“Definitely better reheated.”

  Asher

  I run through the slideshow I’ve created. The new pictures I’ve taken of The Fields are simply stunning. I’ve stared at them over and over and still can’t believe it’s the same place I’ve trampled every inch as a child.

  I swear it’s the magic of photography but every image feels soft and romantic and like a place I’d personally want to hold an event. Granted, the images purposefully neglect to show the items getting the loan would provide, but they still highlight a complete and beautiful backdrop for an event.

  I glance around the waiting area. Funny how I was here the other day and didn’t notice these chairs. I welcome the distraction of thought though, because my knee keeps jogging up and down and my palms are so sweaty that I have to rub them on the only pair of slacks I think I own. This is a big deal in general, but it’s an even bigger deal to me. I want to be in and out of The Retreat before Ledger comes back from his working lunch.

  “Miss Wells?” I glance up and smile at the lady standing in the hallway. She gives me a peculiar look, one that says why are you meeting with Hillary when you were here the other day with Ledger? But I simply smile back at her. “Hillary will see you now.”

  “Thank you. Okay.” I rise on shaky legs with my laptop and a printed copy of the presentation in my hands and follow her.

  Hillary gives me a similarly curious look when I walk into her office, but doesn’t say a word until I take a seat.

  “I’m assuming there’s a good reason why you specifically asked to have this meeting with me when Ledger is out of the office?”

  Hillary is an imposing figure. She’s tall with hard features and unrelenting eyes. It helps that I’ve seen her laughing with Ledger before, or else my nerves would be more rattled than they already are.

  “Yes. For me, it’s a good reason. For you, it may put you in an awkward position, and for that, I’ll apologize ahead of time.”

  “Continue,” she says with a nod as she clasps and unclasps her hands in front of her on the desk.

  “Luxury. Decadence. A destination to lose yourself in. That’s your brand. That’s what S.I.N. properties are known for,” I say, repeating Ledger’s description that has stuck in my head ever since I decided to make this work. “And at The Fields, we not only share that vision, but we want to offer an opportunity for your guests to experience it with more of a small-town feel to it. Whether it be a wine tasting event beneath the stars in a fragrant field of lavender, or a family reunion with live music, or a wedding ceremony and reception, we can accommodate your needs.”

  With a deep breath, I continue my presentation for Hillary, struggling at times when her stoic expression gives me nothing to feed off of. When I’m finished explaining the premise, I move on to explain my future aspirations of producing lavender products for purchase.

  I force myself to slow down several times, but I hope my excitement for this new venture is more evident than my nerves.

  And when I finish, Hillary leans back in her chair, lips twisting and stare implacable. “Why exactly would our clients prefer your farm instead of this multi-million dollar resort they’re already paying for to hold their event?”

  “Some may. Some may not. The Fields simply gives you another option for those guests who wish to get more of an authentic small-town experience. As you’ll see when you read through the full proposal, I’ve listed comparative studies of other high-end resorts and similar partnerships, complete with a breakdown of the typical S.I.N. demographic and how this partnership can meet their needs.”

  Another nod. “And you didn’t bring this to Ledger for what reason?”

  I stare at her, blinking for a beat, assuming the answer is quite obvious, but I explain anyway. “If you should want to partner with The Fields on this, I’d rather the partnership be based on merit than obligation. As you’re aware, Ledger and I know each other personally. I want this opportunity because it’s valid and good and beneficial. Not because he feels obligated to make it.”

  “And you think I’m able to separate my decision even though you are my boss’s girlfriend?”

  “I’m not his—we’re not . . .” I clear my throat and shake my head. Shit. I wasn’t expecting her to be so blunt. “Clearly, you’re a damn good businesswoman, or else you wouldn’t be in charge of this resort. So yes, I think you are more than capable of making an unbiased decision on what is best for your resort when it comes to partnerships or outside opportunities. I also know that Mayor Grossman is holding you guys to the fire when it comes to incorporating the town somehow in The Retreat.”

  “And you think this would help with that?”

  “I think Sharpe International is undeniably receptive and astute and already has things in the works to fix Grossman’s requests. People are talking around town, and I think the tide might slowly be turning in your favor. Adding The Fields to your . . . guest options isn’t going to affect him one way or the other. But what does it hurt? The Retreat gets a booking fee for simply offering the opportunity. Your guests get a unique experience.”

  “And you get business.”

  “Yes. That is the point, after all,” I say without apology. My nerves have given way to confidence now. I’ll be doing this with or without the resort’s partnership.

  “How are we supposed to tie this into The Retreat?”

  “You don’t. We’re a lavender farm. You’re a large upscale resort. It’s simply another adventure they can take like the skiing or the outdoors packages you are offering through your concierge services.”

  “And the venue area is ready to go?”

  “It will be in the next month.” I hope. If I can secure the loan. Let’s hope the questions I was answering with the bank on the way over here are another positive step in doing just that.

  Silence falls in the office as Hillary flips through the paper version of my presentation. My pulse races and my knee begins to jog again.

  This is the first time I’ve ever had the opportunity to take a chance like this in my adult life. The Fields was always Gran and Pop’s. It always had to be run their way because you don’t fix what’s not broken. But now it’s essentially mine, and until this moment, I didn’t realize how bad I wanted this.

  How much I needed something more to define myself with.

  “It’s not a bad idea by any means,” Hillary muses, her eyes still looking at my proposal. “Your numbers are fair and your ideas sound.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m currently reviewing several other proposals to complement the packages Ledger and I are securing. I’ll definitely take yours into strong consideration when I make my decision.” She looks back up and gives me an all-business smile. “I don’t mean to sound cliché when I say I’ll be in touch, but I’ll be in touch.”

  “Thank you.” I rise from my seat and reach across the desk to shake her hand. “I appreciate your time.”

  It’s not until I am clear of the building that I think I actually exhale.

  Now it’s time to go spend some time with Gran to take my mind off waiting for an answer.

  Asher

  “It looks nice.”

  “What does?” I ask Nita as I plop down on the couch across from where she’s seated.

  “The house. You’re slowly making it yours.”

  “You mean I’ve taken down all of the embarrassing photos that Gran and Pop had hanging of me everywhere?”

  “Well, there’s that.” She laughs. “But it feels more like you than like them now.”

  “I know. It’s been a gradual process and a hard decision to make to start doing it, but I had to come to terms with the fact that Gran isn’t coming home and Pop is gone. I figured if I’m updating the barn, I might as well incorporate more of me in here as well.”

  “And how does that make you feel?”

  “Proud. Sad. Resolved. Pop and I never specifically talked about what I’d do when they were gone, but he always told me he loved my ‘Ash style.’ And so, now it’s both them and me. What they built with a little bit of me thrown in.”

  “Well, it looks great. Bright and clean with pops of color. I like it, and I think he would have too.” She shimmies her shoulders to add some levity. “It’s like I’m looking at an all-new Asher in so many different ways these days.”

  “Well, this all-new Asher is getting antsy waiting for Ledger to do whatever it is he’s going to do.”

  “Hey. I didn’t expect to hear from you until later. What’s up?”

  “So . . . I know you’re going to be pissed, but just go with it,” Ledger says.

  “Just go with what?” Why am I going to be pissed?

  “With the surprise I have for you. It’s not meant to tell you I don’t like you just how you are—but rather meant to spoil you.”

  “Um . . . okay.” I walk to the window of the farmhouse and look out to where George is messing with something, my curiosity more than piqued. “Should I be worried?” I tease.

  “No. Not in the least. I just wanted to do something special for you.”

  Cue my heart skipping a beat. “Okay.” I draw the word out. “When should I expect said surprise?”

  “You’ll know soon.”

  “What does he mean, you’ll know soon?” Nita asks.

  “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “But it has to do with the secret date he’s taking you on tonight?”

  “Yes. I asked him last night if he could give me some suggestions about what I should wear. That phone call was his answer.”

  “Sexy, rich, and mysterious. Are you sure I can’t make a play for one of his brothers?” She laughs.

  “Whatever.” I roll my eyes and then hold my hands out to my sides to showcase a pair of old running shorts and a plain black tank top. “Well, if whatever he has in store doesn’t show up soon, this is what he’s going to get for my date attire.”

  Nita laughs but then sinks back into my couch and looks at me wistfully. “It’s exciting though, isn’t it? To have a secret date and a handsome man planning it.”

  I look at her and twist my lips. “I think this is the most romantic thing someone has ever done for me. That’s not saying much considering a close second is Brad Wheelan sneaking Valentine’s hearts in my lunch box every day for a month in sixth grade.”

  “Seriously? Brad? As in Brad, Brad?” she asks, her eyes widening.

  “Yes. That Brad,” I say. The same Brad who is now married to his husband and living happily with two adorable sons.

  “Well, I think—”

  A knock on the door interrupts her and makes me jump. The windows are closed and the air conditioning is on, so the fact that someone drove down the driveway and I didn’t notice, startles me.

  “Are you expecting company?” Nita asks as I pull open the front door.

  “Hello?” I ask the woman standing on the front porch. Her hair is pulled back into a sleek bun, her entire outfit is black, and her makeup is flawless. She looks completely out of place on my doorstep.

  “Asher Wells?”

  “Can I help you?”

  Her smile widens, and it’s only then I see a rolling clothes rack to the right of the door, another two women standing beside it, and some very large portable cases.

  She holds her hand out, and I shake it. “I’m Millie Paulsen and these are my assistants, Jayne and Fran. We are your glam squad.” She gives a sassy wink. “Ledger has sent us to get you dressed and made up for your evening out tonight.”

  I glance back to Nita who is mouthing the words, Oh my God, in response.

  Personal stylists? Seriously? I’ve never experienced anything like this in my entire life.

  “I—I can’t aff—”

  “Honey, do you actually think a man is going to send us to your doorstep and expect you to pay for it? If that’s the case, it’s a requirement to dump his ass. But that isn’t the case with this.” She gives a nod and a quick smile. I have a feeling the woman is a force that no one disagrees with. “Shall we get started?” She may ask the question but is already moving past me and into the house before I respond.

  Jayne and Fran are right behind her, doing the heavy lifting by pushing the wardrobe cart and travel cases into the house. It’s only then that I see the gowns hanging from the rack. In the quick glimpse I get, their style covers the gamut and tells me whatever our destination is must be pretty fancy.

  I hold a hand to my stomach as nerves and excitement bloom.

  Holy shit.

  All this for me?

  Definitely the most romantic thing someone has done for me.

  The last few hours have felt like a blur. I’ve been primped and styled and glamorized in a way I never have been before. After a small fashion show where I tried on every dress, the blue beaded one with the sexy neckline and mid-thigh slit was voted as the favorite.

  And I was secretly happy about that as it was the one I felt the best in.

  Nita just sat back and observed the entire time, shaking her head and with a grin on her face.

  She looked like how I felt. Stunned. In disbelief. Adored.

  It’s a feeling every woman should feel at some point in their life . . . and a feeling I can’t remember having since . . . since that last night with Ledger fifteen years ago.

  The thought has me smiling softly and closing my eyes to prevent the tears that are welling from falling. The last thing I want to do is ruin my makeup. But how crazy is it that it’s been the same man, both times?

  When I’m certain the sentimental tears are gone, I open my eyes to find the driver of the car Ledger sent for me turning into the gates of the airport.

  I glance around, expecting him to stop me at the small terminal of the local airport, but he keeps driving.

  Through the gates.

  Across the tarmac.

  Up to a black jet with the words, Sharpe International Network, emblazoned on its tail end.

  “We’re here, miss,” my driver states as he pulls to a stop.

  Ledger

  She takes my breath away.

  It sounds cliché, but when Asher steps out of the SUV, she renders me breathless. The blue dress she opted for hugs her every curve. It’s sexy but classy—just like her. Her hair is in some kind of loose but intricate something or other that has me wondering how I’m going to keep my hands out of it and not mess it up when I kiss her.

  Because I will be kissing her.

  In fact, I don’t know how I’m going to keep my fucking hands off her.

  Her makeup only adds to the full effect. It’s definitely more than I’m used to her wearing, but she’s still my Asher.

  “Stunning.” It’s all I can say when she looks my way and her eyes hit mine. The smile she gives me. The look in her eyes. How her body intuitively turns to me. “Absolutely stunning. You. The dress. Everything.”

  When I press a kiss on her cheek, I swear my stomach flips over. Something about her, about this moment and bringing her to see my brothers tonight, overwhelms me.

  She’s incredible in every sense of the word. Asher in her everyday life stuns me. But she . . . fits. And I’m not sure what to do about that. Yet.

  How do I merge our two very different worlds together?

  Because I’m starting to see that it may become an absolute necessity.

  “Look at you,” she says, luckily breaking up my thoughts and tugging gently on the lapel of my tux. “Handsome as ever.”

  “Well,” I say, hands in my pockets as I rock back on my heels. “I know what a picnic in the field got me”—I shrug—“so I figured why not aim a little higher this time and see what happens?”

  She snorts, and it’s so very Asher—dressed to the nines and yet still so very much her. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

  I hold my elbow out for her to put her arm through. “Shall we?”

  “You’re not going to tell me where we’re going yet, are you?”

  “Nope.” I want her to see the skyline of the city she loves and see her reaction as she figures it out for herself.

  When I step to the side to let her up the stairs first, she stops and simply takes in the entirety of the jet in front of us. “Holy shit,” she murmurs.

  “What?”

  “This is normal for you, Ledger Sharpe, but this is insane to me. Utterly insane.”

  Her face is a mixture of awe and disbelief that has me rooted in place as she starts up the stairs to board.

  We’ve had a private jet at our disposal our whole lives. Many of the kids I grew up with at prep schools either owned one like us or used one when they traveled.

  I thought this would be a cool treat for us. To get away. To go to where I love. To just be together.

  Never in a million years did I think I was going to enjoy her taking in things, being spoiled by things I’d always taken for granted as much as I am right now.

  When I reach the top step and see her studying every single detail of the plane’s interior, I can’t stop smiling.

  She deserves so much more than this.

  “Hey, Asher?” I ask as I come up behind her and wrap my arms around her. “Promise me you’ll let me spoil you all night long?”

  She turns, and her grin is mischievous as hell. “On one condition . . .”

  The phrase stops me. Thoughts, ideas, and memories collide that have me smiling.

  “Oh yeah?” I ask, eyebrows raised, more than willing to meet whatever condition she’s going to offer. “What’s that?”

  “You let me join the mile-high club.”

  “Deal. Check, please. Done. Where do I sign up?”

  When she throws her head back and laughs, I know it’s a sound I could listen to forever.

  Asher

  The city’s skyline is simply incredible. I can’t stop staring at it, just as I couldn’t when I looked out the jet’s window and realized where Ledger was taking me.