Damn, I’m getting old.
“This is Ava and Winter.” Charlie made the introductions while Sawyer and Jace pulled over two chairs.
“Tell me what you have in mind,” Jace said. He’d never been one for small talk.
“We need about three acres to grow our flowers,” Ava said and went on to list the genus and species of about a dozen plants in Latin. For all Sawyer knew, they were roses and snapdragons. Both girls vibrated with so much enthusiasm about it that it made Sawyer dizzy. It was if they were talking about the Giants clinching the 2010 World Series after a fifty-six-year losing streak.
“And we’d need a building we could use as a shop,” Ava continued. “Nothing as big as this, of course.” She looked around the Refind showroom, which used to stable Grandpa Dalton’s horses.
Before the drought, when the cattle business was booming, he’d built a state-of-the-art barn where the horses currently lived and over time this one had gotten a little long in the tooth. The new construction and addition would return the old barn to its earlier splendor, even if it no longer housed Grandpa Dalton’s prized cutting horses.
But the rehab cost money, a fact Sawyer couldn’t lose sight of. Hence the meeting with the Powerpuff girls.
“Just big enough for a couple of refrigerator units, a workspace, and a small showroom,” Ava continued in a way that sounded more like an apology than a business transaction.
Sawyer supposed he and his cousins were expected to pay for the build-out. Between lumber, labor, electrical, and plumbing, it wouldn’t be cheap.
“What kind of rent are we talking about?” Sawyer asked.
Winter cleared her throat. “Uh, what were you thinking?”
Sawyer exchanged a glance with Jace and tried not to laugh. Fresh out of college and raring to go without a clue. But so damned earnest that Sawyer had to force himself to stay firm. Otherwise he’d give away the whole damn store.
“Let’s come back to that,” Jace said. “Right now, I’m more interested in your model and whether it fits in with our vision.”
“We want to basically be a farmers’ market for flowers,” Winter said. “Straight from the field to the consumer. We’re also planning to do floral arrangements, wreaths, that sort of thing, for weddings and special events and to sell from the shop.”
Charlie grinned proudly and Aubrey nodded her head as if the graduates had re-created the wheel.
“You have a business plan with your profit-and-loss projections?” Sawyer asked.
Both women looked at each other blankly.
“I could help them with that,” Charlie rushed in. “They’re farmers,” she said, trying to smooth over the girls’ lack of business acumen. But to be a successful farmer you had to have a strategy, not just a dream.
Jace flicked up the brim of his Stetson and flashed a gooey smile at Charlie while Sawyer threw up a little in his mouth. If Ava and Winter failed they wouldn’t be able to make their rent, which wasn’t going to help Dry Creek Ranch.
“We could have the plan to you by tomorrow,” Ava quickly volunteered, clearly unaware of how long it took to put together a comprehensive executive summary, market analysis, marketing plan, and sales strategy. Weeks, even months.
They were so gung ho it was hard to fault them for being in way over their heads.
He looked over at Jace, who looked back at him. Ah, jeez, they were going to do this. They were going to let these two novices run a flower shop from their ranch because Jace was so in love with his fiancée that he couldn’t think straight and would do whatever she wanted. And she clearly wanted the girls.
Sawyer was just a sucker, plain and simple.
Too bad Cash wasn’t here. He was a pragmatist, unlike the rest of them. He would’ve put the brakes on this so fast there would’ve been skid marks all the way to Dry Creek Road.
“Get us that plan and we’ll take it from there,” Jace said.
The girls took off in their vintage red truck and Sawyer turned to Jace, Charlie, and Aubrey. “You know this is crazy, right?”
Jace shrugged. “Farming’s good.”
Sawyer shook his head and hiked back to his loft apartment where a phone message from his mother awaited. He hitreturnon her number and she picked up on the third ring, a sign that whatever she had to say was important. Usually, they played phone tag for a day or so before they connected. His father was a little easier to get, but was often too distracted to carry on a coherent conversation.
“Have you seen Gina?” Sawyer’s mother asked by way of a greeting. “I’m worried about her.”
“She was here a few hours ago. I assume you know about the texts? She was making phone calls while she was here. I presumed you were one of the people with whom she was talking.”
