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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

OLIVIA

The delicate citrus flavors of Rosedale Estate’s prized Riesling swept over my taste buds as I gazed at the rolling hills covered in rows of vines. Prue had given us a tour of the event space and the vineyard and then secured us a prime table on the patio of her restaurant. My eyes flickered across the white tablecloth, dominated by two large pizzas and a bowl of arugula salad, to Roz. She leaned back, her arms resting on the sides of her chair, looking out over the vista. Her blond hair was slightly tousled from the bike helmet, but it suited her. It gave her a rakish look. My eyes dropped to the curves of Roz’s Lycra-clad upper body. The milk appeared to have dried now, leaving off-white stains and a faintly sweet scent.

Roz shifted her gaze to me. “Well, should we get down to business?”

I blinked. “Business?”

“The whole point of this little adventure was to get to know each other. I’ve prepared a list of questions for us to run through.” Roz pulled a leather Moleskine notebook and pen out of her backpack.

I crossed my arms. “Can’t we just have a casual chat and learn about each other organically? I mean, I feel like I’ve already learned a lot about you this weekend.”

Roz narrowed her eyes. “Such as?”

“Your sneeze would cause an avalanche. You are highly competitive, stubborn as hell and assume the worst of people.” I ticked them off on my fingers as I spoke. You have Catwoman’s body but not her grace or agility. “But you also adore your niece, are intent on making Red Tractor Farm a success, and while you’re rude to them, you also care enough about your employees that you don’t want to fire them.”

Roz leaned over and helped herself to a slice of pizza. “While all of those things you listed off may be aspects of my personality, you need to learn some other basic things about me that a girlfriend would know. Which is why I have prepared this list.” Roz snapped open her notebook.

“Fine,” I said. “Hand it over.”

Roz placed the leather notebook in front of me.

I wiped my hands on my napkin and scanned the list. Ugh . This reminded me of a more boring version of the dating profile I still hadn’t completed. Roz was intriguing, there was no doubt about it, and I had a number of questions I wanted to ask her, but they were not on this list.

It also reminded me of something else. I chuckled. “Did you hear about that study that theorized that if two people asked each other a list of questions and then stared into each other’s eyes, they’d fall in love?”

Roz shook her head. “That’s ridiculous.”

A warm breeze sent a few strands of hair dancing across my face. I brushed them aside. “Someone wrote a New York Times ‘Modern Love’ article about it. It sounded legit.” I grinned. “Are you sure you want to keep going with the list?”

“Yes.” Roz reached out her hand. “Give me back my notebook.”

“I can read,” I replied, waving her away. “But if you’re madly in love with me at the end of this session, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Roz settled into her chair. I was confident the list of questions in the study had been a lot more interesting than Age?, Family? and Education? , but I enjoyed teasing Roz too much to let that stop me. I took a bite of the capricciosa pizza, my eyes closing as my teeth sunk into the delicious combination of wood-fired sourdough pizza base, tomato, ham, mushrooms, and a generous topping of mozzarella cheese. Damn .

Roz’s gaze darted to my lips and then away again. I swallowed. Did I have cheese hanging out of my mouth or something? I dabbed my mouth with my napkin.

“Hurry up. We don’t have all day.” Roz picked up her wine glass and took a long sip.

I swiped my tongue along my front teeth to ensure they weren’t covered in food before I spoke. “Okay. Question one. How old are you?

“Forty-two. You?”

“Thirty-one.” I raised my eyebrows. “So we have quite an age gap then. Does that bother you?”

Roz narrowed her eyes. “Am I bothered by the age gap in our fake relationship?”

Someone cleared their throat. I looked up to see Prue beaming at us. Oh god. I hope she didn’t overhear us. “Hi ladies! I thought I’d bring over two complimentary wine flights as a Welcome to Sapphire Springs gift for Roz.”

My eyes dropped to the tray she was holding and widened. Was that all for us? Prue placed six glasses in front of each of us. “And here are the tasting notes.” She handed us a piece of paper. Damn, I loved Prue. Being a Black woman in an overwhelmingly white, male industry couldn’t have been easy, but she seemed to take it in stride. Not only were her wines incredible, but her restaurant made some of the best food in the area and she played a key role in the local farming community.

“Thank you. That’s very generous,” Roz said, gazing at the row of glasses in front of her.

“And very generous pours too,” I said, picking up a glass of sparkling and sniffing it. I wasn’t a wine connoisseur, but it smelled amazing—kind of yeasty, but in a good way.

“I told the bartender not to be too stingy. You look like you’ve really settled in over here, so I wanted to make sure you were well hydrated.” Prue dropped the tray to her side.

I was confident wine was not good for hydration, but I appreciated Prue’s intentions. Perhaps the wine would alleviate the dullness of Roz’s questions.

As Prue left, I took a sip of the sparkling. It tasted even better than it smelled.

“Now, where were we?” I stared at the notebook. Did I need to know where Roz was born? Probably not. “Why do you hate flowers and sustainability so much?”

“That’s not on the list.” Roz stabbed some arugula with her fork. “Next question.”

I leaned in. “No, but seriously, I’d like to know.”

Roz watched Prue’s Labrador walk across the lawn and slump down under a tree, and then she sighed. “I don’t hate sustainability. In fact, in my last job I was going to implement a number of changes focused on building up our environmental, social, and governance practices and ensuring our company followed our own advice…” Her hand gripped her fork tightly. “Anyway, I’m not against making sustainability improvements at the farm, but my priority is getting the farm into the black. Which reminds me, did you receive my email last night with the business plan sections I need you to complete?” She shoved the arugula into her mouth.

“Yep,” I replied, still processing Roz’s admission that she’d been a sustainability champion in her past role. She hadn’t explained her hatred for flowers, though. “I’ll work on it tonight.”

“Thank you. Next question.” Roz’s lips closed around the rim of her wine glass. They were soft and full, a red that reminded me of the dogwood blossoms that were just beginning to bloom. Don’t ogle her lips. My eyes dropped to her long, slender fingers, elegantly cradling the glass. Or her fingers.

I dragged my gaze back to the list in front of me. “Family.” Now that could hold some more secrets to Roz’s intriguing personality. “I’ve obviously met yours, but tell me about them. Your mom was a lawyer?”

Roz nodded. “Mom and Dad were partners at a big law firm in Manhattan. They retired a few years ago and moved out here.”

“And Matt?” I asked.

“He’s in construction.”

I sighed. Roz was not exactly forthcoming with information. “Are you guys close?”

“Yes.” Roz picked up a slice of margherita pizza and took a bite.

Good lord. This was like pulling teeth. “If you don’t mind me asking, is Lottie’s mom in the picture?”

Roz nodded. “Yes. Mel is in the army. She’s a helicopter pilot. She’s been deployed for twelve months in the Middle East. When she’s not deployed, she works at West Point.”

“Oh, wow, that must be tough for Lottie and Matt,” I said.

“Yes.” Roz paused, her face softening slightly. “It was a factor in me deciding to move here—so I can support them both while Mel is away. Lottie also adores Red Tractor Farm, so she was thrilled when I bought it.”

Well, that was kind of sweet.

“That’s enough about my family.” Roz lifted her wine glass. “Tell me about yours.”

“Well, you’re riding Blake’s bike. She’s the local doctor and married Jenny last year. My brother Dave lives in New Jersey. He’s an accountant and has six-year-old twins who are also big fans of Red Tractor Farm.” I nibbled on a pizza crust.

Roz’s face broke into a broad smile. For once, it wasn’t tinged with sarcasm. “I’m glad to hear it. And what about your parents?”

“We’re pretty close—I usually see them at least once or twice a week.” I leaned over and piled more salad on my plate. “Mom is a retired schoolteacher. Dad used to work at the local bank and now works at Blake’s medical practice as her receptionist.”

Roz’s eyebrows shot up. “I can’t imagine working with my parents. They’d drive me up the wall. How does she find that?”

I chuckled. Was Roz warming up a little? “Well, he certainly drives Blake up the wall on occasion, but on the whole they love it. Having said that, I’m glad he didn’t try to get a job at Sapphire Blooms.”

“What’s next?” Roz asked, peering over the table at the notebook and attempting to read upside down.

We raced through schooling, before moving onto hobbies and interests. I filled Roz in on my pastimes, from hiking and kayaking to boardgames and candle making. “What about you?”

“The gym. Weights and spin class. Although I haven’t been since I moved here.” Roz stretched out her arms. They still looked pretty toned to me, long and lean but with clear muscle definition.

I dragged my eyes away from her arms. “Ah, spin class. That explains why you couldn’t stop your bike, but you could pedal at a hundred miles an hour. What else?”

Roz frowned at a glass full of a deep burgundy wine in front of her. “I do like a good Broadway musical.”

I chewed on some salad. Was that it? I’d been hoping for something a little more revealing—like a Dungeons and Dragons obsession or a secret passion for Disneyland. An image of Roz wearing Mickey Mouse ears flashed into my mind and I sniggered.

Roz fixed me with a stare. “That’s all. I haven’t had time for anything else. Too busy working.”

I downed the rest of the sparkling and took a sip of the second wine in the flight. I wrinkled my nose. “Hmm, I’m not so sure about this one. It kind of tastes like tires.”

“Tires?” Roz took a sip. “Huh. I see what you mean. I quite like it.” She took another sip.

Of course Roz would like wine that tasted like tires. I looked down at the notebook and paused. Something was missing. “What about relationship history? Any past serious relationships your girlfriend should know about? Ever been married or engaged, left at the altar, that sort of thing?”

Roz clenched her napkin. “That wasn’t on the list. Next question.” She stared out to the middle of the vineyard, where a worker was bent over a vine.

I frowned. Had I hit a nerve?

“You don’t need to share any details with me, of course,” I said. “But if there’s anything a girlfriend would know, it might be a good idea to tell me just in case it comes up while Fred’s around.”

“Nothing recent,” Roz replied. “What about you?”

“Nothing serious.” I took a deep breath. “But you should probably know…” I swallowed, pressing my palms into my lap. “I’ve never dated a woman before.”

Roz’s jaw dropped. “You haven’t?”

My face flamed with heat. “No. It’s taken me a while to work things out, which is ridiculous because my sister is a lesbian and pretty much all my friends are queer.” I gulped down a mouthful of the tire wine and studied a spot of pizza grease on the table cloth.

“That’s not ridiculous,” Roz said.

My head jerked up, and I met Roz’s gaze. Instead of the judgment I’d expected, her eyes were soft. My heart kicked.

“So if you don’t mind me asking, what have you worked out?” Roz asked.

“Um. Well, I know I’m attracted to women.” I’d die before I confessed to Roz that it had been our kiss at Pryde that had confirmed my attraction. My eyes dropped to her lips. Eyes up. “But that’s about as far as I’ve gotten. I haven’t told my friends or family yet.”

Roz’s eyebrows rose. “So they think you’re fake-dating and fake-gaying?”

“Um, yes.” I scratched the back of my neck.

Roz tilted her head, her blue eyes framed by surprisingly dark lashes. “Why haven’t you told them?”

“I wanted to wait until I’d worked out what my sexuality was—whether I’m bi, pan, a lesbian… or something else.”

“You know, you don’t need to put a label on it if you don’t want to,” Roz said. I stared at her. I’d never heard her voice so gentle before. “Or you could just use a general term, like queer. Not that I’m telling you to come out or how to do it. But I thought I’d say it in case that’s what’s holding you back.”

I blinked and exhaled, lightness spreading through my chest. “Thank you. I think all my friends have just been so confident with their sexuality from an early age that I’ve been putting some pressure on myself to choose a label.” No thanks to that dating app, which I’d had to put on hold until our fake dating was over. “But you’re right. Perhaps I don’t need to.” I pushed the tire wine aside and took a sip from the next glass of wine, a chardonnay, savoring the oaky flavor. “Okay, I like this one a lot better.”

Roz lifted the wine glass to her lips and tilted it back, exposing her long neck. “Oh, this one is nice. I might need to buy a bottle.”

Swallowing, I leaned forward. “Did you work out your sexuality early?”

Roz swished the straw-colored wine around in her glass. “Yes. I was twelve when I realized I was a lesbian. Thankfully it wasn’t something I struggled with, and my parents and friends were accepting, so it never felt like a big deal.”

“That’s good.” It would be nice if it was that easy for me.

“But it sounds like it is a big deal for you. If you need someone to talk to about it, as an elder millennial lesbian, I’m happy to be a sounding board.” Her lips curled into a soft smile.

I chuckled. “Thank you. I may take you up on that offer.”

My eyes dropped to Roz’s list of questions. Career history. Ugh . I did not feel like reliving that right now. I skipped to the next question.

“Food dislikes and allergies. Any deadly allergies to nuts, crustaceans or anything else I should know about?” I asked.

“I have a mild pollen allergy. When it gets annoying, I take antihistamines.”

I slammed down my wine glass. “Aha!” I exclaimed. “Is that why you hate flowers?”

“No.” Roz pressed her lips together.

“Oh.” My shoulders slumped. For whatever reason, Roz clearly did not want to discuss it and I didn’t want to push her when it finally felt as though we’d been getting along. “And any foods you hate?”

Roz’s face relaxed. “I may have very recently developed a dislike of dairy, but I hope it’s temporary. It would be very tragic if I was put off triple cream brie and Ben & Jerry’s butter pecan for life.”

I laughed. I liked this lighter, joking version of Roz. “I still think you should try my quark. It really is very good.”

Roz wrinkled her nose. “Are you sure it’s going to be okay by the time we get home? It’s very warm today.”

I glanced over the rows of vines, lit by the strong afternoon sun. “Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I said. “I’ve got a few cooler bars in there.”

Roz took another sip of wine and leaned back in her chair. “What about you? Any dietary restrictions or foods you can’t stand?”

I filled Roz in on my allergy to pineapple and then snapped the notebook shut. “Well, I think we’re done.”

Frowning, Roz reached over and grabbed the notebook. She scanned the page. “You didn’t ask about job history. I know you worked off and on at Red Tractor Farm in your twenties. But when you were “off,” what were you doing?”

I sighed. I didn’t feel like listing all my failures off to a highly successful business woman. “I was pursuing various, um… ventures.”

“What kind of ventures?” Roz asked, her eyes fixed on me.

Heat rose in my cheeks. “Fine.” I took a fortifying gulp of the pinot noir I’d moved on to. “I’ll answer, but if you’ve finished can we walk? I feel like I need to start moving after all that food—unless you want to drink any more of the wine?”

“I’m all good, thanks,” Roz said, surveying the row of half-full glasses. “I want to make sure I get your sister’s bike home in one piece.” She placed her napkin on the table and pushed back her chair.

We walked over to the counter and paid, thanking Prue again for the lovely meal and wine, and then stepped out onto the grassy lawn between the restaurant and the events space.

I filled my lungs with air, exhaling slowly. “You wanted to know about my job history. Some of my greatest hits include worm farms, making biodegradable cardboard coffins, recycling cooking oil, and dog walking.” I dropped my gaze to the ground and braced myself for the laughter and snide remarks.

“Biodegradable coffins?” Roz asked.

I looked over to Roz and blinked. Her head was tilted and she gazed at me with interest rather than mockery.

“They’re very environmentally friendly,” I explained, as we walked toward the vines. “But it turns out there isn’t a huge market for them around here and the local funeral homes were reluctant to sell them.” I kept my voice light, not wanting to let on to Roz just how devastating it had been when it had failed. The cooking oil recycling business had been even worse. An image of me meeting with bank representatives in the city, pleading to give me more time to repay the loan before they repossessed my assets flashed into my head. My chest constricted. Hopefully Roz and I could pull off this fake-dating charade. I couldn’t bear to have another failed venture on my hands.

Roz nodded. “I’m surprised dog walking didn’t take off.”

We reached the vines. I stopped, admiring their gnarled trunks and woody arms twisted around the trellis wire. “It turns out most people in these parts actually like getting outside with their dogs, so demand was low.” I managed a weak smile. At least dog walking required few upfront costs, so when it failed I didn’t need to deal with the debt collectors.

Roz trailed her hand along the trellis wire. “Makes sense. So after all these, um… career mishaps, you eventually decided on floristry?”

I breathed out, my smile widening. Thank god for floristry. “Yes. It’s perfect for me. I get to be creative, be around gorgeous flowers all day, interact with customers and, while I’m by no means saving the world, I am bringing a bit of color to people’s lives in an environmentally sustainable way. It’s just a shame it took me so long to work it out.” My smile faltered. I started walking again, down the row of vines. The buds studding the branches were swelling and starting to break open, new growth unfurling from them. I raised my hand to shield my eyes from the sun, which was surprisingly warm.

“Well, the fact you kept going, until you found something that worked, is… commendable,” Roz said, stepping in time with me. “There’s a reason why there are so many sayings about failure being the steppingstone to success. Most people give up too soon. I worked with a lot of successful businesspeople when I was a management consultant, and that’s one thing they all shared. They didn’t give up.”

I shot Roz a glance to check if she was teasing or not. She looked genuine, her face as soft as someone with incredible cheek bones and startling blue eyes could be. My heart squeezed. I swallowed. Maybe all that dairy has clogged my arteries and is giving me palpitations . “Thank you. That’s nice of you to say. I think most people just think I’m a bit scatterbrained, jumping from one thing to the next, unable to settle down.”

We came to the end of the vines and stopped at a strip of wildflowers Prue had planted to attract bees. I bent down, gently lifting up a Virginia bluebell and inspecting it. They really were a striking color.

I stood, brushing my hands down my dress. “What about you? Did you always want to be a... was it a management consultant? And agritainment farm owner?”

Roz snorted. “Management consultant, yes. Farmer, no.”

I tilted my head. “Why did you want to be a management consultant?”

“I was good at problem solving, had strong analytical skills and enjoyed learning new things. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer, but I wanted to do something different from them, prove I could make it without their help.” Roz pursed her lips. “Well, I think that’s the last of the questions.”

“Just one more.” I grinned at her. “Are you in love with me yet?” I cringed after the words left my mouth. It was a joke, but it had come out a lot more flirtatious than intended.

“No, but perhaps we haven’t stared into each other’s eyes for long enough,” Roz deadpanned. “Do you want to give it a go?”

Her gaze held mine and my stomach flip-flopped. Was there tension in the air between us, or was it all in my head?

An engine revved in the distance. I steadied myself and forced a casual grin onto my face. “I think I’ll pass.” I turned on my feet. “We should probably get moving.”

When we reached the bikes, I sniffed the air. What was that smell? Could it be Roz? The smell got stronger as I approached my bike.

“Oh no!” I exclaimed as I peered into my cooler bag in the front basket and wrinkled my nose. “I don’t think my quark is okay. The cooler packs have melted and it smells kind of rancid.” We’d talked a lot longer than I’d expected.

The blood drained from Roz’s face and she clutched her stomach. “Oh god, please don’t talk to me about rancid cheese. I don’t think I can handle it.”

I sighed and resealed the cooler bag. No quark on my granola tomorrow morning. “I’ll deal with it later. We better get a move on. I’m supposed to go over to my parents’ house for dinner.”

As we cycled back to Sapphire Springs, I replayed the events of the day in my mind. It had been a surprisingly enjoyable excursion. I was shocked just how much I’d liked the glimpses of Roz I’d seen under her terse exterior. When she let down her walls, she was funny and easy to talk to, and far less critical than I expected.

My eyes lingered on her Lycra-clad body ten feet ahead of mine. I frowned. I shouldn’t be checking her out. Our fake-dating arrangement was complicated enough. She doesn’t date. She doesn’t even like me. And once this is over, I needed to focus on finding someone to settle down with. Don’t forget that ticking clock.

As I stared at Roz, my bike bounced over a rock I hadn’t seen and skidded. I clutched the handlebars, managing to wrest back control of the bike before it fell. Pay attention, Olivia. The last thing I needed was to crash my bike and break an arm or a hand. I couldn’t afford any injuries or other distractions impeding my ability to do my job, especially not with the busy spring and summer wedding season approaching and the high-profile wedding I had coming up in the next few weeks. I needed to knuckle down and focus. I pedaled harder to overtake Roz so I didn’t have to look at her perfect butt anymore, breathing out as I shot past her. There. Out of sight, out of mind. But was it really that simple? My feelings toward Roz felt… complicated. And she was most definitely a distraction. It was probably best if I avoided her as much as our fake dating arrangement would allow. No more long lunches and bike rides.

As we pushed the bikes into Blake’s yard, her door opened and Blake appeared on her doorstep.

“Hi, I’m Blake, Olivia’s sister,” she said, a hint of wariness in her tone.

Roz carefully leaned Blake’s bike against the fence, wiped her hands on her top and then held one out to shake. “I’m Roz. Thanks for lending me your bike. Apologies if I smell. I managed to spill milk all over myself earlier today.”

Blake raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t ask,” I said, grinning. “The smell could also be my quark, which I left in the sun.”

Blake grimaced. “Okay, please don’t eat that Liv.”

“I’m not going to!” I replied indignantly. I might have been Blake’s “little” sister, but I was also a fully grown woman who knew eating rancid cheese was a terrible idea.

“Good.” Blake turned to Roz, a calculating look in her eyes. “So I heard that you were a management consultant in New York before you moved out here?”

I frowned. Where was Blake going with this?

“Yes. That’s right,” Roz said.

“Do you know much about economics?”

Oh no. I thought I knew where this was going. I glared at Blake.

“Yes,” Roz said. “I majored in economics and have an MBA.”

Blake’s face lit up. “What are you doing Thursday night?”

I sighed. So much for avoiding Roz as much as possible.