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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

ROZ

I stared blankly at the numbers in front of me, Olivia’s words from yesterday ringing in my ears. Was my pride, and perhaps some lingering subconscious dislike of flowers, clouding my judgment?

But the numbers didn’t lie. Closing down the flower operations was the only hope I had of keeping the farm going through to Christmas. And after that… My chest tightened. Unless there was a miracle, I’d have to put the farm on the market.

Unless I ask my parents for a loan…

I shut my eyes, rubbing my forehead. No, that was off the table. I felt terrible for what it meant for Olivia’s shop, but surely she could find another supplier? While there wasn’t another local farm that grew flowers sustainably, couldn’t she make some compromises, just like I was having to do, to stay afloat? Was importing some flowers from overseas really that bad?

The memory of Olivia’s eyes, wide with disbelief, as I refused to ask my parents for the money, sent a sharp pain shooting into my heart.

Fuck. I needed to talk to someone who’d understand. I picked up my phone.

* * *

“So she thinks I’m being completely unreasonable not asking Mom and Dad for money,” I concluded. “What do you think?”

I leaned against the fence to the petting zoo. The delighted squeals of two toddlers, taking turns to pet a fluffy white rabbit with long floppy ears under one of the farmhand’s watchful eyes, were so loud Matt opened and then closed his mouth.

Once their joy subsided to a slightly lower decibel level, Matt fixed me with a steady gaze. “I get why you’re reluctant, but you’ve spent the last twenty years proving you can achieve amazing things without them. Is it really such a big deal to ask for help this once?”

I clenched my jaw. “But that’s just the thing. I’ve spent twenty years proving I can do it alone. Accepting a loan from them will undo it all.”

The baby goats bounced around their enclosure. Lottie crouched down next to the fence, watching them. They began head-butting each other playfully and Lottie’s face broke into a broad smile. A small glow lit in my chest. This would all be gone if I didn’t get the money from somewhere. The glow vanished.

Matt shook his head. “Asking them for a loan is very different than what happened when we were kids. They were effectively bribing people to let us get ahead. There’s nothing underhanded or illegal about having your parents give you money. And it’s just a loan, for god’s sake. You’ll pay them back.”

I gripped the railing so tightly my knuckles turned white. I didn’t want to ride on the coattails of my parents at all, even if I would eventually repay them. I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of fresh hay mixed with animal manure.

“It’s not just that. You know what they’re like. If they loan me money, they’ll want to be involved in running the farm. There’ll be those raised eyebrows, the ‘helpful suggestions’ and a constant stream of questions about how it’s going. I’ll have them looking over my shoulder twenty-four seven. It will drive me up the wall.”

Matt frowned. “You could try talking to them about that, see if you can come to an agreement on what involvement, if any, they would have.”

I stared at Matt. “Do you really think they’d stick to it?”

He shrugged, his eyes following Lottie as she sprang up and ran over to Ronnie, who was supervising the pony rides. Ronnie looked over to us, his eyebrows raised in question. Matt nodded. Ronnie smiled and handed Lottie a helmet.

“I’m sure there will still be some raised eyebrows and pointed comments, but if they agree upfront they won’t be involved then at least you’ll be able to shut them down by reminding them about the agreement,” Matt said.

Lottie was on a brown pony now, being walked around by Ronnie. She waved to us, grinning from ear to ear, and we waved back. I couldn’t believe she’d be turning eight tomorrow. My heart constricted. Mel hadn’t gotten approval to come back early in time for Lottie’s birthday, so it would just be my parents, Matt and me at her birthday dinner tomorrow night.

“I haven’t seen you this happy for years. Maybe ever. Don’t throw the farm and Olivia away because of your pride, Roz.” Matt’s voice was almost pleading. “I thought you were having a mid-life crisis when you decided to buy the farm, but now it makes total sense to me. You clearly love this place. I’ve never seen you so excited about work before. And the same goes for Olivia as well.”

A heaviness tugged at my chest. “There’s nothing to throw away where Olivia is concerned. We’d agreed it would all end when the investment paperwork came through, which would have been yesterday if Fred hadn’t found out about us.” I shook my head. “It’s over. The whole thing was a mistake. I should never have let myself get so carried away. I can’t even make business decisions clearly because this infatuation with Olivia is clouding my judgment.”

Matt turned to me. “Or the two of you are just madly in love and you care about her so much that you don’t want to do something that will hurt her.”

Love . For some stupid reason, the word sent tears welling in my eyes. I blinked them away, pressing my lips together. Matt was being ridiculous.

But the tears kept coming. A lump formed in my throat. Was it… Could it be possible?

If I did sell the farm, I’d have to move back to New York, find another job as a management consultant and start rebuilding my savings and my 401(k). I might never see Olivia again. Pain stabbed my chest at the thought.

I’d only really known her for six weeks—if you didn’t include that night at Pryde—but in that time, she’d helped me find my footing at the farm, learn to ride a bike again, get a whole new wardrobe, make new friends and business connections, develop a love of rom-coms and plan a spring festival. And not only that, but all of it had been fun. Fun in a way I’d never experienced before. I loved her kindness, her desire to make the world a better place, her sense of humor, not to mention our off-the-charts chemistry. What I felt for her was deeper, more grounded, than anything I’d felt for Sadie.

Fuck.

I loved her.

I looked around. At small children petting the animals, their faces bright, as their parents watched with indulgent grins. Dana driving a hayride full of families down the dirt road toward the orchards. Two teenagers holding hands, shooting each other shy smiles as they walked toward the petting zoo, home-made strawberry ice creams in their hands. Lottie, still high on her pony, chatting to Ronnie as she clutched the reins.

And I loved this farm.

It had only been six weeks but I couldn’t imagine my life without Olivia or the farm. I couldn’t let them go without doing everything in my power to keep them—even if it meant me putting my pride aside and begging my parents for a loan.