Chapter 27 – Lena

I studied the drawings just like the lead architect told me to. 

And now, I was freaking out. 

Full-on, I can’t do this, freak out. 

My hands shook as I tried to take a deep breath to calm myself. They were just drawings. Not brick and stone. We could still scale it back. A lot. I paced to the tiny bunkhouse kitchen to pour myself another cup of coffee. 

It was just too much, more than I could handle on my own. What was I even thinking when I dreamed this place up?

Dreaming. That was what I was doing. I flipped to the last page of the construction documents and shook my head. I didn’t recognize these buildings. They served no purpose that I could name. I went back to the first page and studied the plans again. 

Did we really even need a bed and breakfast? Wouldn’t that take business away from the other local B&Bs? I just wanted to create a destination. A year-round experience where people could come apple picking in the fall, maybe do a little shopping in the general store and take a hayride with their kids. And in winter, they could come ice skating, pick out a Christmas tree, and sip hot chocolate and apple cider. In the spring and summer, my place would be where people went when the beach was too crowded, or when the rain brought everyone into town for shopping. It didn’t need to be anything more than that.

I rolled up the set of documents and put them back in the tube. Grabbing my keys and my travel mug, I headed out the door before I could second guess myself. 

Grams didn’t like it when I rode my moped at night, but this was important. I had to talk to my partner before things went any further. There was me being scared and cautious, and then there was me being smart and cautious. I wanted to be the latter. 

My old moped started to shake just as I reached the apex of the enormous bridge that stretched across the bay. I could always count on her to get me to the top, but it was always touch and go there for a minute or two. I eased her down the other side at a slow pace to give her a break. 

Even in the darkness of the late hour, I could still see Ashford Estates sitting high along the cliffs opposite the bay. It occurred to me then that I had no idea how I would find Conner on such a big estate. Did he live in the house with his father? Or did he have a place somewhere on the grounds?

Anyone in Superiore Bay knew where the gates to the Ashford Estates were located, but few had been inside those gates—at least few of the sort of people I knew. 

I paused at the base of the bridge, pulling to the side of the road. 

Lena: I need to talk to you. I’m coming over, but how do I get past your gigantic golden gates?

Conner: Are they gold? I never noticed. The guest passcode is 091421. Come find me in the barn near the house, you’ll see my car. 

Lena: Be there in five. 

Conner: Okay, but stop freaking out before you get here. 

“I am not freaking out.” I pushed my moped back onto the street and made a right at the light to head up Oceanside Drive. “It’s called being practical, you over-privileged brat.” My moped sputtered and skipped as I coaxed her up the hill to the gated entrance of the estate. I really hoped there weren’t any more hills between here and the barn. 

“Ha! They are gold.” I pulled up to the high gates, leaning over to punch the code into the box, but it was all digital and sophisticated. 

“Access denied,” the AI voice said. 

“Come on, what do you want from me?” I muttered as I parked and leaned over the box. 

“Oh, you want a face scan? Really?” I rolled my eyes and looked down at the sleek looking box, making a face at it. “What, you Ashfords think this is the Pentagon or something?”

“One moment while I check with the family.” The voice sounded like something straight out of a movie where artificial intelligence took over the world. 

“Please say your personal code. Mr. Conner Ashford is expecting you.” 

I scowled and rattled off the numbers Conner had given me. 

“Thank you, you will be greeted shortly. Please proceed to the barn, and do not wander the property unescorted.” 

“What the actual heck?” I muttered as the gates finally opened. I zoomed through them before Ms. Smarty Pants AI could decide I wasn’t fancy enough to come inside these gates. 

The tree-lined drive was beautiful in the moonlight. To my surprise, it wasn’t overly landscaped. The Ashfords had let the rows of giant red maple trees flourish from generations past. It was lovely in the moonlight. Calming even. 

I slowed as the long drive led me through the tunnel of trees, taking a deep breath to get my head on straight. I had legitimate concerns about these plans. I just needed to keep my conversations with Conner focused and not let him shove my issues aside like they were nothing. 

Moonlight flooded the immaculate lawn beyond the tree-lined drive. I searched for the barn, seeing nothing but the enormous mansion lit up like the fourth of July. 

Then, I saw it. It was the fanciest barn I’d ever seen. It looked more like a brick house than a place to keep a few horses. Isolated from the house, it stood nestled in a copse of birch trees. Built of white brick with a steep red tiled roof and exposed beam trusses, it was … adorable. Like the stables at a fairytale castle. There was even a turret.

“Only on the Ashford Estate.” I rolled my eyes and parked my old moped beside Conner’s sports car. The barn even had a paved parking lot and red brick steps that led up to the open barn doors. 

Duke came out to greet me, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth as he skidded to a stop beside me and danced around in circles.

“Hey, buddy.” I scratched behind his ears. “Where’s your dad?”

Duke gave a loud bark and darted back up the steps, glancing behind to make sure I followed. 

I grabbed my tube of architectural drawings and my coffee mug and followed the gentle giant. I was perfectly calm and rational. We just needed to scale back on my plans.

“Conner?” I called for him as I stepped inside, where it resembled a barn far more than the exterior had. Fresh straw filled the empty stalls at the front of the building, but they were all empty. “Conner?”

I turned a corner and was startled to find an office. A really nice office with a huge oak desk and beautiful lighting and seating. It looked like something out of an interior design magazine. 

Duke wrestled in the corner with a huge teddy bear missing an eye and quite a bit of its stuffing. 

“Lena?” Conner called from a room behind his office. “In here!” 

I followed the sound of his voice into a room filled with really old-looking wine-making equipment. Aged barrels, vintage wooden wine presses and stills. “What is all of this?” I turned around in a circle. “And where are you?” I wandered through a maze of wine casks until I found him at the center of the mess, examining the contents of a barrel of grapes. 

“This is my wine room.” Conner didn’t spare me a glance. “One second and you can freak out.” 

I folded my arms across my chest. “I am not freaking out.” 

I watched as he studied his grapes, casting out ones he seemed dissatisfied with, though they looked perfectly fine to me. I drifted to his side, peering into the barrel of the vintage wine press he was using. It smelled funny. 

I reached for one of his discarded grapes, but he smacked my hand away. 

“Hey!” I rubbed my hand. “What was that for?”

“Don’t eat those, they’re rubbish.” 

“Rubbish?” I arched a brow at him, but he didn’t answer me. I studied him in his grubby t-shirt and worn jeans. I’d never seen him so … focused. 

He set the old press to do its thing, pressing the grapes the old fashioned way, churning and beating the grapes to a pulp with a heavy stone stained with juice. 

“Come with me.” He grabbed my hand and led me to yet another room. 

This one was filled with small wooden casks and dozens of dusty bottles on racks. 

“How much coffee have you had to drink tonight?” Conner perused the shelves of bottles. 

“Two or three … pots,” I admitted. 

“Hence, the freak out?” He smirked at me, lifting a bottle from its place on the shelf. 

“I am not freaking out,” I said calmly. 

“Have you looked in a mirror lately?” Conner moved to a table covered in the makings of a barrel. 

Did he make them himself? I wondered, watching him open the bottle of wine. 

“Come, we have to let it breathe for a few minutes.” He guided me back to his office and sat me down in front of his desk. 

“You have a sticky note stuck to your forehead.” He leaned back in his chair. 

“What?” I touched my forehead, and sure enough, my fingers came away with one of those small, square sticky notes in bright pink. Ignoring his chuckle, I tucked it into my pocket. It was one of many notes I’d stuck to the drawings. “Whatever.” I shook my head. “We need to talk about scaling back this monstrosity.” I waved the tube of drawings at him.

“Monstrosity?” Conner wiped his hands on a towel. 

“It’s too much.” I rolled the drawings out in front of him. “I know you want to go right to phase four, and that’s fine, but we need to scale back. Just because you have more money than Midas doesn’t mean we need to build a theme park.” I shook my head, standing and pacing in front of his desk. 

“Theme park? I wasn’t aware we’d escalated to apple-themed Ferris wheels and roller coasters.” Conner bent his head to study the drawings with my notes. There were a lot of sticky notes.

“We don’t need a bed and breakfast. Or the chapel. And I think the current location of the orchard is a mistake.” 

“Okay.” Conner nodded. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re worried about, and then we can work on a plan to scale things back a bit.” He leaned back again and put his feet up on his desk. 

I sat down in the leather chair opposite him. “What if we aren’t as successful as everyone thinks we’ll be? What then? We go straight to phase four with things we might not need yet, and then what happens if we struggle to get this business off the ground? Then, we’re stuck with buildings we didn’t need that we can’t afford to keep open.”

“I see. A valid worry.” Conner nodded. 

“I mean, Conner, there are buildings in these plans that I don’t even know what they’re for. I just think we’d be smart to trim some of the excess.” 

“Hold that thought.” Conner stood. “I’ll be right back, but find whatever you’re not sure about, and we’ll make sure we discuss it with the architects.”

I moved behind his desk to flip through the documents to find the pages with the rows of shops I didn’t remember discussing. There were at least twelve shops I had zero plans for, and a few of them looked like they had two stories. 

“Taste this.” Conner came up behind me with two glasses of amber-colored wine. His arm wrapped around to my front, cupping the glass of wine in his hand. 

I took the glass and pointed to the pages laid out on his desk. “We don’t need any of this.”

“Lena, sit and drink your wine. I need an opinion.” Conner pointed to my seat. 

I moved to the chair and sipped the wine. “It’s good.” I set it down, turning back to the drawings. 

“Good?” Conner leaned forward. “Good?” 

“Tasty,” I offered. 

“Try it again and focus on what you’re doing, Lena. One does not merely sip a fragrant hybrid wine and say it’s good. You need to experience the wine.”

“Experience it?” I rolled my eyes. It was wine, for crying out loud. 

“That’s it.” He stood up. “Sit back.” He ordered.

“Fine.” I sat back against the soft leather seat. 

“Put your feet up.” He scooted a low footstool out from under his desk, and I humored him. 

“Now, close your eyes and take three deep, cleansing breaths. In and out, slowly.” 

“What, are we meditating now?” I scowled up at him. 

“No scowling permitted while we are tasting wine. Wine tasting is supposed to be fun.”

“Wine tasting is fun when you don’t have a million other things on your mind.”

“Do you even know how to relax?” Conner laughed at me, and I couldn’t help but return his smile. I liked this version of him, the one he’d probably never have let me see outside this office.

“Fine, I will taste the wine.” I started to take another sip. 

“Start with the fragrance first,” Conner instructed. 

“I have to smell it?”

“Yes, that is part of the experience.” 

“Rich people are so weird.” I sighed into my glass, inhaling the scent. “Oh, that’s nice,” I hummed, taking another whiff. “What is that, apple blossoms?”

“Yes.” I could practically hear Conner’s grin. “But it’s not really apple wine, per se.”

I took a careful sip, letting the wine run over my taste buds. There was a distinct floral taste, but with a hint of pear and apple notes in addition to the underlying grape flavors. 

“This is really good, Conner.” I took another sip. “We should totally serve this at the restaurant.” 

“My thoughts exactly. We should only serve it at the restaurant and nowhere else.” 

“I love that idea. It’s perfect without being too appley.” I lifted my glass for a refill. “Did you make this yourself?” I gestured at the room behind his office.

Conner nodded. “I started working with the apple blossoms right around the time we got serious about this partnership. It’s not perfect yet, but it will be in time for our big restaurant opening. Unless, of course, you think we need to cut that too.” He gave me a mischievous smirk. 

“No, the restaurant is a must. But I’m serious about all this other stuff.” I pointed to the drawings on his desk. 

“This is what set you off tonight?” Conner ran a hand across the pages. 

“I don’t even remember talking about these buildings.” 

“That’s because we didn’t. I asked the architects to include plenty of commercial space.” He leaned forward to refill my glass. 

“We already have plenty of commercial space,” I protested. 

“For your plans, yes. We have allotted a space for each of your shops and event spaces, but this is for back up.” 

“Back up?” I took another sip of the most perfect wine I’d ever tasted. 

“Just in case our business struggles to get off the ground.” 

“How are a bunch of empty stores supposed to help us if that happens?” I was growing impatient. 

“Well, on the off chance that we need the extra income, we can lease these shops to other store owners. That will increase our monthly revenue to help us through any difficult times.” 

“Wait. What?” I leaned over the drawings. 

“Commercial property is a good investment, Lena. It’s good to have the space for our own growth and also for others to come join us and benefit from our success.” 

“Okay. I didn’t know that.” I felt a little foolish for coming all the way over here in a freak out. 

“Should we discuss the inn? If you’d like to scale back at all, I agree that is probably the best place to do it.”

“I don’t know.” I leaned against his desk, putting my head down on my arms. “I’m so confused. It all just feels too big. Like we’ve thrown everything into this but the kitchen sink. Did you see where they added a park with a carousel?” I flipped to the third page of the documents. 

“Of course they added things. That’s what architects do. It’s like they can’t help themselves.” Conner sipped his wine, swishing it in his mouth before he scribbled something in a notebook.

“We need to take that out, though …” I stuttered, trying not to say what I was going to say. 

“Though, what?”

“The carousel would be so pretty. But it’s definitely got to go.” 

“Along with the inn?” he asked. He was going to leave it to me to make this decision.

“Is it necessary? Aren’t we just taking business away from the other B&Bs in town?”

“Wait. Let me get this straight.” Conner chuckled. “You’re not worried about the competition. You’re worried for the competition?”

“Well, yes.” I frowned at him. “I don’t want to put anyone out of business.” 

“That’s why we made it cozy and small.” He turned the pages to the drawings of the inn. “It’s only sixteen rooms. It will stay booked that way, and it won’t take business away from your competitors. At least not too much.”

“So, what you’re saying is, I’m pretty much overreacting again, right?” I put my feet up on the desk and lifted my wine glass toward his. “Probably won’t be the last time.”