She shakes her head. “I understand that you think you’re not the asshole here. But you are here, by definition, to fuck with the sunflower farm.”
“How so?”
“By developing right next door. Construction noise, disruptions to the land, any and all sorts of chemicals, workers who don’t recognize the importance of this place. And that’s before your ugly-ass apartments are even built, which are going to totally ruin the charm! It is my job as caretaker totake care of the farm, and you’re in my way.”
This chick needs to stop calling my fucking buildings ugly.
“Okay. What if I can promise you that we will guard against those things?”
She rolls her eyes. “Nice language. Sounds like a whole lot ofmeasurementinstead ofplanning.”
She goes to close the door in my face, and without thinking, I stick my soggy foot in it.
She glances down at it, and when her eyes return to my face, I’m pretty sure they leave scorch marks along my skin. “You looking to lose that foot today? I’ve got plenty of land and a number of tractors that can dig you a comfy grave in a hot ten minutes.”
I ignore the threat. “All I’m looking for is a cooperative relationship with you.”
She holds her foot on the opposite side of the door as mine, keeping it in place as she crosses her arms and pops her hip out. “That’s really interesting because from where I’m standing, it sounds like you want something from me.”
Whoops.
Yes, I need her to eventually agree to an easement, but I know she’s not going to do that unless she can be convinced that the development next door is agood thingfor the farm. I know better than to push too hard too soon, but apparently I’ve shown my cards.
“I don’t want anything from you other than to not make an enemy.”
Her eyes narrow as she studies my face.
“Yeah, that’s a load of bullshit, and I’m not buying it.” She kicks my foot, and rather than getting into a physical altercation with her, I let her believe she gave it enough force to actually move it. “Come back when you’re not lying through those pretty teeth.”
And she slams the door in my face.
3
EVE
The town council doesn’t meet for another four days, but I’m not sure I will physically make it that long.
Mayor Reed promised me that whatever development is happening next door would not affect the farm in any way, shape or form.
Yet the first thing Ryder Blackwell does is traipse onto my property in the early hours of the morning and startmeasuringthings.
And then he has the audacity to stick afootin my door.
As the farm winds down for the night, I send my favorite gift shop girl home early to prepare for the date she can’t stop talking about and set myself up on the small stool behind the counter to watch as the last few visitors meander toward the parking lot.
The gift shop is just across the dirt road from my bungalow in a small building that was the farm’s original barn. In the hundred or so years since it’s been built, a newer, larger barn was constructed down the road and out of the way, creating a private, idyllic little patch of land onthe far side of the farm where my grandparents’ water wheel chugs along.
And this one was converted into a charming little gift shop filled with sunflower paraphernalia, almost all of which has been lovingly created by my best friend, Izzy. She does everything from paintings, to the sunflowers on the side of my house, to coffee mugs and keychains and T-shirts.
I can only imagine the snorting laugh that would come out of her if she saw the loafered man referring to me as Ms. Harper.
The thought ofhimhas me googling again.
He’s the only son of a wealthy Manhattan builder and inherited the company after his death, but the articles dry up quickly after news of his father’s fatal stroke has been sufficiently squeezed for clickbait. There are a few boring articles, mostly about charitable donations or his subsidized housing projects being so altruistic—cue my eye roll—but nothing that highlights the snake he is.
He must have a talented PR team behind him, because only an asshole would waltz onto afarmin leatherloafersdriving aBMW, calling the farm owner by hersurnamerather than acting like a real human being.
I mean, I’m the first to admit that this town is a weird place with an unhealthy obsession with sunflowers. I’m the caretaker for the namesake sunflower farm—Iknowit’s ridiculous.
