Chapter 22 – Lena
I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, the steady ticking of the hall clock grating on my nerves. I’d told Enzo a thousand times I was going to run that thing through the wood chipper, but he insisted he found it soothing.
I rolled over, praying for sleep. The first thing I was going to do in the morning was get rid of that clock once and for all. I gazed out my bedroom window at the moon rising high in the clear sky. It was different out here in the bunkhouse than in my childhood room at the big house. Much quieter.
Several years ago, Enzo and I had renovated the bunkhouse into an apartment for us. We didn’t need such a big bunkhouse anymore. We couldn’t afford to pay the full-time workers who would have lived here. We kept a few beds on the other end of the bunkhouse. Wishful thinking for a return of the glory days when Orchard Hill Farm was a thriving business. Not that I remembered what that was like.
My brother was still up at the house, and I had gone to bed early, hoping to lose myself in the pages of a novel. I needed to forget about the insanity of that town meeting, but even books couldn’t save me now.
“How did I let this happen?” I asked the moon, but she didn’t have the answers either. There had to be a way out of this forced partnership with the one man I couldn’t work with. The town had picked the wrong Ashford. I could have worked with Carter as a silent investor. Even Conrad would have been a better choice.
“Conner.” I said his name like a curse. He’d already shown his doubt in my plans, and he hadn’t even seen them yet. I lay there envisioning how he would change everything, using his money as a means to get what he wanted. In time, he would control Orchard Hill, and my family would suffer the consequences of my dreams that had led to this disaster.
“That’s what you get for dreaming too big, Lena,” I whispered into the night, willing myself not to cry. I wouldn’t shed a single tear over Conner Ashford.
Headlights flooded my room, and the sound of a slamming car door had me sitting up in bed. Who would come here so late at night? I looked at my phone charging on my bedside table. It was barely ten PM on a Friday night. When did I get to be such a boring person?
Someone banged on the door, the sound echoing through the sparsely furnished bunkhouse. I slipped out of bed, peeking into the hall to see if Enzo had come home yet. The apartment was tiny. Two small bedrooms, a single bathroom we shared, and a narrow hallway that led to a small living room and kitchenette. No one else was home, so it looked like I was answering the door in my pajamas.
I shivered as I walked down the hall in my shorts and t-shirt, the socks on my feet barely keeping the cool evening temperatures at bay.
“Who is it?” I hissed, hugging my arms to my chest.
“Conner.”
A surge of anger warmed me up in an instant.
“What do you want?”
“Open the door, Selena, we need to talk.”
I snatched the door open, fire smoldering in my belly. I was not in the mood to argue with this rich jerk tonight. “What?” I snapped.
He was holding a folder, leaning against the doorframe in his loose jeans and faded t-shirt. His hair was a mess. I looked for Duke, but he wasn’t with him. This was the most un-put-together I’d ever seen Conner Ashford.
Without returning my chipper greeting, he shoved past me.
“Sure, come on in.” I closed the door. “Don’t wait for an invitation. But of course, you’re an Ashford, so you just take whatever you want.” I rolled my eyes.
“That’s the first thing that has to change.” He glared at me.
“Here we go.” I stalked to the kitchen, shoving the tea kettle onto the hot plate. I was going to need the mother of all calming herbal teas if we were doing this tonight.
“Can we call a truce, Selena? Our first one apparently isn’t in affect anymore. Neither of us want this, but we can’t get out of it now, so we have to agree to be civil from this point forward. For real, this time.” Conner stood with his hands on his hips, tapping his foot on my cheap linoleum floor. “Can we do that?”
“That depends.” I pulled down two mugs from the wooden pegs Enzo had hung on the wall over the sink. “How much of a silent partner will you be?”
“It’s a solid investment.” Conner tossed his folder onto the pub table that divided the kitchenette from the living room.
“What’s that?” I nodded at the folder and scooped a few teaspoons of my gram’s apple chamomile and lavender tea blend—one of many I hoped to sell in our general store if we could ever get this project off the ground.
“Your brother gave it to me when I was here last. It’s your business plan.”
“He is dead to me.” I flipped open the folder. It was everything I’d spent the last years working to develop.
“If we’re going to do this, then we have to be on the same page. I have a lot of experience I can bring to the table, Selena. I can help you make this happen, but we have to work together.” Conner sank into the pub chair with a sigh.
“Tea?” I lifted the kettle and poured boiling water into my mug.
“Sure.” Conner nodded absently.
I brought our mugs to the table and sat down opposite him. He’d called my plans a solid investment. As much as I hated the idea of working with him, I’d at least hear him out.
“So, what are your thoughts?” I pulled the folder to the center of the table, laying out the basic building plans for each phase of the project. Without asking, I loaded both mugs with plenty of wildflower honey. It brought out the flavor of the apples in the tea.
“You’re absolutely right about the location. It has to be the land parcel you wanted to buy. It’s the perfect location near town.” Conner ran a hand through his hair. “Honestly, it’s a brilliant use of the land.”
I tried to hide my smile, taking a sip of the scalding hot tea. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but I liked the passion I heard in his voice. He was into this. But that was just a quick hop and a skip away from taking over. That was one thing I would never allow.
“Let’s be clear from the start, this is a silent partnership. If it’s happening at all, I am in charge of this venture. You are the wallet, and that is all.”
“That’s not how a silent partnership works. Yes, I will provide the initial investment, but I get a say in how my investment is used. I will guide you through the project in a way that will benefit us both and allow me to recoup my investment plus a profit over time.”
“See, now that just sounds like fancy business talk for taking over. Orchard Hill Farm and its future endeavors belong to me and my family.”
“Selena.” Conner’s eyes filled with concern. “I will never take your business away from you or your family. I don’t want it, and when we work with our lawyers to draft our business agreement, we will put everything in writing so you have the protection of a legal contract behind you.”
The first real stirrings of hope fluttered like butterflies in my stomach. “I still don’t trust you.” I narrowed my eyes at him.
“It’s a good idea, Selena. I want to be part of it.”
“Ashford money feels like blood money.” I sipped my tea, wondering how I’d gotten myself into this mess.
“Well, then, it’s a good thing we won’t be relying on Ashford money.” Conner smiled, his eyes lighting up with mischief.
“Wait, what now?”
“My father doesn’t need to be part of this, so any investment I use for Orchard Hill will come from my personal funds that my father doesn’t control.”
I nodded. “I like the sound of that.” Hope was a scary thing when one had to put their trust in someone they despised. “We need to discuss every aspect of how this will work leading up to phase one of construction.”
Conner took a sip of his tea and leaned forward, eager as I was whenever I talked about this project. “That’s where I want to make the first big change. You’re thinking too small, Selena. With an investor, we don’t need to phase it out. Go big or go home, right?” He picked up the master drawing that showed where I wanted to be in ten years. “We go right to phase four and hit the ground running.”
“Absolutely not.” I stared at him, wondering how he ran a successful business. “We start with phase one.” I lifted the phase one drawing that showed two small buildings closest to town. The general store and the cider cafe. “We use phase one to pay for phase two.” Phase two was the restaurant and the Christmas shop that would open seasonally for the first two years. We would sell Orchard Hill Christmas trees, and eventually, it would stay open year round.
“We will earn the highest profit margins if we go straight to phase four this year.”
“This year? Are you nuts?” I gathered up all the documents and shoved them back in the folder. “That’s a great way to go bankrupt within the first three years.” My entire business plan was based on building up to phase four. “This whole venture is a huge risk.” I shook my head. “Phase one is the best way to build slowly over time without risking losing everything.”
“It’s a big change, I know that.” Conner sipped his tea. “Let it sink in, and we can talk about it again later.”
“No. If we’re going to do this, we’re doing it my way.”
“This tea is really good.” Conner took another sip. “Really good.”
“It’s my gram’s blend. She makes it with chamomile from her garden and our pink lady apples. The wild flower honey Mr. Peterson bottles is what makes it even better.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.” Conner leaned forward. “This tea should be on our shelves.”
“It will be, in phase three when we add the Superiore Bay market. I want a place for all the local vendors to sell their products on consignment. From Mr. Peterson’s wild honey to Mallory Ellison’s apple-cherry chutney, and Rusty’s applewood smoked bacon, Mrs. Chapman’s goat cheese, and Mr. Webber’s prize-winning butternut squash. This town has so much to offer. I want them to have a place to showcase the things they’re most proud of.”
Conner smiled. “That is my favorite part of your plan. What an incredible way to give back to the community.”
“In phase three.”
“Think of it, Selena. This time next year, you could have it all up and running.” He smiled over his mug.
“You’re insane.” I drained the last of my tea and took my mug to the sink. “It’s too much too soon.”
“If you didn’t have an eager investor willing to fund the project, it would be way too fast. But you do have a very talented, business savvy investor who can front the money to make it happen.” Conner stepped up behind me, setting his empty mug in the sink.
I turned around, daring to hope. “Show me the figures.”
“Really?” He grinned.
I nodded, feeling like I could puke. “I need to see the projections and the debt ratios. If I’m doing this, I want to be in the black within five years.”
“That’s doable.”
I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. “Are we doing this?”
Conner grabbed me and pulled me into his arms. “Yes, we’re doing it! You won’t regret it, Selena, I promise.” And then, the idiota kissed me. His lips pressed against mine, warm and inviting. His arms held me pressed close against his chest. And I kissed him back. It had been so long since I’d been kissed, I completely lost my sanity for a single moment.
“No.” I pulled back, shaking my head. “No, no, no. This,” I pointed between us, “this is just business, nothing else.”
“Of course.” Conner’s eyes filled with horror. “I got swept away in the excitement.” He stepped back, putting some distance between us. “I should go.” He fumbled for the door. “We’ll talk again soon.” He slammed the door behind him, and I leaned against it.
Oh man, that was a good kiss.