Page 116 of Business Casual
Her eyes narrow over the top of it. “Charlie. Did you”—she squints her eyes and tilts her head to the side—“map out an expansion? For the farm?”
“Possibly.”
She picks up another piece of paper. My poorly doodled map and the sheet right beneath it. She holds them all fanned out in her hands, a bewildered look on her face. “Did you make budget sheets too? And list out possible partners?”
I shrug. “I needed something to keep me busy.”
I thought I’d have more time to hide it before she got back. My plan was to tuck the paperwork under her recurring candy cane order invoice and play stupid when she brought it up. I think I organized everything a little too well.
She drops her hands on top of her clean desk. “Maintaining the farm and working your job in New York wasn’t enough of an activity?”
“Apparently not.”
“And hooking up with Nova Porter didn’t add enough flavor? You needed to make me a business plan too?”
I freeze with another cupcake halfway to my mouth. “Um.”
“Mm-hmm,” she continues, not looking at me. She flips anotherpage in her stack. “I am aware of what you were up to, Charles Abraham Milford.”
“That’s not my middle name.”
“And that’s not the most important takeaway from that sentence. The phone tree has been talking about it since we left. Luka kept a close eye on the situation while we were in Italy.”
I drop my cupcake. “I knew it.”
“And if that wasn’t enough of an answer, I caught you slinking out of an alleyway with her lipstick on your neck.”
I ignore that part. “So, the phone tree is still active, then.”
“Again,” Stella drawls, “not the most important takeaway from that sentence.”
I wonder when they took me off. Was it at the wedding? Was it after that first harvest festival committee meeting? What have I missed? How do I get added back on? Is there an appeals process? Who makes these decisions?
I have so many questions.
“You know how invested I am in the phone tree.”
“I’m aware.” She reaches forward and plucks one of the cupcakes out of my box. “What’s going on with Nova, Charlie?”
I hesitate. “What does the phone tree say?”
“Well,” she takes a bite out of her cupcake and chews thoughtfully. “There was a video of you falling from her roof half naked. Luka watched it thirty-seven times. Between that and the alleyway, I can put the pieces together easily enough. But I’d like to hear it from you. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“You’ve been back in town for twelve hours.”
“And yet while I was away, you managed to share numerous selfies of yourself around the farm.”
That’s true. We texted frequently while she was in Italy. She asked how the farm was doing, and I decided to send her a photo diary in response. Me and the kittens. Me decorating a tree with mini pumpkinsin the west fields. Me on top of Beckett’s tractor. Me lying on the ground next to Beckett’s tractor after he yanked me off it.
“Which one was your favorite? Mine was the one with me and Diego.” I smooshed my face next to Beckett’s cow while he had a mouthful of grass. I think we look adorable together. I might make it my Christmas card this year.
“Charlie,” Stella sighs. “Enough deflecting. Why didn’t you tell me about Nova? Why did you do all this extra work for the farm?”
“It wasn’t extra work.”
She looks down at the papers in exasperation. “You made an entire expansion plan. There’s a…festive themed bar with a sample menu. You have leads for farmers market distributors. You somehow got Beckett to sign an agreement that he’ll actually take part in a farmers market.” Under the duress of half a bottle of tequila and the promise of an adopted pig, but whatever. “This is a business plan for the next five to seven years. It’s not some little project you did when you were bored. This is a big deal.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
