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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

OLIVIA

“Liv!” George waved at me from a wooden table lit by dappled sunshine under a towering oak tree at the back of the Builders Arms’ beer garden. Clutching a glass of rosé, I weaved through groups of day drinkers until I reached my friends.

“Sorry I’m late.” I flopped down onto the seat next to Hannah.

Blake turned to me. “I was just saying that if we’re going to beat The Gran Masters on Thursday night, we’ll have to work on our economics and sports knowledge. We could each choose a sport to read up on—or economics if you’d prefer.”

I stared at my sister. “I don’t really have time at the moment, sorry.” I already had enough homework from Roz. Blake’s face dropped and I bit my lip. “Perhaps we could find someone who already knows about that stuff?”

Blake creased her forehead. “I can’t think of anyone.”

Hannah put her cider on the table. “I’m in procrastination mode at the moment with my book, so I can take a sport. Maybe hockey?”

“I can take baseball,” George added, smiling at Hannah and squeezing her hand. God, they were cute.

Blake grinned. “That sounds great. I can pick up football and I’ll text Dana and see if she’s interested in researching golf or economics.” Blake turned to me. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes. It’s just the new owner of Red Tractor Farm is creating quite a bit of work for me.” I closed my eyes for a moment and took a sip of wine.

George peered around Hannah, her face soft with sympathy. “From what I’ve heard at Novel Gossip, she’s been rubbing everyone the wrong way. Dana is ready to quit, the kitchen staff at the farm café are furious that she wants to reduce the menu for cost-cutting purposes, and she apparently made one of the teens who works at the petting zoo cry.”

“Oh my god, what happened?” I twisted to stare at George.

“He accidentally let the baby goats out of the yard?—”

I clutched the stem of my wine glass. “Roz wasn’t driving a tractor was she?” After hearing about Roz’s run in with her car, I had serious concerns about anyone or anything getting close to her in a tractor.

“What? No.” George’s brow furrowed. “They didn’t get very far, but apparently she snapped at the kid who did it—something about him not being the GOAT of petting zoo employees and telling him if it happened again he’d be fired.”

I snorted, my shoulders relaxing. That sounded like Roz. She didn’t strike me as the person who would suffer fools lightly. I imagined her pairing her cutting words with a withering glare. Poor kid.

The smell of fries wafted over from a neighboring table and my stomach rumbled.

“So how did it go confronting her yesterday?” George asked. “The way you stormed off I expected we’d hear she’d been murdered or, at the very least, get some updates in our group chat, but this Roslyn woman is alive enough to make more enemies and you’ve been radio silent.”

“Yes. Well, there have been some developments.” I took a gulp of wine.

“Did you convince her not to destroy the flower farm?” Jenny asked.

“Well, sort of. We came to an understanding.” I swirled my wine glass, creating a whirlpool which reflected the current state of my stomach. I was not looking forward to this conversation.

“What kind of understanding?” Blake glanced over to the other corner of the beer garden, where a group of men in their twenties were laughing raucously, before refocusing her gaze on me.

I shifted uncomfortably on the bench. “I’m helping her with some things, and in exchange she’s going to keep the flower farm going.”

“Olivia, you’re being very vague right now. What’s going on?” Blake’s frown deepened.

“Yeah, you’re sounding really shady,” Jenny chimed in. “Have the two of you conspired to grow weed on her farm or something? Is this a Breaking Bad or Weeds type of situation? Please don’t get arrested, Liv.”

“No!” I exclaimed, nudging Jenny on her shoulder.

“What, then?” Blake leaned in.

“Well…” I swallowed. “I may have agreed to be her fake girlfriend in return for saving the flowers.” I winced.

My friends stared at me, wide-eyed.

“What the hell, Olivia? What do you mean?” Blake ran her hand through her short hair. “Like an escort?”

I recoiled. “God, no! We’re pretending to date to help get an investor for the farm. There’s nothing physical involved.” Except for when my lips brushed Roz’s warm cheek earlier today. I pushed the memory away, trying not to blush.

“Hang on a second.” George tilted her head, the dappled sun lighting her brown crew cut. “How did you go from wanting to strangle her yesterday to fake dating her?”

Hannah crossed her arms and leaned in. “Okay, you have to tell us all from the start.”

Four pairs of eyes gazed at me expectantly.

I took a deep breath. “When I went to confront her, her mom was there. She assumed we were dating for some reason and then a potential investor showed up. I realized that if I went along with the dating story, I might be able to influence him to keep the flower farm. So I kind of pretended she was my girlfriend.”

“Oh my god, Olivia!” Jenny screamed, attracting stares from the nearby patrons.

I groaned and covered my face with my hands. “I know, I know. I just really didn’t want the flowers to be destroyed and Sapphire Blooms to go under.”

“So then she just went along with it?” Hannah asked, looking at me with fascination. Was my ridiculous plight going to end up in her next book?

A tiny leaf in my wine glass caught my eye. I dipped my finger in and fished it out, flicking it onto the ground. “Yes. And now it’s a little tricky to extricate myself without jeopardizing the investment, so I’ll have to keep it up until the money comes through. It should only be a couple of weeks.” I didn’t want to consider what would happen if Fred decided not to invest.

“Only? I hope you can last that long with Cruella de Farm.” George grimaced.

“Yeah, she’s not making it easy.” Like ordering me to complete her business plan as if I was one of her employees.I kicked the brick paving under the bench.

“And you’re okay pretending to be queer?” Blake asked.

My heart rate increased. Shit . I should have expected that fake dating a woman would raise questions about my sexuality.

George gave Blake a nudge.

“Sweet potato fries?” Dan asked from behind me.

Blake’s gaze shifted to him, and I exhaled. Thank god.

“Yes, thanks,” George said. “We’re sharing them. Anywhere is good.”

Once Dan left, I picked up a fry. “So about the whole fake-dating thing, can you guys please not tell anyone? We don’t want it getting back to the investor that it’s all a ruse. I’ll tell Mom and Dad but will swear them to secrecy too.”

“Yes, of course,” Jenny said.

Hannah and George murmured in agreement. Blake was noticeably silent, staring at me instead. I ignored her and grabbed another fry. “Thanks. Oh, and Jenny, I need your help.” I popped the fry, still piping hot, into my mouth, savoring the rich flavor.

“Help?” Jenny put down her drink.“With what?”

“Roz wants to build a function space and taphouse at Red Tractor Farm and the investor asked for more information about her ‘competition.’” I rolled my eyes. “I said I’d come up with a list of venues of a similar size nearby she could visit.”

Jenny’s face brightened. “Oh, awesome! What capacity is she thinking?”

“Two hundred people.” My hand bumped against George’s as we both reached into the bowl of fries at the same time. “Sorry George.”

“If she can make it even bigger, say two hundred fifty or three hundred, that would be best. We’re really lacking spaces that can accommodate that many people around here, and there’s definitely demand for it.” Jenny’s eyes sparkled.

“That’s good to know,” I replied, filing the information away to report back to Roz later.

Jenny tilted her head. “In terms of similar event spaces, I’d look at Lawson Grove Dairy and Rosedale Estate. And for the taphouse, Terry’s Apple Orchards.”

“Okay, great. Those are the ones I was thinking of too. Do you have any idea how many customers you’re turning away because the event spaces are too small?” I suspected Roz would like firm numbers for her business plan.

My sister-in-law chewed on her lip for a moment. “Off the top of my head, no. But I can take a look tomorrow if that would be helpful? We do keep records of all the inquiries we get.”

“That would be amazing.” I leaned back, taking a sip of rosé. How would tomorrow go? I didn’t fancy being driven around by Roz in that gas-guzzling old truck she’d used for the farm tour the other day, especially after learning about her questionable driving skills. A thought struck me. Gorgeous weather was forecast tomorrow, and the venues Jenny had suggested were all relatively close together.

I pulled out my phone and shot off a text to Roz.

Do you have a bike?

My phone buzzed before I’d pushed it all the way back into my pocket.

No. Why?

I turned to Blake. “Hey, could Roz borrow your bike tomorrow?”

She eyed me for a moment and then nodded. “Sure.”

“Awesome. Thanks.”

Let’s meet at my sister’s house instead. You can borrow her bike. 23 Apple Blossom Way. Everything is within cycling distance.

I’d prefer to drive.

I frowned. If things went badly, it would be best if I could just cycle away rather than being reliant on Roz for a lift home.

Cycling between the venues is very popular with tourists and locals. For research purposes, it’s important you experience it.

Three dots pulsed on my phone screen. When the text finally came through, it was short.

Fine.

I grinned at Blake. “It’s all sorted. We’re meeting outside your house tomorrow at ten a.m.”

“Hmm. I’m not sure how I feel about being an accessory to this,” Blake said, rubbing her arm.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Dan delivered a plate of nachos to the table next to me. Damn, they smelled good. If we were going to stay much longer, I’d order some to share.

“Going on a bar crawl with the fake girlfriend you dislike doesn’t sound like a terrible idea at all. What could possibly go wrong?” Blake arched an eyebrow.

“It’s not a bar crawl. It’s all for research. Don’t worry, we’re not going to drink irresponsibly and total your bike.” At least, I didn’t think so. Probably best not to mention Roz’s recent run-in with the tractor in case Blake retracted her offer.