I furiously sign the tab, leaving a huge tip for Janie. I don’t know how that woman puts up with this guy’s antics. Taking one last slug from my wine glass, I pause and look at him with regret.
Everything George told me is true. Kip is a bully, pure and simple. I know his type and his intentions. I’ve seen it time and time again during my career with some of my cohorts. He’ll do anything to get his greedy hands on whatever he wants. And I know he wants Jamison Farm for his own, even if it means tricking George into signing it over to him.
Over my dead body.
“Please stay,” he says, his expression contorting like a sad puppy.
“Sorry, Kip.” My tone is all business, devoid of any emotion.
“Men like you who take advantage of others aren’t my type.” I start to walk away, and he follows me.
“What? Why would you say such a thing?”
I stop and look him in the eye.
“Was it the truck comment? Because you have to know I was just kidding,” he laughs nervously. “I thought we were having a good time.”
“On the contrary, Kip. I don’t know you very well. But from our brief time together, I know all I need.”
He seems genuinely confused, his demeanor turning agitated. “Well, tell me. What is it you think you know about me, Miss… Miss High and Mighty?”
I laugh and forge ahead, my words coming out in a hot burst of fury. “You have some kind of complex, Kip. You compensate for the lack of your own farm by being overly aggressive and domineering with those you work with. The Jamison farm willneverbe rightfully yours. But you’ll do almost anything to get it, won’t you? Well, you know what?Shameon you.”
The look on Kip’s face is priceless when he realizes he’s made a grave mistake confiding in me.
“You have grandiose plans and ambitions, which come at a remarkable cost to an innocent man. Frankly, you are despicable. You want your own farm? Go out and get one the right way. Leave the Jamison family alone!”
My loud voice causes a few heads to turn. Kip notices and plays it off like a douche, chuckling unconvincingly.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. And you should’ve told me you were friends with the Jamisons. You’re the despicable one.” He turns his back on me and bellies up to the bar, chugging half his full beer.
Gritting my teeth, I stomp out of the bar.
I have work to do.
Chapter Fourteen
George
I lay out a stunning variety of flowers across a sheet of parchment paper on my kitchen counter. I’m intentional with my choices, knowing Madison seems to appreciate all hues of violet. I want to make her a special arrangement for her hotel room, especially after she told me she’s staying in town for the rest of the week.
I trim the lower leaves off the stalks of bellflower and purple aster before I pause and take in a deep whiff of mint I harvested. The whorls of flowers open in a cluster at the top of the plant, the aromatic leaves reminding me of the minty sun tea my grandmother used to make. She used to place a large jar beneath the full noon-day sun on the front porch steps to let it steep for hours.
I continue to trim the prickly spindles of a stalk of boneset and marvel at the tall spikes of delphinium petals. Filling a pitcher with fresh water, I arrange the flowers until I’m satisfied with the feast of purple, violet, and lavender colors.
Frankie circles my ankles and meows as if asking me the same question currently running through my mind.
“I don’t know when I’ll see her again, Frankie.” I kneel and run a hand across her speckled back, making her arch with pleasure. “But I sure hope it’s soon. Maybe when I drop this off at her hotel?”
There’s a knock at the back door, and I freeze. Did I just manifest Madison again on the fly?
“It’s me, George.”
My grandfather’s voice makes me flinch with disappointment, but only briefly. I adore Pop and would do anything for him.
“Come on in.”
With my back turned, I can hear the old man’s boots clomp across the worn linoleum in a slow stride as I clean up the mess of discarded leaves and stems on the counter.
