Page 32

SAWYER

At this point, I feel like if my lab results could tell me to fuck off, they would.

Still, the math isn’t mathing, as Anton likes to put it. Because everything—and I do mean everything—tells me that my results should be different. Every model I’ve run. Every calculation I’ve made. Absolutely everything.

Yet here I am, weeks into this, and it’s still the same. Is it better than what it was when I arrived? Sure. But better still isn’t good enough. Isn’t where I said it would be. And failure is not an option.

Not when Lead Research and Development Manager is on the line.

And the future success of crop soil across the state.

I need to figure out where I went wrong.

Throwing myself back in my chair, I heave out a heavy sigh, the weight of all of it more than enough to roll me backward.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Cary comments.

“I won’t…” I huff out a breath, like a dragon breathing fire, as I wildly gesture toward the monitor .

Anton rolls over in his chair, the plastic wheels scratching against the tile floor like nails on a chalkboard, my nerves already fraying. His hand lands on my knee, squeezing, the warmth and comfort from his touch helping to soothe the irritation flowing through me.

“Wanna talk it through?”

I look at him, still annoyed but less so, hoping that I don’t look like a lost puppy.

“It’s generally accepted that it’s easier to disprove a hypothesis than to prove it, because a single piece of contradictory evidence can essentially refute the whole thing.

All swans are white —at least until you see a black swan. ”

“Riiiight…”

He drags out the word, his deep drawl rumbling through me and making me want to curl up in his lap, as he nods along to let me know he’s paying attention. As if those striking blue eyes staring back at me didn’t give it away.

“And that’s my problem.”

“That you’re disproving it?”

“No.” I shake my head. “But I’m not proving it either. My numbers are only partially lining up.”

“What happened to outperforming more rapidly than expected?”

“We were…until we weren’t.”

I point at the screen, talking him through each part of the result. Showing him exactly where each number came from and how I’ve been measuring and making my calculations. What all my models show it should be.

“Something is off in your data set; there’s no denying that,” he says, leaning back and lacing his hands behind his head. His shirt lifts slightly, enough to show off a sliver of his untanned belly, making me want to poke him. “Question is what. And all your samples are from the same grove?”

I nod, holding back a silly, smitten grin.

This is the Anton I think I’ve fallen for the hardest. The nerdy science guy.

Don’t get me wrong—every part of him is unique and special, even the Mr. Too good-looking for his own good fruit-stand guy part.

But the science guy is the one who has absolutely stolen my heart.

“Hmmm…”

“What are you thinking?” I ask.

I can see the wheels turning in his head, and wish I had some sort of trick to pull the information out. There’s a lot of it up there. Anton has a strange, vast knowledge base, which makes me think that once he gets the gears going, there might be a chance the answer lies in there.

“That I still only know enough about soil to not fuck up my crops. But, if you’d like to talk about freestone peach cultivars, then I’m your man.”

You’re my man, regardless…

I throw my head back, letting out a laugh that resembles that of a fourteen-year-old girl standing in the hallway talking to her crush. Which is about what I feel like.

“As sexy as that sounds, I do have to figure this out. I’m kinda on a deadline.”

“What’s the rush?”

“Well, I was hoping to have complete, somewhat proven results to submit with my application. Which is due Friday.”

Anton’s eyes go wide, like I just smacked him across the face and insulted his mother. This isn’t news to him. Or, at least it shouldn’t be. We’ve talked about me wanting this job numerous times. About him writing the letter of recommendation. That’s his part of the deal. He promised.

“That’s this week?” He swallows hard. “Already?”

I nod. How could he have forgotten?

“Yes. Willa’s wedding is next week!”

“Right. I knew that.”

Given both the look on his face and the sound of his voice, I’m not so sure he did. Which doesn’t leave me feeling very confident.

“Don’t forget the letter,” I say, my voice lowered so that only he can hear.

Not that it would really matter. The only other person in here is Cary, who I highly doubt is listening to our conversation anyway.

Even if he is, he probably already knows about the arrangement.

Anton and Cary have been best friends since they were little kids and tell each other everything.

I have to assume that includes the fact that our fling has strings attached to it.

Hell, that’s probably why we did the double date thing—Cary helping us out to try and sell the public image.

“I won’t. Promise.”

Anton squeezes my knee again and I relax, trusting him.

If he says he will, he will. He’s been nothing short of amazing in every other aspect, so I have no reason to believe he won’t deliver on this too.

Truthfully, it not being on the top of his to-do list is also understandable, since he has been in the middle of dealing with the worst peach season in more than seventy years.

Turning back to my computer, I scroll the results again. “I hate to say this, but I think I need to take more samples.”

“Then take more samples. Pick a different grove, whatever.” Anton shrugs. “You have free rein to do what you need to. We agreed to that when you came here. Do what you need to in order to figure all this out and help Hayes and other farms along the way.”

His phone beeps and he pushes away, launching himself backward toward the device on his desk. I laugh, watching him sail across the room, the wheels on the tiles much less annoying this time around.

“Shit, payroll and budget meeting,” he curses. “I think I’d rather pull my fingernails out. ”

“Just tell them you’re giving me a raise,” Cary comments.

“After our lack of peaches this summer, I’m gonna be lucky if Gus lets us keep our jobs.”

What?!

I look up, turning to him, my heart stopping. He’s kidding, right?

Anton rushes over to me, dipping down and stealing a kiss. “I mean it—free rein, Sawyer. You need more samples, go take them. Do whatever you need to do. I’ll see you tonight at Magnolia Manor for dinner with Auggie and Miss Belle.”

The lab door slams behind him, the splintering sound of silence taking over. Swiveling in my chair, I turn to look at Cary, who is reading something on his phone.

“He was joking about y’all being lucky if Gus lets you keep your jobs, right?

” I ask, trying to keep the worry out of my voice.

It’s a weird thing to be so concerned about, especially since I’m not saying here, but for some reason I’m oddly invested in making sure that one bad peach season isn’t going to be the end of the road for these guys. I’ve become very attached to them.

“Absolutely,” Cary answers without looking up.

“Gus will bitch and moan about the numbers from this season, but there’s nothing to be done about it.

Mother Nature gave us the finger and that’s that.

We kept our costs down as much as we could while still putting out as much product as we could.

Welcome to life with crop farms—good years are good, but bad years, they hit you hard.

And you have to count on having more of the good ones to help get you through the bad ones. ”

“Makes sense.”

“I know you’ve heard us say it before, but it’s not companies like Hayes that need to worry. It’s the little guys. As much as Anton worries about the families we support as a company, he cares about the other farmers in the area too. We’re all a team.”

“I know you are,” I say, my heart feeling the weight of it.

That was something I learned early on working for the department of agriculture.

The farming community is not one of competition, but cooperation.

Sure, there are pockets of people in every group that don’t get on, but for the most part, these folks band together and do what they need to in order to help each other out.

That was part of what made staying with this job and wanting to grow in it so easy. Wanting to be able to help.

“If I could only make this work,” I continue. “It won’t be an overnight answer, but long term, it has the potential to really be a solution. I think. Everything was so promising last week, and now…”

Fuck if I know why. Not something that bodes well for a research and development manager.

I scan through everything again, running through the steps in my mind for what has to be the millionth time. I know this like the back of my hand at this point. I could recite it in my sleep. I followed my models exactly; nothing was different.

Except…

I sit up straight, my brain going haywire like a bolt of lightning struck me out of nowhere. There is one small thing that was different. Actually, maybe not all that small. Something that could have been enough to make my numbers jump initially and then come to a slamming halt.

“Ohhhhhhhh…”

“Figure it out?”

I bite down on my lip, turning to the tall, dark horticulturalist, “Maybe?”

“But? ”

How he knows there’s a but coming, I don’t know. There is though.

“ Buuuut , I would definitely need to go back out into the groves.”

Cary shrugs, lifting his shoulders like what I said was no big deal. “Out you go then.”

“I dunno. I…if I’m right, I would need lots more samples.”

“Then take lots of samples.”

“And I might need to do something…drastic.”

I let that last part hang in the air, trying not to be dramatic. Even though that’s exactly how this feels. Looking back at my computer, it seems so obvious now. And the only way to show it would be to…no, I can’t. Because I’m pretty sure it’s a no-go.

“Then do it.”

Still, hesitation rushes through me like the bulls through the streets of Pamplona, knocking down everything in its wake.

“Even if it means digging things up and making a mess and?—”

“Sawyer, you heard the man. You have free rein. To borrow words from Nike and Yoda, just do it,” Cary tells me.

I pause, opening my mouth to correct him and then stop myself. Because that is not at all how the Yoda quote goes. That is firmly Nike’s slogan. Yoda was do or do not . But now is not the moment to show off my Frank Oz and Muppet trivia knowledge. The more important part is that Cary has a point.

Free rein.

Anton absolutely did say that. Do what you need to in order to figure all this out and help Hayes and other farms along the way . Those were his exact words. Which means, if I need to do something drastic, I need to. The results matter more .

I’ll be careful. It’s not like I’m going to burn it all down to the ground. Not even close. And I have permission.

“Right,” I say out loud, still trying to convince myself.

Pushing to my feet, I gather everything I need. What I’m about to do might be a little bit crazy—okay, it’s a lot crazy—but I also think it holds the answer.

And if I’ve learned anything over the last few weeks, it’s that the risk is worth taking.

Anton is worth the risk.