Page 121 of The Havenport Collection

Violet

“ B ad bitches reporting for duty.” Nora saluted me as she hopped out of Cece’s car.

She was wearing leggings, knee-high boots, and a T-shirt that read “Feminism Is My Second Favorite F Word” that was knotted at the waist. Classic Nora.

“It’s nice to see you again.” Astrid offered me a handshake that almost crushed my fingers, and I knew immediately that my dad would have loved her.

“Hey, Violet.” Cece came over and gave me a hug. I was enveloped by the smell of lavender and a wave of hair. It never ceased to amaze me just how beautiful and happy she looked every day. She deserved it.

“I’m not sure if I said so this weekend, but congrats on your engagement.” I gazed at the gorgeous ring on her finger.

She beamed at me. “Thank you so much.”

Nora came over and put her arm around Cece. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”

I nodded.

“I hope you don’t mind that I tagged along,” Nora said. “Astrid and Cece mentioned at Monday breakfast that they were headed over here to meet with you, and I thought maybe I could help as well. Feel free to kick me out. I won’t be insulted.”

“Of course not. I am thrilled you are all here.”

Astrid gently shoved Nora. “Don’t listen to her, Violet. She came here to see if she could catch a glimpse of Yael.”

Nora blushed. “I love her, okay?”

I rolled my eyes at Nora. Yael tended to have this effect on people, both men and women. “I’m sure she’s around, but she’s also happily married to my sister.”

“Oh, she knows,” Cece said. “Nora’s neither a home-wrecker nor a lesbian; she just thinks Yael’s awesome.”

Nora looked at me seriously and clutched her imaginary pearls. “I would never! Ro-el is the best couple in Havenport. They are my life goals.”

“Roel?” I asked, confused.

Cece turned around, her wave of curls following her and almost hitting me in the face.

“Wait, they are your favorite Havenport couple?” Cece asked incredulously. “I am your best friend.”

Nora gave her a pitying look. “Rose is an Olympian, and Yael is a military badass. I love you, but do you honestly think you and Liam can compete? Don’t get me wrong, Liam is a bearded snack, but have you seen Yael’s abs?”

“Astrid?” Cece asked, looking at her friend for support.

“Sorry.” Astrid shrugged her shoulders.

Cece nodded, shoulders slumped. “You’re right. We can’t compete with that.”

Nora put her arm around her and gave her a squeeze. “It’s okay, sweetie, I still love you, and LiCe is still in my top five.”

I smirked. These gals were hilarious.

Astrid stood watching them over the rim of her cool aviator sunglasses, clearly amused but also clearly the straight man in this group.

“Right this way,” I said, gesturing toward the barn.

In preparation for the meeting, my mom had helped me clear my dad’s old office on the second floor of the old barn.

It was a large, airy room with windows that looked out over the orchard.

It was perfect for meeting my unofficial group of advisors.

Callum had helped me carry a big table up here, and Mom found some mismatched chairs in storage. I had hung a few whiteboards on the walls and sketched out some thoughts and a rough agenda.

But I was nervous. I wasn’t some fancy, educated businesswoman. These ladies were all crushing life in their own ways. Cece had a marketing practice that was growing bigger by the minute, Astrid was an Ivy League-educated lawyer, and Nora owned one of the most successful businesses in town.

I wasn’t a girl boss. I was just a ditzy mom who was in over her head.

And my head was currently filled with nothing but thoughts of Callum Quinn.

It has been less than forty-eight hours since that incredible kiss under the fireworks, and I was totally confused.

I was feeling things—things I didn’t have the time or energy to deal with at the moment.

But I had a fantastic opportunity in front of me, and I was going to make the most of it. I couldn’t let a tall, dark, and handsome distraction get in the way of saving the farm.

Cece looked around the main floor awestruck. “This barn is gorgeous.” She wandered around, taking in the architecture and the light.

“Look at those beams,” Nora squealed.

“It’s post and beam construction,” I added.

“My great-grandfather built it back in the 1940s. It’s old but beautiful.

We have newer, more functional barns on the other side of the property, but this is sort of our family barn.

We have some offices upstairs, and we’ve used this large space for family gatherings.

We did Thanksgiving out here last year with some space heaters. It was super fun.”

Nora and Cece stopped walking and stared at each other. I could have sworn they were speaking telepathically.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Nora asked.

Cece tossed her phone to Nora, who started taking photos of her around the barn.

“Oh my God, the lighting is amazing,” Nora gushed. “And lighting is, like, eighty percent of looking good.”

“A-woman to that!” Cece said, looking over Nora’s shoulder at the photos.

“Do you do weddings here? On the farm?” Cece asked coyly.

“No,” I replied. We certainly weren’t set up for something like that. We had the space for sure, but all the other amenities that weddings required, not so much.

“You should. There is a TON of money in the wedding business. And this place is charming and rustic and soooo gorgeous.” She continued to flit around, admiring the space and posing for photos.

“Thank you,” I said. “I know nothing about hosting weddings, but at this point I’m happy to do anything that will generate more revenue.”

“Guys, let’s at least sit down and get started before we start throwing ideas at Violet,” Astrid said softly, giving her friends a meaningful look.

I led them up the stairs to the open loft area and then to the back side of the building, where there were two offices, an ancient bathroom, and some storage space.

After settling everyone in my makeshift conference room with some water and locally brewed and bottled iced tea, I started to walk through the farm business with them.

Callum had encouraged me to write out a rough business plan, explaining some of the history, the main revenue sources for the last five years, the changes I had made, and my plans for future business.

I explained generally how things worked and what I’d been doing since I took over. We walked through the marketing plan, our signature crops, revenue cycles per season, and all the farm staff.

All three listened intently, taking notes and asking thoughtful questions. I stood up a little straighter—they were taking me seriously, and I was elated. Perhaps I did have a future as a businesswoman.

Astrid, who was probably one of the smartest people I’d ever met, had lots of questions. “Do you take advantage of federal subsidies and grant programs?” she asked.

“Not that I’m aware of.”

Astrid was furiously taking notes in her fancy leather portfolio. “There are tons of government programs for small farms. Interest free loans, grants, and tax deferral programs. I am going to do some research and get back to you.”

I nodded. If those things were available, wouldn’t Nick have pursued them?

Or at least mentioned them? I was overcome with anger at the shitty job he did for this farm, but I shook it off.

Her suggestions were helpful and warranted follow-up.

I had to focus on the future, not dwell on past mistakes.

“And I am going to work up a marketing plan for you,” Cecelia said.

“Starting with using what you already have. You have tons of land, tons of buildings, and tons of charm. I think events are a layup. With some planning and prep, we can bring in some ancillary income to get this place humming along.”

I wanted to hug her.

“And I’ll also get started on auditing your social media accounts and put together a plan for growth,” she continued, making some notes with a fancy stylus on her iPad.

“And I am going to spread the word on your farm-to-table initiative,” Nora said. “Why don’t you present at the next chamber meeting? We can talk through partnership options and see if we can generate some leads from area restaurants and stores.”

I nodded, unable to keep up with the rapid-fire brilliance that was flying at me.

“Have you thought about hard cider?” Cece mused. “Your cider is amazing, and Liam and his brothers are starting a beverage distribution company. They have been looking for a cider.”

“I don’t know anything about fermenting cider, but I will happily speak to him. We have more apples than we can sell.”

Cece tapped her lips with her stylus. “We will take care of that. We can promote the hell out of the pick-your-own business. Do you have a vintage truck or any old farm equipment?” She started pacing around the room, pausing to look out at the orchards.

“We have a ton of stuff.”

“Perfect. I’m going to send my intern over for her to take some photos for your website and socials next week. We will get your digital footprint updated and start blasting the social channels. You will have a lot of apple pickers this year. I promise.”

I was overcome. In less than two hours, these women had come here, dug in, and helped me brainstorm ideas for my business.

They had built me up, complimented me, and offered real, workable solutions.

I was overwhelmed with gratitude. I had spent the last year running around like a chicken with my head cut off, convinced that failure was inevitable.

I guess Sebastian really did a number on me. He belittled me and mocked me and always treated me like I was stupid. Made fun of my anthropology degree and my patchy work history. He made me feel like I wasn’t smart enough to understand his business. So I didn’t ask and busied myself with the boys.