“Is that okay with you?” Carly asked, still swiveled and studying me through appraising eyes.
I was reminded that I hadn’t told her anything about my history with Andrew and kicked myself. It wasn’t exactly the moment to get into it now either. I’d gossiped in front of Joe before, and he was always ready to offer the male perspective whennecessary, but now that he was training with Andrew it changed things.
Joe wasn’t exactly discreet. The truth was, he was more of a gossip than his wife. I loved getting the dirt about his colleagues and friends, but I knew that his willingness to spill the tea on them meant he’d probably also be capable of doing it to me. But not maliciously. Joe just enjoyed being chatty, it was part of his friendly, affable appeal. I could totally picture him letting something I’d said about Andrew slip accidentally.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I said in as neutral a voice as I could manage.
I tried not to pout all the way to the farm, keeping up my side of the conversation while my mind spun out of control about the possibility of enduring a hayride next to Andrew. What we were about to do felt suspiciously like a double date. Was it planned? Were they trying to force something between us?
I sighed. This night was going tosuck.
“Don’t worry, it’s not a double date,” Carly said, as if she’d read my thoughts. She turned to Joe. “Didn’t you say there were a bunch of pictures of him with a girl in his Insta?”
I froze as dread fishtailed in my chest. Andherewas where Joe’s tendency to gossip was going to work in my favor.
“Not sure,” Joe said as he pulled onto the property and followed a teen in a reflective vest to a parking spot in the crowded field. “I accidentally requested his private Instagram account and not the Crush account, but he accepted me, so I snooped around. There were photos of him and a girl, but there’s nothing recent. They were from last year.”
“What did she look like?” Carly asked, and I wanted to high-five her for getting to the important question.
“Hot. Like, superhot. Kinda Zoë Kravitz–ish but with moreoomph.” He made a vague sweeping movement in front of his chest. “I think she’s a fitness model in Miami or something?”
Zadie. He was definitely talking about Zadie.
Carly gave him side-eye. “And how would you knowthat?”
“I looked her up,” he admitted sheepishly. “I was curious! Anyway, she didn’t have any pictures of him on her feed so I don’t think they’re together.”
I’d looked up Zadie Palmer a few times myself but couldn’t find her, and I assumed it was because she’d named herself something like “The Real Zadie Palmer” or “Zadie Palmer Official.” There was no need for me to tap into my full stalking abilities because I already knew that she was beautiful and perfect and I didn’t want to subject myself to photos of her looking incredible in swimsuits.
I tumbled out of the car, suddenly feeling grumpy about all things fall. The happy family throwing leaves at each other? Awful. A cute couple sharing a caramel apple? Revolting. I wanted to grab a spiked cider and get lost in the corn maze until it was time to go.
Joe rushed ahead of us, looking down at his phone, and Carly threw her arm around my shoulder as we followed behind him to the strung-up café lights and crowds. Abbott Farm was the go-to holiday destination for the entire county so the place was crawling with people looking for their fall fix.
“Sorry about surprising you with that,” she said in a low voice. “I didn’t know until right before we left the house. I think Joe is hoping for a little bromance. Total hero worship. I actually caught him flexing in the mirror!”
“Sure, I get it,” I muttered back. “But I’m not Andrew’s biggest fan. I haven’t told you this yet, but we have some...history.”
Her eyes went wide and she drew back from me. “Do you now? And why did you keep it from me? Spill it.”
Joe spun around before I could answer her. “Andrew is at the log-chopping contest! They’re getting ready to start. We need to hurry!” He jogged back and grabbed Carly’s hand, and she grabbed mine.
I allowed myself to be pulled along, trying to come up with not only an excuse to leave early but also a way to get home. Uber wasn’t exactly booming in Wismer. I glanced around the crowd for familiar faces, hoping that I could bum a ride with someone.
We came up to a small raised platform where Andrew and two other people stood behind massive sawed-off tree trunks, with piles of logs behind them.
“All right, folks,” the event organizer said over a handheld megaphone. “We’ve got three hardy contestants for the first round of chopping. Who can split the most logs in a minute? Is it Pamela, Kenny, or Andrew? The winner gets to come back to pick a complimentary Christmas tree on December first and a basket of goodies from our holiday farmstand. You folks ready? Let’s wish them good luck!”
The crowd cheered. Joe pulled us into an open area so we could see better and I slunk down behind him. Andrew was shrugging off his black jacket, making him look the part in a yellow-checked flannel shirt and jeans. He rolled up his sleeves as if to prove that he meant business and once again I had to wonder if the man was immune to cold. Here I was in four layers and I still felt the night air creeping under my sweater and nipping my fingertips.
“Oh, Andrew’s definitely going to win,” Joe said, his gazejumping between the contestants. “Kenny could be a contender, but Pamela? No way.”
Carly waited until Joe turned back and snorted at me. “Oh my God,” she mouthed, rolling her eyes and pointing at her husband.
But he was right. Pamela looked like a mom who’d been put up to the competition by her girlfriends and Kenny was a beanpole of a man compared to Andrew.
A whistle sounded and the trio started chopping. Pamela managed to get her ax stuck in the log immediately and tried in vain to wrench it free while Kenny split the logs so quickly that the pieces went airborne each time his ax sliced through the wood. Andrew chopped at a respectable pace, but he was nowhere near as fast as the dark horse competitor.
“I guess that guy’s a ringer,” Joe said over his shoulder, looking disappointed. He turned back and started clapping with the rest of the crowd. “C’mon, Andrew!”
