Chapter 10
Nick and Marc were taking instructions from Sophie when Devon got a call about the property. It was odd that it came on her cell phone, but she picked it up anyway.
“Ms. Brandeburg, we’ve never met,” the heavily accented voice on the other end of the line continued, “but I represent an interested party in your nursery listing.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m sorry, but I didn’t get your name.”
“Ulysses Silva. I was wondering if I could come by later this afternoon.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Silva. As the listing says, we’re not open for showings until after the weekend. We’re getting everything ready for showing.”
“But I must insist. I believe my client wants to make an offer tonight.”
“Well, that won’t be possible. I’d be happy to entertain an offer, but we want to give the property the right exposure, and right now it doesn’t look as good as it will.”
“What if you don’t have to do all that work? What if my client will do all the cleanup?”
Devon was wary of an offer from a broker she didn’t know. And she never liked it when the buyer was doing all the pushing. Sophie was indeed in a financial bind, as she’d finally admitted to her and Nick this morning, but there wasn’t any reason to make her appear desperate.
“I’ll talk to my client. Can I reach you back at this number?”
“Please understand, Ms. Brandeburg, we are very interested in the property and are willing to pay significantly more than the asking price for it.”
That got Devon’s attention.
“I see. Well let me speak to her, and I’ll call you back later this afternoon if I can.”
“I understand she is very ill.”
This definitely raised hackles on Devon’s neck. “That’s not something I’m willing to discuss, Mr. Silva. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m busy getting ready for our big sale.”
“Sale?”
“We’re having a big plant sale extravaganza this weekend. Get rid of all the inventory and declutter what’s here.”
“You are closing down the sales office, then?”
“Well, not right away, but yes, unless a new owner wants to keep everything.”
“This is a possibility.”
Somehow, Devon didn’t trust this caller. But she had to discuss the next right action with Sophie, and perhaps Nick too. The eagerness of this man’s desire for the property without asking any of the questions the potential buyers usually asked—like the output of the well, the profit and loss of the business, or the value of the inventory—felt off. Her gut feeling was that this buyer wasn’t real. They hadn’t even gotten the pest report, or well and septic testing.
“You know we’ve had a lot of interest.”
“That surprises me.”
“Well, we have. I need to go. You will hear from me this afternoon.” Devon hung up.
She decided to go speak with Sophie, who was outside with Nick and Marc, planning out the scope of work.
“Those annuals are looking pretty sad. We can put a little fish emulsion on them and see if they perk up. Anything that doesn’t, gets put in the trash bin behind the shop. Garbage pickup is on Fridays, thank God. Haven’t filled it in months.”
She was instructing for Marc to move wooden boxed trees when Nick noted the look on Devon’s face.
“Something wrong?”
“I just got the strangest call. The guy says he has a buyer,” Devon began, but Sophie overheard and had turned.
“Already?” Sophie exclaimed.
“Yes. He wants to come over today. I told him we were getting ready for a big cleanup, but he was rather obnoxious about coming over before anyone else could.”
Sophie straightened, sparks shooting out of her eyes. “Did he have an accent?” she demanded.
Devon forced herself not to back away from Sophie’s intensity. “Yes, he did.”
“You know who I’ll bet it is?” Sophie had her hands on her hips. “That dipshit neighbor of mine.” She pointed to the vineyard on her right. “He’s been after me to sell for a couple of years now.”
“Really? Sophie, you never told me about this. He’s got practically the whole valley. Having this strip of land wouldn’t do him any good,” Nick added.
“I’ve got a commercial well, hundred gallons a minute. I think he wants the water for his vineyard.”
Devon nodded. “I didn’t think of that. Doesn’t he have water on his land?”
“You go over there and look at the wells he’s dug as close to the property line as possible. He’s been trying to tap into mine for months now. I’m guessing he hasn’t succeeded. And he can’t improve or expand his vineyard without more water.”
Nick whistled. “So the water rights are more valuable than the property? Maybe we need to rethink this, Devon.”
“It’s just one factor, but isn’t the whole thing,” Devon began. “I think we should do what gives us the best opportunities to reach the largest number of potential buyers. Putting our eggs in one basket doesn’t seem wise. I say we stay the course, but Sophie, it’s up to you.”
“It will be a cold day in hell before I’d ever sell to that a*shole. He hasn’t played nice since he bought the vineyard. A bully, if you ask me.”
“I’ll bet that’s what he’s after, Soph. That might pay off for you. Why not use it for your advantage?” Nick had his hands on his hips, the sunlight doing all kinds of sparkly things to the sweat around his collar and his upper lip.
“And that means he’ll level this place. I’d like to save it for someone who will work it, turn it into the beautiful nursery I envisioned,” Sophie said.
“But Soph,” Nick began, “who cares if he’ll give you a good price?”
“I don’t care about a good price. I just want enough to pay the debts and a little extra for you two. It’s not like I’m going to be around here for ten years to spend it?”
Nick nodded his head and looked at Devon. She did, after all, have a point. This was the story of Sophie’s life. Too stubborn and principled to live in society without rocking the boat and occasionally getting tossed overboard.
But that was why Devon loved her so much.
They’d been working all day repairing the ripped sunshade and tossing dead plants. Devon was wearing one of Nick’s old SEAL Team 3 hats. The guys ordered a pizza from a local delivery, with a salad for Devon. Sophie tried a little cottage cheese, but Devon found her throwing it up behind one of the sheds an hour later.
They had a pile of plastic containers and six-packs several feet tall. Marc was shoveling the dead plant material into a wheelbarrow. Sophie had been watering nonstop, and Devon knew something was bothering her.
Devon and Nick were sorting plants and deadheading.
“Never thought I’d enjoy doing this kind of work,” he said.
“Know what you mean. Even with the gloves, though, my hands are a mess.”
“I rather like your hands, Miss Devon.”
“So now it’s Miss Devon?” she said tilting her cap up off her forehead. “I guess that’s a good compromise. Better than Dev, anyway.”
“Sort of makes you sound matronly, though, doesn’t it?” Nick said.
Devon threw a dead plastic pony pack at him that landed squarely in the middle of his back.
“Watch it,” she said. But then she smiled and was rewarded when he returned it.“So, does this count as one of our dates, Devon?”
“I’d say no.”
“Ah, so she wants to spend more time with me. That’s a very good sign.”
She stopped at that one. They were having fun together. The banter was easy. The work wasn’t exactly romantic, but she was actually having fun getting dirty and doing physical labor. And now Nick was hinting that he’d like it if she wanted to spend more time with him.
Is this what you want?
Yes, something like that, she thought. Someone she could just be with without pretense.
“So, are you available for dinner tonight, Miss Devon?”
“I think it could be arranged.”
“You pick the place. So much has changed here in Sonoma County. I wouldn’t know where to take you.”
Marc had come up behind Sophie, scooped her up and put her in the empty wheelbarrow and was wheeling her around the nursery. Sophie was screaming at the top of her lungs, and laughing. Marc wheeled her around back and out of eyesight.
Devon and Nick exchanged glances. “Did I miss something while we were working?” she asked.
Nick took off his gloves and walked towards Devon. He stopped a little closer than he would have before, thighs touching hers. In a swift move, he’d removed her cap, allowing her hair to fall all about her shoulders. “I feel the need to continue your training, Miss Devon.” His voice was low and hoarse.
Devon’s heart picked up and the thrill that tingled down her spine when he placed his big arm around her waist and drew her to him, into him, fully pressing all of her against his firm body so gently but with such confidence, it made her knees wobble.
“Lesson number two,” he whispered to her lips just before he claimed them.
She’d nearly lost her balance but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to let her fall. She clung to him as she feasted on his manly passion. He was showing her his need. Her lips opened and his tongue slipped inside, finding hers. She couldn’t help but moan and sink into him further.
Their lips parted but he remained holding her pressed against him. “I just couldn’t help myself,” he said as he kissed her neck. “Do you forgive me?”
With her arms wrapped around his neck and her face pressed against his, she realized she was delighted this big strong man wanted to kiss her. “Only if you’ll agree to kiss me again.”
“Gladly,” he said as he examined her face. He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. Slowly he inhaled and lowered his lips on hers.
So many things tumbled through her mind. She thought about how safe she felt for the first time ever. Something about the chemistry between them made her want to please him. She’d been stealing glances all afternoon and a couple of times she’d caught him doing the same. The ache deep down inside her was hard to miss.
His left hand rubbed down her waist, and lower. He gently caressed her bottom and then pressed her closer to his groin. His hand slid up and down her thigh, then up to her waistband and under her shirt. She felt the warmth of his fingers as they squeezed her breast through her bra. His fingers went to probe under the silky fabric and he found her nipple and squeezed it. He was kissing her neck and she found herself whispering, “Yes.” She rubbed her face against his cheek, and then whispered again, “Yes, please,” into his ear.
She knew that when she didn’t make him stop she’d opened the doorway to more experimentation, and the idea thrilled her. Everything about him told her she could trust him. She could rely on him. She could—care—for him.
Was that the word?
Maybe tonight it would happen. That milestone in becoming a woman, the one they say everyone remembers. She’d never felt so ready.
His hand slipped down the front of her jeans and she jerked.
“Sorry,” he whispered. “Got a little ahead of myself,” he said as he removed his hand.
She took his hand in hers and kissed it. She placed it back on her breast, outside the shirt. “I’m not used to all this. It’s all new, Nick.”
They stared into each other’s eyes. She knew she could trust him.
“Teach me, Nick. Show me.”
She saw he took her meaning. His smile started with the little crease at the right of his lips, then spread to the other side. His eyes danced as he said, “With pleasure.”
She halfway expected that he would pick her up just like Marc had picked up Sophie, but the sound of tires on the gravel got her attention.
A large, sleek, black Mercedes barreled up the road and parked at an angle behind Nick’s yellow Hummer. The windows were tinted. A suited driver got out and opened the rear door for someone.
Nick and Devon dropped their hands and stepped apart. She put her hair back up in the cap and brushed errant wisps of hair from her face with her fingertips.
The short man emerging from the car had mean eyes. A small pencil moustache accentuated thin lips. His black hair was worn slicked back and was a bit too long over the collar for the shiny dark blue business suit he wore. The top button on his shirt was undone and he didn’t wear a tie.
“Am I interrupting anything, Ms. Brandeburg?” the man said in the clipped accent of the Broker who’d called her this afternoon.
“I’d say you’re trespassing, Mr. Silva. I told you I’d call you.”
“I have my client in the car. She’d like to see the property right now.
“She?” Devon wondered if Sophie had gotten it right about the new owner. She hadn’t said anything about a woman owner.
“Miss Chun?” he called to the passenger side of the back seat.
Devon stepped forward and held out her palms. “Wait just a minute here. You have not received permission to look at the property.”
“But it’s listed.”
“Read the remarks. You subscribe to MLS I’m sure.”
“I told you she wanted to see it today. I think it could be worth your while to let her do so.”
“No,” came the sound from Devon’s right. “Get the hell off my property. I do not give you permission to show it.” Sophie was mad, something Devon rarely saw in her.
“Miss Dunn, please, we’re trying to help you out here,” Silva said with syrupy sweetness.
“Your kind of help I don’t need.” She picked up a piece of scrap two-by-four, holding it like a baseball bat. “Unless you want to get a couple of your windows broken, stay off my property.”
Silva was pissed. Sick or no, Sophie raised the board with the full intention of bringing it down on the car, or its passengers. The muscled driver looked uncomfortable and Devon noticed he’d unbuttoned his jacket. Silva slithered back into the passenger seat and closed his own door with a slam. The driver got back to the wheel and started the motor.
As the shiny obsidian vehicle began to pull out of the driveway, Silva rolled down his window. “I don’t have time for stupid games like this, and neither do you.”
With that, the car sped down the road and onto the highway.