Page 112 of The Havenport Collection

Violet

A nother sweltering August day, another endless to-do list. I was in my office drinking lukewarm coffee and trying to figure out how to survive on four hours of sleep each night.

The Internet was surprisingly full of all sorts of dubious sounding hacks, and I was getting just desperate enough to consider trying some of them.

I heard Bob’s voice on the landing and almost fell out of my decrepit excuse for a desk chair. “What’s up, Bob?” I said, trying to compose myself.

“There are some men out doing a survey of the back acreage. Where the high tunnels are. Did you hire them?” He seemed confused, and I didn’t blame him.

I stood up, slightly disoriented. “No. I certainly didn’t. I’ll drive back there and take a look.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” As my late dad’s best friend and right-hand man on the farm, Bob was protective of me. I appreciated his concern, but I could deal with a few surveyors.

“I’ll be fine.”

I hopped in my dad’s truck and drove out, not surprised to find Nick’s Porsche parked along with a few trucks next to the high tunnels.

I swung myself out of the truck, landing in a puddle of mud that splashed up my calves.

Thankfully I was wearing my lucky yellow boots, so no harm done.

“What’s going on here?” I asked in my most menacing voice.

I wished I had a more intimidating outfit on as I stared down a group of four men.

Instead, I was wearing jean shorts, my Wellies, and an oversized Hogwarts T-shirt.

“Violet. How are you?” Nick asked in a fake-sounding concerned tone. He was dressed in a suit, and his hair was slicked back like a wannabe mafioso.

“Nick, what’s going on here?” I asked, hands on hips, ready to fight.

“This,” he said, waving his hand at the confused looking surveyors, “is nothing.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing. Explain to me why you’re on my land?”

“Just doing a quick survey, Violet. Drawing up some boundary lines, that sort of thing. All standard operating procedure.”

I could feel my blood boiling in my veins. How stupid did he think I was? Was he planning to sell my land out from under me? I clenched my fists and tried to modulate the tone of my voice.

“Since when? We have had plenty of surveys, and we certainly do not need to survey an individual parcel of our land.”

He looked at me, smiling like he had the upper hand.

“Gentlemen, kindly vacate my property. Nick will compensate you for your time and inconvenience.” I glared at Nick. How could he do this?

One older man, dressed in a designer suit with the shirt open to reveal entirely too much chest hair, stepped forward. “Listen here, missy. This is important work we’re doing.” My eye twitched. No one came on my land and called me missy. And just like that, I snapped.

I stared at the man. He was probably in his sixties, overweight, and reeked of cologne. “You are trespassing,” I continued, “and I would hate to have to get the police involved.”

That seemed to motivate the surveying crew who started packing up their equipment and got into their truck without another word.

“Oh Nicky, you are right, she is feisty.” The man laughed. He stood there laughing in my fucking face, while staring at my bare legs.

I walked closer. “Get off my land immediately, or I will call the police.”

He winked at me. “Oh, sweetheart, the cops in town are my friends. Don’t you know who I am?”

“I don’t give a flying fuck who you are. Get off or I’ll grab my daddy’s shotgun out of the truck and chase your ass off my property myself.”

He narrowed his eyes at me and sneered. “You will regret this.” He dusted off his jacket and started walking away. “Nick, I’ll wait in the car.”

“What the fuck, Violet?” Nick shouted after the door had shut. “You just totally embarrassed me in front of Fishman.”

“I don’t care. You have no right to bring surveyors on my property without permission. This is my land, Nick, and you are not going to bully me into selling.”

“Violet, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I took a breath and tried to tame the fiery dragon inside me. I wanted to kick and scream and maul Nick for this. But instead, I chose to remain calm.

“Nick. I think I want to go in a different direction. I appreciate all your hard work. But I think it’s time to end our professional relationship.” Ha. That was easier to say than I thought. That time spent rehearsing last week had certainly helped.

Nick crossed his arms and began to chuckle. “What? Oh, Violet, you can’t do that. We both know you need me to keep this place going. Just like I have for years.”

“Actually, Nick, I think it’s better if we parted ways. I need a fresh approach if I am going to save this farm. I would appreciate it if we could wrap up our business and get all my documents and files returned by the end of the month.”

“Violet, you can’t be serious. You have no idea what you’re doing.

While you were off flouncing around the world and doing whatever hippie shit you do, some of us were here, working alongside your father, doing the work and learning the ropes.

” Of course he has to invoke my father. Manipulative asshole.

“This is my farm. I have every intention of succeeding on my own, thank you. With the help of some qualified professionals who believe in me and believe in the farm. And we both know that does not include you.”

Nick just smirked at me. Asshole. “Suit yourself, Violet.” His tone turned to faux concern. “I just worry you might not understand the financial stuff. I wouldn’t want you to dig yourself into a deeper hole.” That rat bastard.

I paste on my best fake smile. “Thanks for your concern, Nick, but I’ll be fine. You should probably go. Now.”

I crossed my arms and tapped my foot, impatient to get this jerk off my farm.

He walked toward me, looking me up and down with a wolfish grin then pausing when we were only inches apart.

“I guess one good thing can come from this, Violet. Now that we are no longer working together professionally, I guess we can finally give in to this chemistry between us.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and I almost threw up in my mouth.

“No, thanks.” I choked back the far less kind words I was thinking. “Get out now. We both know I wasn’t joking about that shotgun.”

“To firing that asshole!” Rose cheered, raising her glass.

We got a prime table at Schmitty’s on the covered deck overlooking the harbor.

It was a rickety old picnic table that would probably give me splinters, but it was all part of the charm.

Schmitty's was famous for two things, the water views and the fried clams. However, since I had been a vegetarian for almost thirty years, I was mainly here to enjoy the view and the onion rings, which I would argue were the best on the planet.

So we ordered an extra-large basket and a bottle of white wine and enjoyed the sights and sounds of the harbor.

I put my feet up on the picnic table next to Rose like we used to when we were kids and took a deep breath of salty ocean air.

“That must have been hard,” Rose said.

“It was, but it needed to be done.” Deep down, I was proud of myself but also scared. I needed help with the finances, and soon.

“Dad loved it here.”

“He did,” I agreed, leaning over to toast her glass. My dad loved Havenport. He loved the ocean, the people, and all the fun traditions. We didn’t have a ton of money growing up, but on special occasions he always took us here. We would sit out and watch the sunset and laugh and eat.

“Remember the musical?”

I laughed. When I was a sophomore, I was cast as Eliza Doolittle in the Havenport High production of My Fair Lady .

It was a huge deal at the time, and my dad was so proud.

He volunteered to build sets and helped me run my lines.

It was one of the best things about my dad— he loved big, and he made sure you knew it.

Dad was so proud of me, and he invited the cast to Schmitty’s after opening night. He personally delivered baskets of French fries to everyone and kept talking about how brilliant I was. I blushed at the memory. At the time I was so embarrassed, but now the memory warmed my heart.

“He was the best,” I sighed. “I hate that he’s not here. I hate that my sons won’t know him.”

Rose gently squeezed my hand across the table. “I know. Fuck cancer.”

“Fuck it.” I stuffed another onion ring into my mouth.

After splitting some blueberry pie and another glass of wine, I was loosening up. It was nice to get out with my sister and let someone else make dinner for a change.

“How are you really? I know the farm stuff is overwhelming.”

“It’s hard. But I’m getting the hang of things. Mom is super helpful, and I’m starting to get a good handle on the various aspects of the business. My partnership initiative is going well. I’ve got verbal commitments from a few local restaurants. So I’m feeling good about the future.”

“It’s not easy.”

“No, it’s not. But it’s rewarding, taking what Mom and Dad have built and developing it further. I just want to succeed.”

“You will. It takes time. Being a small business owner sucks sometimes. I pull my hair out with stable business.”

“I’m sure you do. But it’s only because you have people beating down your door for your time.

” After her competitive equestrian career ended, Rose built her stables and riding school on the farm.

Students came from all over the United States for her lessons.

She had a waiting list of people looking to board their horses in her state-of-the-art facility. We could not be more different.

“Yes, but that took years. Also, do you want the name of my accountant? I know you need one after you canned Nick’s ass.” She laughed. Rose has hated Nick since childhood. She wasn’t one for hiding her feelings.

“That would be great. I need to hire someone.”

“Did it feel good? Firing him?” she asked, smiling broadly.