"Oh no," Ivy says.
My phone rings. Maya's name flashes on screen.
"You're going to want to answer that," Ivy says quietly.
I do.
"ROGAN ALEXANDER THORN!" Maya's voice could strip paint. "You have thirty seconds to explain why the entire town thinks you're dating Ivy Hale and why I had to find out FROM FACEBOOK!"
I look at Ivy.
She looks at me.
"This is going to be a problem," she says.
My phone keeps ringing.
CHAPTER 10
IVY
Maya's shrieking echoes through Rogan's phone loud enough that I hear every word from two feet away.
"Defineproblem," Rogan says, which proves he's either brave or stupid.
"The kind where Mrs. Shay asked me if you're settling down and Mr. Kowalski wants to know if we're doing a couples' tasting menu special!"
I pinch the bridge of my nose. My boots are caked in mud. My braid's a catastrophe. And somewhere between the barn and this road, my entire professional reputation just combusted.
"We can manage this," I say, though I'm not sure I believe it.
"Who's we?" Maya demands. "Put me on speaker."
Rogan taps the screen. Maya's face fills it, all narrowed eyes and crossed arms.
"Ivy Hale. Please tell me you have a crisis management plan."
"I have a trowel and three packets of winter squash seeds."
"Perfect. Very useful." She drags a hand through her hair. "The Chamber of Commerce breakfast is in two hours. You're both expected. Looking professional. Not like you just rolled out of a barn."
"We didn't roll—" Rogan starts.
"Save it." Maya's expression softens fractionally. "Listen. I'm happy for you. Really. But the timing is garbage, and Webb's people are already weaponizing this."
My stomach drops. "Weaponizing how?"
"Check your email."
I grasp my phone. Three new messages wait in my inbox, all flagged urgent.
The first is from Marcus Webb's assistant.Re: Community Partnership Concerns.
I skim it. Professional language wrapped around a poison core. Phrases like "potential conflicts of interest" and "questions about seed program neutrality" and "donors prefer transparent governance structures."
"He's implying I'm compromised," I say flatly. "That I can't advocate for local sourcing because I'm involved with a chef who benefits from it."
"Bingo." Maya's mouth thins. "And he sent copies to every donor on your grant list."
