Chapter Nine
Laurel
Laurel stared at the phone in her hand. That was weird. Not that he’d called. That was a socially acceptable thing, telephoning someone. Wasn’t it?
She sighed. Why did he have to say to Jack that he’d seen them on Saturday and that Rebecca was upset? She couldn’t blame him though, not really. It’s not like he knew the intricacies of the family relationships. At least he’d had the forethought to tell her about it.
There was no blue tick, so Rebecca was probably being very important in a meeting somewhere.
‘Laurel.’ Sylvie knocked on her office door. ‘You’ve got that call with the bank in half an hour, I’ve just emailed you those spreadsheets.’
‘Okay, thanks,’ Laurel said, clicking on her email. Sylvie hovered, tapping the folder in her hands nervously. ‘Are you alright, Sylvie?’
‘Yeah, can I?’ she motioned at the empty chair in front of Laurel’s desk.
‘Sure, of course.’
Sylvie scurried into her office and sat down in front of Laurel’s desk.
‘Um, it’s, well,’ she stuttered.
‘It’s okay, Sylvie,’ Laurel said, coming around and leaning on the front of the desk.
Sylvie looked at her anxiously.
‘I want to go do a Business Management degree, I’ve got all the information here, it’s expensive though, and I was hoping…’ she trailed off, watching Laurel pleadingly.
Well, that was unexpected.
‘Oh! Right, okay, yes, give me the information, let’s have a look,’ Laurel held her hand out for the folder and slid the tidy colour coded pages out, flicking through them quickly. Her eyes landed on the fee at the bottom of the last page. Wow. That was a lot.
‘I think I’d be good at it.’ Sylvie swallowed and wiped her hands on her thighs. ‘And it would be super beneficial for the farm, I could take a lot of work off of your hands, and I would only be out one day a week.’
Laurel’s mind whirred quickly. It was nearly unbelievable that she’d found the amazingly talented Sylvie in this little place anyway, but a Sylvie with business degree superpowers? Yes please. If Sylvie did this with the help of the farm, she’d be guaranteed to stay at least until the end of the degree which, part time, could be years.
‘I think it’s a fantastic idea, really good,’ she said.
Sylvie’s shoulders sagged in relief. Was she really that scary that Sylvie was nervous asking her? But it was a lot of money. She’d have to see if there were instalment options and whether they could cover Sylvie when she was out that one day a week.
‘I’ll have to look through it and see if it’s feasible money-wise, but I think it’s a really, really good idea.’
Sylvie grinned. ‘Thanks Laurel. I want to move my career on, but I love it here, so I thought this would be the best of both worlds?’
‘Yeah, I agree.’ Laurel smiled back at her.
‘The application deadline is next month, I’ve highlighted the date for you on the front sheet,’ Sylvie said. She would fly through this business course.
‘You’re an asset, Sylvie, you really are.’
Sylvie beamed and stood up.
‘Laurel, thank you so much, I knew you’d be supportive.’ She headed to the door. ‘I won’t let you, or Little Willow, down.’
‘I know you won’t, Sylvie,’ Laurel said.
Sylvie let out a squeal and skipped away. Well, that was a management win in Laurel’s book. It was a no-brainer really. If she could make it work financially, then Sylvie would be on that course. Laurel smiled to herself as she sat down behind her desk and added ‘Sylvie – Course’ to the bottom of her to do list. Everything else was on her computer, but she liked the satisfaction of drawing a nice biro line through items as she completed them.
Her phone buzzed.
Laurel’s grin quickly turned into a scowl.
It was kind of nice that he had wanted to talk to her, although she’d been unable to keep her annoyance tamped down. Really, he had no obligation to tell her where he was going to be, but a bit of courtesy wouldn’t go amiss. Laurel realised that and, like a proper grown up, had moved past it. She hadn’t lied, she did have a lot to do at the moment.
The meeting with the bank today would be her yes or no as to whether she’d receive the extra funding to buy Hibberts fields and consequently, whether she could save that little part of Lower Houghton from being overdeveloped by big building companies.
Because that was another thing playing on her mind. Alex. Surely he couldn’t still be as big of a douche as he was ten years ago?
Oh god, she’d pressed send before her mind had caught up. How unprofessional was that? Considering Alex was still Nate’s best friend as well. Christ. She watched those dots move back and forth across the screen.
Ha. Like he didn’t know. She scowled at the phone. Why had she even said that? It was a written invitation to bring to the surface everything that she had worked so hard to push all the way down.
Whatever. She didn’t have the head space to think about Nate Daley right now.
Laurel checked her makeup and opened the secure meeting website with the bank. She pasted on a smile as her business manager joined the meeting.
Nate
Laurel looked both flustered and resigned when she sat down at his table, plopping a teapot and mismatched cup and saucer down in front of her.
‘So, you do drink tea,’ he said.
Laurel nodded slowly.
‘I do drink tea, and I drink peppermint tea. Just not when it’s boiling hot in my office,’ she said, sitting back in her chair and sighing.
‘How was your meeting?’
She was wan and deflated.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Oh, yeah, it was fine,’ Laurel said, pulling her lips into a tight smile. ‘Fine,’ she repeated, pouring a tiny drop of tea into her cup to see if it had steeped long enough. Apparently not.
‘Hey, if something is going on, you can talk to me about it if you want,’ he said, leaning towards her across the table. ‘I’m sorry about talking to Jack as well, didn’t mean to put my foot in it.’
It was an unthinking movement. He reached across the table to graze her arm with his fingertips. Laurel’s eyes rested where his skin touched hers, before flicking her eyes up to his. There was a swirling warmth in the pit of his stomach and a definite tightening of his trousers because the way her teeth sank into her bottom lip made all sort of dirty, filthy, things flash through his mind.
But this was Laurel, they were getting on, and he didn’t want to ruin that for a quick roll in the hay. He leaned back in his chair, picking up his coffee cup with both hands. No touching.
‘Yeah, don’t worry about it, you weren’t to know.’ She flashed him a tight smile. ‘It’s just money stuff. There’s never enough is there?’
‘No, there isn’t,’ he said.
‘Tell me about the site. Any finds? Do you think Alex will be happy? Is there anything I can do?’ Her brow creased anxiously and he frowned. He didn’t want her to worry about stuff like that.
‘Site is going well, we’ve got a few more finds, there’s definitely more under there. I’m having Harold back to expand the trenches soon,’ he said, sipping his coffee.
Laurel nodded and poured her tea. She looked up at him, as if wondering how much to tell him. With Rebecca and Jack’s minefield relationship, he was pretty sure Laurel wouldn’t want to burden them with whatever was going on, and she probably needed someone to vent to. He raised his eyebrows, waiting.
‘I need this to work,’ she started. ‘I need Alex to be impressed, I need his recommendations for funding.’
‘Is the farm in trouble?’
‘No, no, nothing like that,’ she said with a smile. ‘It’s just not as financially healthy as I would like it to be, and that funding would be very welcome.’
Nate nodded for her to continue.
‘It’s like all businesses, I suppose. You never get all the money you ask for, and there’s always unexpected costs. We’re not developing the site field, we’re not getting as much income from the bunkhouses this year because we’ve given them to the dig at cost.’ She shook her head slightly. ‘It’s just tighter than I would like.’
He didn’t have any sage advice about running a business or a farm, so he wisely kept quiet.
‘Anyway,’ she said, swallowing. ‘Tell me about Alex tomorrow, what can I do to help?’
‘Alex is arriving about eleven. I’ll show him the site, we’ll have lunch here and then we’ll head up to your office, if you don’t mind, so we can go through some details?’
Laurel set her teacup daintily back in the saucer. ‘Yeah, of course. I’ll make myself scarce tomorrow afternoon.’
‘No, it’s okay, you should be there as well.’
Laurel’s nose turned up. ‘Okay, if you think so?’
‘Yeah, why not?’ Nate shrugged at her.
‘You guys still close?’ she asked, her face neutral.
Nate sipped his drink. ‘Not as much as we used to be. But yeah, I suppose.’
‘Oh.’ Her eyes flicked around the cafe before she sighed. ‘I mean, he was a bit of a dick when we were at university.’
‘I get what you mean, but he’s a good guy underneath. He really is,’ Nate said, unsure why he was defending Alex. Habit probably. ‘You should definitely meet him. You’re the face of Little Willow Farm after all.’
She nearly choked on her tea.
‘Oh god, am I? I’m pretty sure that’s my dad. Or Jack. It’s not me, is it?’
‘Of course it’s you.’ That much was obvious. Well, it was to him anyway. ‘You’re the lifeblood of this place. Absolutely nothing would get done without you.’
A smile lit up her face. Not a little ‘yeah whatever’ smile, but a big, radiant, amazing smile and his breath caught in his throat. She was glowing, beaming, and it was him who had made her so happy.
‘Oh, I wanted to run something past you,’ Laurel said, interrupting his thoughts.
‘Oh yeah?’ He would give her literally anything she wanted to see that smile again.
‘I’ve been thinking about asking Robin if the dig could use his house.
He’s got a three-bedroomed house just sitting there that he uses probably once a week, maybe less.’ She was looking at him earnestly, and he had to concentrate hard on her words, not the movement of her mouth.
‘He usually stays with my dad, and if you guys are going to be here longer, then it might be best if you have some more space?’
Good god yes. Yes please. A bedroom, even in a shared house, would be better than the hell he was currently living in.
‘Only if you’re sure? I wouldn’t want to kick Robin out of his house?’ Nate said.
‘I mean, how long are you going to be here for?’ She traced the rim of her teacup with her finger. ‘Would it be worth it?’
Was she asking because of the house, or was she asking because of him?
‘Certainly another couple of months or so, maybe longer. It would be worth it,’ he said, watching her pulse jump haphazardly in her neck.
‘Oh right, okay.’ Laurel glanced away, and then smiled back at him. ‘Well, then it would probably be worth being somewhere more comfortable then.’
He wasn’t entirely sure they were still talking about Robin’s house, but he grinned.
‘Then it’s a deal. Let me know when you want us to move.’
Laurel
Cesspit Alex was on her farm.
She hadn’t talked to him yet, but she’d seen Nate greet him at the car park and lead him up to the site.
So, Nate was going to be around for at least another couple of months, possibly longer.
Longer would be good, because it would mean that they had found something substantial.
Longer would also be good because she’d get to ogle his obnoxious legs for a little longer.
And that was it.
Thank the lord that Nate had been called to deal with Anwar that night at the pub, before she’d finished her sentence and invited him home with her.
She wasn’t sure which would have been more mortifying, being turned down or having a one night stand and having to see him every day because honestly, he hadn’t given her any indication that he was the least bit interested in her.
Yeah, she’d caught lust in his eyes (she thought), but everyone felt a little fruity after a couple of drinks, didn’t they?
He was just being a good, supportive friend, showing an interest in the farm.
Getting to know her.
That was it, and that was all it would ever be.
It would probably be best for Laurel to squash those pesky feelings once and for all.
Done and dusted, so her heart didn’t get trampled.
Jack had avoided her this morning, and Laurel was absolutely fine with that.
Rebecca said last night that he’d gone to the pub and then went straight to bed when he got home, out again at 4:30am for morning milking.
It wasn’t just Laurel he was avoiding, it seemed.
They were arguing, and Jack was being as pig-headed as ever.
She hoped he’d see reason soon enough, or at least demonstrate some basic understanding of Rebecca’s position.
She tucked her hair behind her ears.
She needed Cesspit Alex.
It wasn’t just Nate and the dig who would benefit from Alex’s funding recommendation, but Little Willow Farm as well.
The British Archaeological Society had big dick energy; if they said ‘Little Willow Farm is a site worthy of investment’, English Heritage, the university, third sector bodies and other private funders would be falling all over themselves to throw money at the dig and the farm.
With the BAS standing firmly behind the dig, Little Willow would be eligible to receive compensation for the loss of their field from English Heritage.
They’d be eligible for development grants, for eco-tourism grants, historical preservation grants.
But only if BAS say ‘we endorse this site’.
That compensation alone would make all kinds of things run smoother, her dreams be less anxiety filled and monthly meetings with the bank not so fraught. Laurel hadn’t been granted the funding for Hibbert’s fields, so who knows where she was going to pull that money out from. It was a massive set back if she was going to stop the gentrification of Lower Houghton because she, and let’s face it, the rest of the town as well, didn’t want holiday McMansions for rich Londoners on their doorstep.
Impressing Cesspit Alex today was a massive deal. He was the gatekeeper for everything.
She took a last glance around the office to check that everything was in its place. Nate’s flipchart was propped expectantly by the wall, and his laptop was stacked neatly on top of piles of papers, tabbed with different neon colours.
‘So, this is where the magic happens, is it?’ She heard him before she saw him and steeled herself.
Alex Woollard strode into her office, Nate closing the door after them both.
He was still handsome and solid even though his blond hair was thinning slightly and streaked with grey. His broad shoulders and rugby player legs hinted at exercise, and his carefully cultivated stubble suggested someone vainly chasing youth.
Laurel moved around to the front of her desk. ‘Alex, hi.’ She held her hand out to him and he pumped it in an effusive handshake.
‘Ah yes, Laurel Fletcher,’ he said, eyes flitting over her. ‘I remember you.’
Of course he did.
‘I remember you too,’ she said, a smile not quite reaching her eyes.
He scrunched up his nose.
‘Smells of shit in here,’ he said, looking around. ‘Can you close the window?’
His question hung heavily in the air. Laurel glanced at Nate, who coughed and headed to the conference table. Alex swung around, hungrily absorbing everything in her office. He was too big for this room, took up too much space. His jacket was ever so slightly too tight across the shoulders.
‘So, Alex,’ she started, ‘what do you think of the site?’
‘Well, could be better, I suppose,’ he said, tucking his hands in his jeans pocket and rocking back on his heels. ‘Of course, more finds would be beneficial, Nate, wouldn’t it? And you know, it being somewhere not as backwater-y as this shithole?’
How. Fucking. Rude.
Laurel clenched her jaw and glanced at Nate, who was watching their exchange with wide eyes.
‘It’s promising, though?’ she pushed.
Alex blew out an exasperated breath and shrugged.
‘Sure, why not.’ He smiled like a viper.
‘I’d be happy to give you a tour of the rest of the farm if you’d like, show you how we could accommodate more visitors, why we’d be perfect for investment.’ Because without his recommendation for funding, she wouldn’t be able to buy Hibbert’s fields and her vision for Lower Houghton would be shattered and broken.
‘Nah, I’ve seen all I need to,’ he said, his eyes raking down her.
Laurel willed herself not to cringe. She was not having a good reaction to Alex Woollard.
Alex turned his back and stretched out in one of the conference chairs, making himself at home. In her office. On her farm. In her life.
She clenched her jaw.
Alex linked his fingers behind his thinning hair.
‘Mine is black coffee, four sugars,’ he called vaguely in her direction.
Laurel’s eyes widened in anger and heat rose in her face, blood throbbing in her temples, threatening to spill out in a tirade of ‘get it your fucking self’.
Nate caught her eye and she couldn’t tell whether he was pleading with her or warning her. Either way it was inappropriate, and confirmed that Alex Woollard was the same self-centred, arrogant fuck he had been ten years ago.
‘I’ll go, I need a coffee. Peppermint tea?’ he asked her as he passed.
She nodded abruptly. It was a peace offering, it was an apology, a reminder that not everyone was as much of a dick as Cesspit Alex.
Laurel tried a different tack.
‘Nate tells me this is your first senior liaison position. Congratulations,’ she said, perching on the edge of her desk.
‘Oh yeah,’ he glanced over at her. ‘My first official position, but I’ve run lead on loads of sites, so none of this is new to me,’ he said, dismissively, tapping away on his phone.
Mmm hmm, neither was being a douche, obviously.
Alex threw the device on the table and swivelled in his chair to look at her with narrowed eyes.
‘So, you and the good doctor, then? Just like old times?’ He smirked.
Laurel’s heart plummeted.
‘What?’
Alex scoffed.
‘Come on, don’t tell me that you don’t still want to jump his bones?’
‘What business is my personal life of yours?’ Laurel was frosty. How goddamned unprofessional. Exactly what had Nate told him?
‘Oh none, none at all,’ he said. ‘But if you want my advice…’ She did not want his advice. ‘I wouldn’t bother.’ Alex picked at his short nails. ‘I mean, you’re not exactly his type, are you?’
She knew he was winding her up, but she couldn’t help herself.
‘Oh?’
‘Don’t take this the wrong way,’ he said, conspiratorially, leaning towards her, ‘but you’re just a small town girl. You work on a farm.’
Laurel crossed her arms across her chest, fighting to keep her eyebrows down. ‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘Well, Nate’s a big picture kind of guy. He’s after exciting, exotic, unusual.’ Alex was describing Lucia. ‘You know, and that’s just not you, is it?’ She did know, and it wasn’t her.
‘I mean, you’d be a great little diversion.’
Her jaw dropped.
Alex whipped a hand to his mouth mockingly. ‘Oops, sorry, can’t say stuff like that, can I?’
Laurel cleared her throat. What was even happening here? It was all so surreal.
‘I’m just saying, you’re not really…’ he looked around for inspiration, ‘his type.’
Alex gave her a condescending, closed-lipped smile.
‘He goes for stunningly attractive, intelligent women.’
What. The. Fuck.
This was a horrifying repeat of the last conversation she and Alex had had ten years ago. Except last time, Alex was sitting opposite her in the student union bar. He had been disgustingly, shatteringly harsh. So had Nate for sending Alex to talk to her, rather than having the guts to talk to her himself. But she and Nate had put things behind them and started getting to know each other. Alex didn’t seem inclined to do the same.
But Laurel wasn’t twenty anymore, and she didn’t have to put up with Alex’s shit. She did, however, have to get him onside for his financial recommendation. She ground her teeth.
‘I think it’s so admirable how far you go for your friend, admirable that you look out for him so much, after all this time,’ she said, laying it on thick. ‘I mean, what an amazing person you must be to be constantly thinking of Nate and his life.’ She shook her head slightly. ‘I don’t know how you do it, you must love him very much.’
Laurel pushed up from the desk and turned to grab some papers and her phone, her heart a military march in her ears. Didn’t matter what papers, just some papers, anything.
Alex made some kind of throaty, choking, coughing sound. ‘I’m not gay, you know,’ he said, wide eyed and shocked.
‘Oh.’ Laurel looked at him with feigned surprise. ‘I would never presume to know you that well,’ she said with a smile.
‘I like women,’ he said scathingly. ‘I’m just looking out for my friend.’
What a fragile little man Alex Woollard was.
‘Just doing what any good friend would do,’ Laurel commented and headed for the door, turning back to Alex before opening it. ‘I’ll be around if you want that tour, or if you need anything else. I really want to make this work.’
Laurel gave him a genuine smile. She desperately needed his recommendation, but he also needed to know that he couldn’t get away with saying things like that. It wasn’t the fifties, they weren’t twenty, and there was no tolerance for that in the workplace. Although, she was just as bad as him, goading and baiting him, being petty and immature.
Little Willow Farm needed this funding, and Laurel hoped to God that she hadn’t fucked it up.