“I don’t know how not. Everyone else does. But it doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate an attractive woman, and there is no one as attractive as Abby. I still think you’re stupid for keeping that in Friendsville. Either that, or maybe Little Zain doesn’t work?”
Zain coughed in surprise. “Little Zain works just fine, thank you. But he's not for Abby. First, Ahmed would cut Little Zain off. Second, just no. She’s a sister to me. You know that.”
“Your loss. So back to business. This is the last interpreter we need. Everything else is taken care of and on track for Monday. Your welcome speech and itinerary has been sent off to each attendee. Your parents will arrive tomorrow and will only be around if you need them. Otherwise, they promised to stay out of the way.”
Zain looked skeptically at Veronica. “Have you ever known my mom to stay out of anything?”
Veronica shrugged. “There’s a first time for everything.”
Tires squealed and dirt billowed as a silver Aston Martin flew down the farm’s lane. “I swear I gave Abby the keys to the SUV. I’ll be so pissed if she hotwired my sports car,” Zain groaned as the silver dot of a car disappeared down the road. “Now, let’s practice my speech and my talking points before I meet up with my friends for dinner.”
*
Mila stepped off the plane to pictures of horses lining the airport wall. She followed the other passengers as they headed down the escalator toward baggage claim. There weren’t many people in the airport, and it was easy to see that no one was waiting for her in the baggage claim. She stood looking around for her driver as the buzzer sounded for the luggage.
People began grabbing their bags and heading out the sliding glass doors, yet Mila stood waiting. And waiting. And waiting. Lost luggage days before one of the biggest jobs of her life. Could this get any worse?
Mila filed her claim with the airline and stepped outside to find a cab. There were none. Not a single cab lined-up waiting for a fare. Instead there were plenty of trucks and an astonishing sports car with a woman leaning against the door. Mila blinked; this girl looked familiar. The woman lowered her aviator sunglasses and Mila knew exactly who it was by the shocking blue eyes—Abigail Mueez.
“Are you Mila?” Abigail called out.
“Sure am,” Mila said as she hiked her computer bag and purse over her shoulder.
“I’m Abigail—”
“Mueez. Yes, I know.”
Mila saw her blue eyes maintain a steady gaze, but her mouth crinkled with a smile.
“Glad to see I’ve earned a reputation. Where are your bags?”
Mila let out a long breath. “Lost.”
“Bummer. I can hook you up until they find your clothes.” Abby opened the door to the Aston Martin and walked around to the driver’s door.
“This is your car?” Mila asked without bothering to hide her envy.
“I wish. I borrowed Zain’s.”
Of course she did. If Mila was Zain’s girlfriend, she’d drive this car every chance she got, too. Mila turned to place her computer bag behind her seat and froze. There was a massive gun lying there. Crap. She had been right. The town was dangerous.
“You know it’s illegal to have a firearm at an airport, right?” Mila asked slowly as she placed her hand on the door handle in case she needed to make a quick escape.
Abby shrugged. “No biggie. I know people. Just shove that out of the way. It’s not loaded,” Abby said casually as she pushed the gun farther back to make room for Mila’s computer bag.
“Is Keeneston dangerous?”
Abby laughed. “Keeneston? Dangerous? Yeah, right.”
Mila didn’t have a chance to ask more questions. She gripped the door as Abby zoomed along the curving country roads. It had only taken minutes for the city of Lexington to transition into rolling hills of farmland. They flew by horses and cows as Abby navigated her way through the countryside.
“Here we are,” Abby smiled as a small town appeared. “This is Main Street.”
It looked just like the picture. Old buildings with multiple storefronts, separated by a few narrow alleyways, lined the street. They were painted soft shades of tan, yellow, gray, blue, and red. Flowers overflowed in pots, hanging from the light posts, and people kept on waving at them.
“I bet you get a lot of attention in a small town with a car like this. They’re all waving at you,” Mila said as they passed another friendly face.
“It’s not the car. It's just Keeneston. I grew up here. I know everyone. They’re just saying hi. Abby turned down the only other street Mila saw in the town. “This is Maple Street. It’s where you will be staying. It’s just a short walk to the Blossom Café, the best and only food around. Starting on Monday, they will be running a car service from there as well. That’s where you will go to catch a ride out to the farm.”
“Can’t I just call a taxi?” Mila asked as they came to a stop in front of a beautiful, old white Victorian house surrounded with roses and a large porch.
Abby laughed again. “We don’t have any taxis in Keeneston. A bunch of volunteers will be driving for people here for the summit. And let me give you some advice: if my brother Kale offers to drive you, suddenly decide to do anything else. He may be smarter than anyone in town when it comes to computers, but he’s a horrible driver. And don’t get me started on the twins, Porter and Parker. Now, this is where you and the rest of the interpreters and some staff are staying.”
“It’s beautiful,” Mila said as she took in the grand old house.
“Poppy Meadows runs the place for Miss Lily. The Rose sisters are something of an institution. You’ll meet them soon, I’m sure. You better hurry and check in, though. In a couple of minutes, Poppy is going to have to get to the café to help her sister, Zinnia, with the dinner rush. That’s where I want you to come in about an hour, and I’ll get you hooked up with some clothes. What size are you?”
“I’m a ten, much bigger than you.”
“No worries. See you soon and welcome to Keeneston.”
“Welcome to Keeneston!” the short, curvy reddish blond woman said with a smile as Mila walked inside the bed and breakfast. “Are you Ms. Thiessen?”
Mila nodded.
“Welcome! I’m Poppy. Where’s your luggage, hon?”
“Lost, but Abby said something about borrowing her clothes. I would rather go to the mall. Is there one nearby?”
“A mall? Goodness no, but if Abby said she’ll help you out, she will. Well now, let me take you to your room and you can freshen up. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner are served at the Blossom Café. We will have muffins and fruit here if you want a lighter meal.”
Poppy chattered on happily as they began to climb the sweeping staircase. “On this floor is where the interpreters and staff from Surman, Tahjad, and France are staying.” Poppy pointed out rooms cheerfully as they continued to climb. “And this floor has interpreters from India, Saudi Arabia, and some ladies from the Philippines.”
Mila had to suck in a deep breath as the stairs had transitioned from sweeping, to regular, and now to a small winding metal staircase against the back wall. “Where exactly is my room?”
Poppy tried to smile energetically, but there was a slight look of guilt on her face as she started climbing around the spiral metal staircase. “Well, we are kind of out of normal rooms. We are in the process of renovating the attic. Don’t worry, though, it’s lovely!”