Читать книгу Something About You - Bridget Anderson - Страница 15

Chapter 5

“Are we sure we want to get in bed with these guys?” Glenda asked.

Miles sat across the table from his business partner, at Saul Good’s sandwich shop, and contemplated her question. In the five years he and Glenda Edmunds had been in business together, her instincts had never been wrong. Glenda may have the body of a supermodel, but she also had the brains of a business mogul. The first time they met at a local beer festival he attended with friends, he asked her out. That date turned into a business meeting, and the partnership was formed.

“What about the Latin American deal don’t you like?” Miles asked.

“It’s too good to be true. I agree we need more public–private partnerships to generate crops that meet the needs of poorer countries, but the study they’re citing, I’ve never heard of this institute.” She pushed some papers across the table to him. “Give me a little more time to study them before we all sit down.”

He picked up the papers and skimmed over the first page. “Sure, take a few more days.”

“Great.” Glenda closed her folder and sat back in her seat. “So, how are things going with Brandon?”

After taking a deep breath, Miles rested his forearms on the table’s edge and turned his hands palms up. “He’s coming along, I guess. It’s not quite the summer vacation he planned, but I’m gonna make sure he goes back to school with some real-world business experience.”

“How did he like the World Hunger Day conference?”

Miles shrugged. “He got bored and started hitting on some of the young female volunteers.”

Glenda laughed. “He’s a Parker, all right. Why don’t you let him shadow me for a week or so? We can take care of some business, and he can help me shop for a new car.”

“Oh, he’ll love that. The car part, anyway.”

She held her fork up. “Then let’s make it happen.”

Miles nodded, and they continued to eat. After several bites, Glenda got back to business.

“So, last week when we spoke you were going to check out the property in Nicholasville I was telling you about. What happened with that?”

“It’s been a crazy week. I haven’t had time to run back down there.”

“I thought you were already in the area? You said you were in Danville.”

“I was actually on a working organic farm in Danville.”

Glenda put her fork down, laughing, and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “You worked on an organic farm? What on earth for?”

“At the conference, my college mentor introduced me to this woman who has a nonprofit program called Rooted Beginnings that focuses on organic fruits and vegetables. She’s already gotten her program into the local school system. She’s pretty sharp.”

Glenda leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms. “Oh, I get it now. What’s her name?”

“Kyla Coleman. She’s working on her PhD. And what is it that you get, exactly?” he asked before taking another bite of his burger.

“Why Miles Parker would spend any time on a farm.”

Miles straightened his back. Glenda knew him better than anyone. He wasn’t the type of guy who planted his own anything. He purchased everything from the grocery store or had the store deliver. She also knew he wasn’t the womanizer the gossip rags made him out to be. “Glenda, you know me better than that. Her program sounded like something I might be interested in, so I decided to check it out.”

“Miles, dial it back. You’re talking to me. We deal in drought-resistant soybean seeds, not organic fruits and vegetables. Unless you’re thinking about investing in another business?”

“No, of course not. But I like to remain open to everything. During her presentation, she mentioned something about a new method in farming. I was hoping to learn more, but she didn’t get into that.”

“So what did you learn?”

“That she places a large emphasis on food education. It was interesting.”

Glenda leaned forward. “In other words, nothing, when you should have been checking out that fourteen-acre farm in Nicholasville. I’m telling you, it’s going up for foreclosure, and we need to grab it.”

Miles wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I’m thinking about going back down there for a week, so I’ll check it out then.”

Glenda’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, I am. The farm is also a B and B. The owner, Rollin Coleman, is a former football player from UK. He was there at the same time I was. It’s a nice place. Besides, in half a day’s time I didn’t get to see much of what she does.”

Glenda exhaled a long breath and looked down at the table. Then she inhaled and raised her head. “Miles, I hope it’s the farming you want to get up close and personal with, and not something else.”

Finished eating, Miles pushed his plate aside. “Glenda, I’m all about business. If anybody knows that by now, it’s you.”

Glenda also pushed her plate aside just as the waiter came to clear the table. After he walked away she said, “I know, you’ve been more focused than ever lately. It’s ultimately up to you, but I don’t think I’d stay a whole week. A day or two, maybe. What do you hope to learn in a week’s time?”

A little voice in the back of Miles’s head told him to listen to Glenda, but his instincts shut that voice up. “Something that will take our business to the next level. You know how we stumbled across that microfinancing connection?”

Glenda nodded.

“Well, if my instincts are any good, our next business venture might be right there waiting for me to come digging in the dirt.”

* * *

After Miles had his assistant book him a room at the B and B under an assumed name, she’d informed him that the photo he’d authorized via email of himself and the cook was posted proudly on their website. He smiled when he thought about that day as he headed back to the B and B to spend some more time. The only thing that mildly worried him now was not being able to monitor Brandon for a week, but Glenda had assured him she had everything under control.

Miles arrived at the B and B on a Sunday evening just past sunset. He grabbed his duffel bag from the backseat of his SUV and walked up to the front porch. Two guests had taken up residence in the large white rocking chairs that flanked the front door.

“Good evening, folks,” Miles said in greeting.

“Evening, sir.” An elderly man in wire-rimmed spectacles holding a glass of what looked like whiskey, but was probably iced tea, returned the greeting.

“Good evening.” The woman across the porch with knitting yarn and needles in her lap spoke without looking up.

Miles smiled at the Norman Rockwell-ish scene and opened the front door. He walked into the foyer and immediately smelled something baking. He didn’t know if it was apple pie, banana bread or a combination of both, but it smelled wonderful. The first time he’d visited, he had two young men with him who took most of his attention. This time, the grandness of the foyer caught his eye the minute he walked in. He was reminded of several classic films he’d watched that were set in the South.

He strolled over to the front counter while marveling at the staircase that was unlike anything he’d seen in a typical Southern home. No one was around, so he tapped the little silver bell on the desk. He turned around and leaned against the counter.

So, this is my home for the next five days. Nice. The Coleman House B and B wasn’t as posh as some hotels he’d stayed in, but this was pure Southern charm.

The hall door opened, and a beautiful black sister came out to greet him.

“Hello, thank you for visiting The Coleman House. Are you checking in?” she asked.

“Yes, I have a room reserved for the week.” He blinked, almost forgetting his false name. “Uh, Frank Meeks,” he finally said with a smile.

She tapped his name into the computer. “Yes, Mr. Meeks, we’ve been expecting you. Are you alone?”

“Yes, just me for the week.”

“Well, it says here you’re paying by credit card, so if I can see the card we’ll get you all checked in.”

While Miles fished the card out of his pocket, the young lady kept talking.

“Are you in town for a special occasion or visiting the college, maybe?”

He shook his head and handed her his credit card. “No.”

She looked at the card and then back up at the computer before her brow creased. “I’m sorry, but the name on the card and the name I have here,” she touched her computer screen, “don’t match.”

He leaned on the counter. “Yeah, about that. I had my assistant make the reservation in another name, if you don’t mind, to protect my privacy while I’m here. I’m here to do a little research.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Research? What kind of research?”

Before he could answer, the door opened again and a woman he recognized, but whose name he couldn’t remember, walked out.

“Mr. Parker!” she exclaimed.

Miles straightened and smiled. “Hello. I’m back.”

“Corra, this is Miles Parker, the baseball player in the picture with Rita.” The woman who’d come to Miles’s rescue now held out her hand. “Remember me? I’m Tayler, Rollin’s wife. We took a picture together, too. I’m the one who used to live in Chicago.”

Miles raised his chin and accepted her hand. “Yes, I remember. Tayler, it’s nice to see you again.” The introductions during his first visit had been brief, but he remembered her face.

“You’re checking in?” Tayler asked with wide eyes.

“Frank Meeks is checking in,” Corra corrected, then winked at Tayler.

“Although it’s not always necessary, I sometimes use an assumed name in order to get a little privacy. I want to spend some time learning about Rooted Beginnings and the rest of the farm.”

“Oh, sure, not a problem.” Corra continued signing him in. “My husband used to play football for the University of Kentucky. Maybe you’ve heard of him, Christopher Williams?”

Miles took a step back and chuckled. “Of course I know Chris. He was an upperclassman when I was at UK. That’s right, he’s from around here, isn’t he?”

“Yep, he grew up in Danville,” Corra replied. She handed Miles his credit card back.

“Man, it would be great to see him before I leave.” He put the card back into his pocket.

“He’s out of town right now, but I’m sure I can make that happen as soon as he returns,” Corra said with a smile.

“That would be great.”

Tayler came from behind the counter. “Let me show you to your room. I hope you’ll find it acceptable.”

“Thank you.” He quickly turned back to Corra. “It was a pleasure meeting you, and I look forward to catching up with Chris this week.”

She smiled. “The pleasure was all mine.”

Miles picked up his bag and followed Tayler up the grand staircase.

“You don’t have to worry about your privacy. We’re very good at keeping our guest list from prying eyes.”

“Thank you. I usually don’t do things like this by myself, so I kind of want to enjoy the experience. I can’t believe Rollin and Chris are both affiliated with this B and B.”

“Seems like a reunion for you guys.” Tayler stopped at the first door on the right at the top of the stairs. With a key, she opened the door and walked in. “This suite has a king size bed and looks out onto the gardens out back. It’s cozy, but it has all the modern conveniences.” She opened the bathroom door and turned on the light. “I think you’ll find everything you need in the bathroom.”

He walked into the room and dropped his duffel bag next to the bed. “This is great.” The room was nicely decorated in neutral colors and came with a four-poster bed, a fireplace, and a small desk and chair perfect for his laptop, if he bothered to pull it out this week. He walked over and peeked into the bathroom, happy to see a shower large enough for him.

Tayler stood in the room’s entrance. “Well, there’s herbal tea and cookies in the dining room if you’re interested. Breakfast starts at seven, and the truck leaves at eight. You’ve experienced that before, so you know what to expect.”

He smiled at her, happy with the hospitality and the fact that she didn’t ask him a lot of questions. “That’s the reason I’m here.”

“I bet Kyla will be surprised to see you in the morning. She’s out right now.”

He felt an unexpected warmth at the mention of her name. “I hope I’ll be a good surprise.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will be,” Tayler said with raised brows. “Well, we have an extensive library if you want to kick back and read something or watch a movie. As soon as Rollin returns, I’ll let him know who Frank Meeks really is,” she said with a wink before leaving Miles alone.

He sat down to test out the bed. It was nice and comfortable. The size of the room reminded him of his bedroom growing up, only he didn’t have his own bathroom. He took off his shoes and fell back across the bed to stare up at the ceiling. Why had he decided to take a week out of his busy life to stay in this small-town B and B picking organic vegetables? He was interested in Kyla’s pitch from a business perspective, but did he really need to get his hands dirty?

If he was being honest with himself, maybe Glenda was right and there was more to his visit than research.