Page 8 of Let’s Give ‘Em Pumpkin to Talk About

Josh dropped his brush and spattered orange paint everywhere.

Luckily, the garage floor had a drop cloth protecting it, but small dots landed on both of them.

Sadie’s black jeans were well-worn, repaired many times over with patches of geometric sashiko embroidery, making them look more precious than they were.

Josh’s eyes bulged at their new paint splatter.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry,” he gushed.

He had no way of knowing her reaction to the pumpkin destruction was outsize in comparison to her generally more low-key disgruntled demeanor.

She had a temper, but she was nowhere near losing it.

“It’s nothing,” Sadie assured him. “It’s like being back in art school.

A little paint spatter never caused me any harm.

” She needed to designate some pieces from her all-black wardrobe as “work clothes” anyway, and this sped up that process.

“What did Stu tell you?” Josh asked, scrubbing his hair nervously. “I assume it was him.”

“I wasn’t going to agree to spend time in your pumpkin patch or attend this meeting unless I had assurances that you’re a decent guy.”

“And he vouched for me?”

Sadie considered this. Stu spoke so fondly of Josh. She wasn’t going to provide him that kind of ammunition. “I don’t consider any billionaires decent people, for what that’s worth.”

Josh honked out a great laugh. “Neither do I. That’s why I’m not one.”

Sadie sighed in exasperation at her father, mingled with a little relief.

Did it ease her mind to know Josh wasn’t as unscrupulous as a garden-variety Silicon Valley billionaire?

Yes. Did it make it harder to ignore his kind eyes and the way his lean muscles flexed as he painted?

Yes, but she refused to interrogate that any further.

“The Fox family isn’t known for their mathematical prowess.

I told him that millions and billions were very different numbers. ”

“So you do believe that I’m a millionaire?”

Although her father had no reason to lie, it was also possible Josh had misrepresented himself.

Plenty of people loved to talk a big talk and appear wealthier than they were.

If anything, Josh was underplaying it. Driving a junker, picking Pea Blossom of all places to live.

It didn’t add up yet. Maybe he was lying low and posing as a humble guy before self-funding a run for the US Senate, or buying the whole town and turning it into a fracking operation.

Sadie could imagine a million scenarios, each grimmer than the last, and it made her oddly protective of Stu and the other residents of Pea Blossom.

They weren’t saints, but they also didn’t deserve a carpetbagger coming in to exploit them.

“It doesn’t matter what I believe , does it?”

Josh painted a thick circle of paint around where the cable entered the ball itself.

She observed his hands again, one holding the cable steady and the other painting.

Nails scrubbed clean, no watch or ring. She felt her cheeks heat with a blush.

What was she doing studying him like this?

The hands she was attracted to were usually attached to people who’d rather die than move to the Valley, let alone move to Indiana.

“I did make some money selling software and intellectual property. Enough to buy my farm outright, but honestly not much more than that. I wanted out of that whole game.”

“That makes sense. No one dreams of working sixteen-hour days until they collapse in an ergonomic chair. Do you feel like you have more purpose now than you did then?”

Josh considered the question for a second. “Not more purpose, necessarily, but a different purpose. Growing squash provides me with a new set of challenges and opportunities, and that’s what I was looking for.”

That answer sounded a little job interview-y, which made her wonder if, like her, he was feeling adrift. Or if he was forcing something.

“Is there anything you miss about working in software?” she asked.

“I made some good friends, like you do at any job. But I still get to be a problem solver in this new line of work, and that’s what’s important.”

“Good for you. I know that sounds sarcastic, but I mean it. You’re not greedy as most people would be in your circumstances.”

Maybe Sadie was a little jealous. Her beige silk commission was a real windfall by her standards, but the kind that meant she could probably move into an apartment with a separate room dedicated to her loom.

Not the kind that meant kissing the working world goodbye and finally making less commercial projects, like her immersive installation pieces.

In those pieces visitors, wearing booties over their shoes like surgeons, entered a room completely draped with hand-dyed, handwoven textiles.

Lit from behind, the textiles glowed with colors that perfectly matched the titles of her works.

She evoked sensations like Library Nap , Tumbling Down a Grassy Hill , Late-Night Cab Ride , Last Leaf , even Airport Bathroom .

No experience was too quotidian to capture with her meticulously rendered colors.

Given that textiles were a niche field of fine art, Sadie played it smart.

The installations were very Instagrammable, and her ploy worked.

What came next, unexpectedly, was the request to perfectly capture the shade of influencer Brynn Bianchini’s tanned ass cheeks in her favorite nude selfie.

If anyone in the world had stared at Brynn Bianchini more than the woman herself, it was Sadie.

So she had something in common with Josh, capitalizing on her intellectual property in a way.

“You know what software and pumpkins have in common?” Josh asked.

“What?”

“Bugs.”

Josh smiled at Sadie over the paint ball’s horizon.

It was the kind of smile that made people give you millions of dollars. Sadie didn’t have millions of dollars, but when she smiled back, she felt herself giving him something. And it felt…good.

Then she reminded herself that if he was being nice, he probably wanted something from her.

If anything, she was going to be taking advantage of Josh. She had returned to Pea Blossom hoping for a shot at glory with pumpkin growing. To make her father proud. Even if the pumpkin was no longer her father’s, and the accolades would be mostly hers if she won.

She didn’t like sharing. Neither did her father. But Josh apparently did, and she was grateful for it.

Forget small talk. She was ready to talk shop. “So we need to establish some ground rules for which pumpkin I’m choosing and how we can make sure I’m solely responsible for it from here on out.”

“We could do that, or we could finish this painting, get the photos with Bob, and go back to the Prairie Homestead Diner to celebrate victory.”

“Victory?” Sadie asked. “Getting the Growers Guild to agree to this scheme is hardly a victory. I get the sense people like to pave the way for you.”

“That may well be true, but the result is a good turn of events for you. You get to grow a giant pumpkin in beautiful Pea Blossom. I can hardly imagine a better prize.”

At the moment, Sadie couldn’t either. “Only if you’re paying.” Then she hastily added, “But it’s not a date.”

“Wouldn’t dream of making any assumptions. Can I ask, though, if you date men?”

He was probably playing matchmaker for some lovelorn Tractor Supply employee who mentioned he liked women with big asses. Not interested. Sadie didn’t so much like people as suffer her own attraction to them. “I have been known to date men, yes.”

Josh bent to paint the underside of the pumpkin, hiding his face from Sadie’s view.

She could still hear the smile in his voice.

“We could head directly home if you prefer. I’d let you pick the plant right away, but it’ll be getting dark and you’ll be better off choosing tomorrow when you can get a good look at everything in fresh light. ”

“We ought to eat something so we’re not starving by the time we get home,” Sadie said.

“It’s only practical.”

“I’ll choose a pumpkin tomorrow. The sooner I can reverse whatever damage your methods have done to my prize-winning pumpkin, the better.”