

  During his want-for-nothing upbringing, Max was frequently reminded of the uniqueness of his and his much older sister, Julia’s, pedigree. Because of his hallowed place on the social register, and his outstanding personal characteristics, his future was already written in stone. His parents expected him to be a CEO, a U.S. senator, or a diplomat, like his paternal uncle. They put up with some of Julia’s eccentricities, but they expected more from Max because he would perpetuate the Ivy name into the new millennium.

  Much to the chagrin of his meddling parents, Max ended up in a much different line of work - one that usually involved planting, pruning, and on occasion, picking.

  But on the day of his favorite niece, Charlene’s engagement party, he was simply marinating. With his escape to the solitary confines of the kitchen, Max mostly hoped to avoid his sister and her cohorts, the cheerleaders from the class of ’82. As they clucked and gabbed while cavorting to have him settle down with their unattached daughters (and, in a few cases, even unhappily married ones), most of whom had the personalities of – fittingly – potted plants, Max was happily ensconced in the safe, although a bit stuffy, confines of the kitchen.

  His solitude was interrupted by a creak of the white kitchen door, and a giggly redhead expressing her gratitude. “Oh Max, it is so sweet of you to cook for us. I always enjoy your grilled steaks, what ever do you marinate them in?” asked Charlene, his spitfire niece who escaped from the party with a glass of champagne in hand to bring to her kitchen helper.

  “It is a secret, my dear,” he said, as he gladly took the champagne. “Is the grill all revved up?”

  “Jimmy’s out on the patio, he says it is good to go,” replied a giddy Charlene.

  At that very moment, a gaggle of barking hounds enveloped the kitchen. Jimmy’s two playful but determined canines burst through the kitchen and went right for the perfectly seasoned, juicy, raw steaks. Just as Max was about to grab on to one of the leashes, it got caught on his leg and dragged him to the other side of the kitchen.

  A striki
ng beauty with long dark hair and porcelain skin was trying to gain hold of the other dog’s leash, which had attached itself to the leash that was dragging Max.

  Max found himself tangled and twisted up together with the unknown dream woman. This continued, due to the out of control mutts, until their bodies were pressed snuggly up against each other.

  “No, Rex and Lucky, that’s not your food! Put down those steaks!” Isabella commanded. Suddenly looking up at Max, donning a smile, she felt a need to apologize for the ruckus. “I was trying to take the dogs outside for a walk, but they made a beeline for the kitchen. I’m so sorry!” stammered the shaken up beauty.

  At the sound of a possible hysterical female, Max’s valet-henchman, Cyrus, lurched out of the obscure nook between the kitchen and the study. “Is there anything that you need, sir?” he asked.

  Max was not particularly minding the firm breasts that were pressing against his chest. It was sort of nice the way she was squirming, too.

  Max felt that this kitchen escapade really should be playing itself out, instead of being so rudely interrupted. Perhaps he should give his bodyguard the signal they have set up for when he wanted not to have his body guarded. However, his dedication to his niece made him want to save the party from the invasion of the canine snatchers. He wanted Cyrus, who was hired for his keen problem-solving abilities, quick thinking in the line of fire, and dominating physical strength, to save the cookout. The beautiful brunette, whoever she was, would just have to wait.

  “Cyrus, I would sure like it if we could salvage the steaks. If not, could you go to the nearest butcher shop and purchase some new ones?” Max requested of his trusted employee.

  “It would be my pleasure, sir,” said Cyrus, as he exposed his well-concealed knife and freed his employer and the young lady.

  “Oh, and Cyrus,” Max asked, “Please take a trip to the pet store and buy new leashes for these blasted mutts. Jimmy is out on the patio at the grill and can fill you in on what type to purchase. And could you please return these beasts to whatever room they were romping around in before they thought our steaks were their kibble?”

  “Certainly, sir, and is there a specific type of steak you would like me to get?” he asked.

  “Ask Jimmy about that,” said Max. “I need to get cleaned up; I’ve got champagne all over my shirt.”

  And with that, Max took off his apron and polo shirt to reveal perfect abs, bulging pectoral muscles, and a torso that smelled ever so much like sparkling bubbly.

  At that point, it dawned on him that his lovely new acquaintance, and erstwhile dog walker, was staring at him. Accustomed to garnishing female attention, he smiled broadly. And, therefore, was totally shocked when the young lady in question demurely excused herself and ran out of the room.

  Chapter 2 - A Prickly Assignment

  “Every rose has its thorns.”

  Gardener Dan to his daughter, Isabella

  Isabella ran through their assignment and frowned, a tiny line coming visible in her flawless, pale complexion. It was a quirk of fate, a twist of irony, and a total pain in the butt that an outdoorsy, landscape artist was given a bone-china porcelain face to adorn with the highest SPF she could find. Currently, she was sporting #30 waterproof sunscreen, under foundation with an SPF of 15. Her hair, however, could take the heat and never frizzed, leaving her with little need to fuss with her long black locks.

  Her cousin Jimmy, a true dear in every sense of the word, had asked her to help design his future wife’s yard of her dreams. In addition to designing and installing the garden plan, she would help get Charlene to the site and surprise her.

  Isabella asked if there was a formal garden plan in the works. Jimmy smiled that wry smile he got when he was about to beat her at chess, or Parcheesi, or any other of the myriad of childhood games they played as youngsters in their grandmother’s kitchen.

  “Style and substance,” he explained, “will be our modus operandi here.”

  Isabella was used to the goofy things Jimmy would say. But she also got exasperated at trying to figure out their meaning. Usually, she had to go back and rethink about what the main point was in the preceding conversation, and work forward from here. So, where were they? Oh yeah, something about how he was totally in love with style-conscious Charlene - and willing to do anything to make her feel at home in his and his daughter, Lacey’s, strictly suburban abode. And what was this about a designer? Did they want her to be their designer?

  “Well,” Isabella asked, “we all know my designs have a great deal of substance, but where is all of this style coming from? We all know it isn’t from you.” She had been ribbing him on his clothing choices ever since he wore a skinny tie to his prom, and, since he often put pens in his pocket, he was usually known for his ink stains more than any sort of appreciable style.

  “Of course, I leave all of that color palate stuff to Charlene, although she’s been trying to get me to retract the tips of my pens…”

  “Wait a minute; didn’t you say this is to be kept a surprise from Charlene?” Isabella asked, rapidly growing impatient with her cousin’s circumlocutions. “How are we to get her unique brand of style on the project if she is kept in the dark?”

  “Well,” replied Jimmy, “where do you think she got such a great way of putting a look together, cousin?”

  He explained that Charlene’s mother, Julia, was helping to plan and pay for this surprise. “It was her idea! You met her at the engagement party, what did you think?”

  Isabella recalled a voluptuous 40-something woman, wearing a very current-looking tight beige-colored knitted sweater set ensemble, and a long gold chain, dangling to her midriff. She was really out there, and taking no prisoners as she complained about the stemware pattern that her daughter picked out as being too basic and drab.

  “Your future mother-in-law, while surely stylish, may not have the same sort of taste as your bride. In fact, I think she is the type that would ask me to put in stone fountains on top of motion detector fountains, on top of fountains on top of spring-fed fountains. You know, that type.” Isabella had occasionally complained about customers requesting overly exuberant designs.

  “Jimmy,” she said, “even I can tell that they totally have opposite tastes and styles, and I wore hiking boots to the prom.” Actually, Isabella realized that she really enjoyed Charlene’s taste in elegant clothing. For a 23-year-old, Charlene’s cocktail dress had seemed very cool and retro. It reminded her of the “Jackie O” style from the early 1960’s that Isabella had seen on the History Network. “This is turning into the gift from hell, Jimmy. I can just see it, fountains over fountains...”

  “Yes, well even Julia realizes that she is out of her element in the garden. So she had this great idea to bring her baby brother in on the project. You know, Max, the guy who covered you in Worcester sauce the other night…”

  “Oh, and that’s where we get the lack of substance in this equation, huh?” she responded.

  Jimmy knew that Isabella didn’t hold anything back. She was a woman who held her ground. But, he really didn’t know how she would react to the idea of working closely with Max on a project. They had a history, and not a great one. Max was a fellow Lower Merion graduate who had been in Hollywood, doing one of those before-and-after fixer-upper shows, and he had a habit of telling bad jokes and all of that. But, the bottom line was that he was someone that Isabella couldn’t stand back in high school.

  From being raised around the sort of cold and impervious people like Harrison Ivy, Max had built a tough shell around himself, which resulted in a sometimes uncaring veneer. However, Jimmy knew from his fiancé, that Max was just all sweetness and light when it came to her. She had gone through rough times back in her teens, and fallen in with a group of losers. It was Max who recognized the signs of what was going on and insisted she be pulled out of private school and put into public school so she could meet a new group of kids.

  Jimmy knew that Max was not a bad guy; he just ba
sically played one on TV.

  Jimmy then begged to get her to help. “Please, Isabella, please? It might be fun. If you can see past the bad jokes, he’s really not a bad guy. Won’t you consider working with Max on the design?”

  Before he got to actually groveling, he remembered that he needed to make her seem important in the process, too. It wasn’t all about Max and his Ivy League touch. “I would never think of putting something together like this without the Albero landscaping touch.” That was an understatement. He desperately needed Albero in the mix to keep things affordable. Jimmy had agreed to pay for half of the project’s total cost in plants and materials. However, he was hoping that with the free designing help and with Isabella’s help supervising the budget, plus her connections with the local nurseries and supply houses, to keep to his budget.

  Isabella was prepared to do anything and everything to make this a winning and world-class surprise wedding and house-warming present for her favorite cousin and his off-beat, but adorable bride. There was nothing more invigorating than using one’s God-given talents to enrich the lives of the people she cherished, thought Isabella.