Gia felt herself break into a sweat at the heat pumping off of them. If anything were to spontaneously combust, it would be Jax and Joey. Someday.
Carter was grinning until Joey elbowed him in the ribs. His breath wooshed out of him and Aurora giggled.
“Oh, you think that’s funny, pipsqueak?” He grabbed her and tossed the giggling girl over his shoulder.
“Watch out, she’s a puker,” Evan warned.
Carter carefully sat Aurora back on her feet.
“Again, Car! Please?” she begged.
“When did you last eat?” he asked her.
“Just over an hour ago. You’re probably out of the projectile zone,” Gia reassured him.
They watched as Jax thundered across the riding ring on a black thoroughbred. Gia held her breath as they approached a four-foot jump. The horse cleared it cleanly without a hitch in his stride and galloped off through the open pasture gate.
“Whoa,” Evan whispered.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Gia offered to Joey.
Joey stared holes in the back of Jax’s shirt until he and Canon disappeared over a ridge. She shook her head grimly. “I got this.”
Gia reluctantly left her children in Carter and Joey’s hands after Carter promised to text her pictures and wandered back to the farm.
She found Summer on the second floor of the barn. The office was done, finished by Calvin’s team with a few Pierce touches. Everything was white and bright. The new windows on either end of the floor let in a flood of natural light. The long wall across from the stairs was done entirely in white shiplap. The wide-plank floor, replete with decades of scars, had been sanded down and stained light.
Summer, in a cozy cowl neck sweater and leggings, sat behind a desk of reclaimed wood angled out from the corner to get a good look out the large window. Bookcases in white wood were built in over the shiplap and a large flat screen TV hung in front of a long, counter-height table of the same wood as Summer’s desk. Instead of chairs, six bar stools with graceful metal legs surrounded the table.
“Oh, good! You’re here,” Summer said by way of a greeting. “What do you think of the layout for the website?”
She clicked a button and the TV screen on the wall lit up.
Gia moved closer to examine it.
She could hear Summer’s pen tapping a frantic beat on her desk.
The design was clean, light. Large stock photos representing features rotated in and out on the home screen.
The navigation menu reminded Gia of the colorful chalkboard menus in coffee shops and juice bars.
She turned, grinned. “It’s perfect. The whole thing says healthy and happy in a really clean way. What are you doing about photography?”
Summer drummed a slower beat on her desk. “My friend and brilliant photographer Niko is coming in for the wedding and I’m hoping to abscond his services for a day or two and convince him to contribute. I’ve got most of the January features nailed down, and some of those will need freelancer art. The rest we can pay for stock art.”
“How can I help?” Gia asked.
“I wanted to talk to you about a thirty-day yoga challenge idea.”
“Are you thinking about releasing it in one big chunk, one pose at a time, or amp up the difficulty as the month wears on?”
Summer pointed her pen at Gia. “I knew I was a genius when I hired you! I like the amping up the difficulty as the month goes on. Why don’t you take a stab at it and we’ll look at it next week? Then we can have Niko shoot you when he’s here. Stills and video, I think.”
“Shoot me? Wouldn’t it be better with a model?”
Summer leveled her gaze at her. “Gia, where are we going to find a model who’s as good at yoga as you are? You are the expert. Plus, you’re gorgeous.”
Gia fanned herself. “Fine, twist my arm with compliments. I’ll start with a handful of basic poses and then as it progresses I’ll add more to it. Modifications, holding the poses longer, adding in more difficult postures. And then at the end we can have a full class that readers can watch online.”
Summer nodded. “I love it. I think that’s perfect. Moving on!”
She stood up and herded Gia toward another workstation. “This is yours,” she said. “Given your boundless energy, Carter designed it to go from normal height to standing.”
“You guys made me a desk?” Gia clasped her hands together over her heart.
“I may be a horrible boss, but I wouldn’t make you work on the floor,” Summer teased. “Now listen, you already have a Thrive email account set up and I’ve sent you all the drafts for the features that are done. I need you to give the piece on family-based new year’s resolutions an extra good look because these hormones have me sobbing every time in the first paragraph.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” Gia said, giving her a mock salute.
“And when you’re done with that I need some ideas for health-ish features for February and March. And help yourself to coffee and water,” she said pointing at the counter and cabinets on the far wall.