Chapter 15
I spent most of my day avoiding Dial’s questions about my weekend. If she knew I spent the time with Fancy, she would throw a fit, and I didn’t want to deal with that. Normally, I showed up at Figs and Twine at least once during the weekend, even though Saturday and Sunday were my days off. Since I deviated from my routine, my sister was bound to have questions.
Plus, all day I felt like I was floating on a cloud, and I didn’t want Dial ruining that. Fancy had that effect on people. When her big lips twisted into a delicious smile, I knew I was in trouble. And over the past few days I’d been graced with the smile time and again. Waking up to her face all serene with a bit of drool in the corner of her mouth was a dream come true. Yep, I dug everything about her, even the saliva stains she left on my pillowcases.
“We need to talk.” Dial entered my office, which was a converted shed in the back of the greenhouse.
The contents of my stomach dropped to my toes. I didn’t have the energy to go back and forth about all the ways Francesca was bad for me at three in the afternoon. “Hello to you too.”
“No time for pleasantries. I’ve been thinking.” She moved a stack of my Good Organic Gardening magazines and took a seat in the only other chair in the room.
“No, not that. Anything but that.”
“If Mom and Dad are serious about moving, then we should get serious too.”
“Serious about what?”
“About our plans, Eddy.” She shook her head like I deserved to wear a dunce hat. “This place is going to be ours. That means no more running major decisions by the parentals. The buck stops with you and me.”
“And Cyrus.” If we were speaking about the future, Cy should be included.
“Fuck Cyrus. The nursery is our baby and Cy doesn’t care about watering schedules or the best way to trim butterfly bushes. He’s too busy kissing babies and cutting ribbons at the renovated library.”
“Wow, I thought it would be a few months before the knives came out.”
“Knives out? Don’t be ridiculous. Cyrus left the family business and never looked back.”
“Maybe, but things are different now and we still own the nursery equally.”
Dial snapped her fingers. “Great point. Let’s start there. I think we should buy Cyrus out.”
I closed my laptop, realizing I was going to give this conversation more attention than I initially expected. “Excuse me?” This topic was too heavy for a Monday afternoon. My only concern was spending the night wrapped in Fancy’s arms. I was not prepared for cutthroat succession planning.
“Don’t start clutching your pocketbook now.”
“Do you understand what you’re asking?”
“Yes, I spent the weekend crunching the numbers. The shop is worth approximately ten million. That doesn’t include all the land. Ten split three ways is a little over three million. So, we’d each have to come up with one point five mill.”
“Oh, great, I’ll just pull my half out of the shoebox in my attic.”
Dial’s face brightened. “We could take out a business loan.”
“Or we could do nothing and not incur unnecessary debt. You’re acting like Cy is our enemy.”
“After we start implementing our changes, revenue is bound to increase. We’ll be sitting on a substantial nest egg. And Cyrus won’t be the mayor of Hume forever.”
I hopped my shoulders. “It’s Hume so he could be. Mayor Hathaway ran undefeated for twenty years.”
“Let’s be realistic. Cy’s a one term politician, maybe two.”
“And you think when his reign is over, he’ll come slinking back to the nursery. Cyrus hates dirt so much, he gets manicures every two weeks.”
“He wouldn’t be coming to do manual labor. He’d want in on the business side, not the hauling manure side.”
My sister’s angle finally took shape. “And you’re afraid he’ll come for your position.” Dial and I both had our strengths; I was the plant guy. I knew everything about gardening, landscaping, and vegetation. All the nursery orders were made by me with a detailed monthly supply schedule that couldn’t be easily replicated. My stake in the business was solid.
“He could try but I’d crush him. I know more than anyone when it comes to the business behind Figs and Twine. Our supplies, our budget, or team members. And, that’s why you and I make such a great team. I tend to the books and you tend to the begonias.”
“Do you have some kind of acquisition proposal I could review?”
Dial sputtered a laugh. “What do I look like a newbie? Of course I do.” She tossed a folder on my desk.
“I’ll look over your proposal and get back to you.”
“Okay, great doing business with you.” Dial headed for the door.
I tipped my ball cap.
Stopping short, she said, “For now let’s keep this between you and me. No Cyrus and no Fancy.” When she spoke Fancy’s name, it sounded like a cuss word.
“Got it.”
With my parent’s retirement/moving announcement came a ton of questions. When they said we had the ability to run the nursery on our own, what did that mean? Did it mean we would continue to run operations day to day, or was this a complete transfer of power? Over the past few years our parents stepped back considerably. There was a time when my father was in the nursery bright and early watering flowers, moving planters, and stocking accessories. Now he rarely made visits to the shop and when he did, it was usually because he needed supplies for his garden.
I was excited for the prospects, but Dial was moving faster than my liking. Icing Cyrus out wasn’t going to fly with me. This was the family business and if he wanted, Cyrus would always have a place alongside Dial and me. As a kid I always imagined the three of us running the nursery together and teaching our kids to love this place as much as we did. Granted Cy wasn’t interested in plants, customer service, our crunching numbers. He’d be good at it because he was good at everything, but he didn’t have a passion for it like me and Dial.
After work, I headed home to take a quick shower before picking Fancy up. When I pulled up to my place, Fancy was already there sitting in one of the rocking chairs on the porch. My heart leapt in my chest. The sight of her was the best welcome home ever.
“Have you been waiting long?” I shouted. Her horse was roped to the porch banister on the shaded side of the house with a bucket of water next to her. Walking up to Fancy, it was clear from her sullen expression something was wrong. Moving her duffel bag to the side I knelt in front of her. “Is everything okay?”
She shook her head slowly.
Now that I was laying eyes on her, I could tell her face was ashen and stained with tears. “Talk to me.”
“Darla was sleeping with Chap.” She said the words in a matter-of-fact tone.
My eyes grew wide as her statement settled in. “How do you?—”
“Moniece, my assistant caught them in the act months ago.”
“And we believe Moniece?” Sometimes even the most well-intentioned individuals had a motive.
“She has no reason to lie. Trust me, I’ve searched my brain to come to a rational explanation, but Moniece is as trustworthy as they come.”
Standing, I released a long sigh. “Tell me what you need right now? Do you want me to be honest or do you want me to provide a listening ear?”
“Honest.” Her big brown eyes practically pleaded for clarity.
“Darla has always seen you as her competition for guys’ attention or on stage. She’s jealous of you and hides it behind fake smiles and unprovoked compliments. So, it doesn’t surprise me she would do something like that to you.”
Fancy jumped from her chair, practically ready to fight. “If that were true, if any of that were true, I would have seen it.”
“Fancy you’re not good at reading people, you never have been. You believed Darla was your best friend because that’s what you were to her. I don’t think you saw what I was able to see. The intense stares, the eye rolls, the smirks that never quite turned into a genuine smile.”
“She always has a half smile, that’s just her face.”
“With you, yea. It’s like she can’t bring herself to be happy for you even when your success meant she got to tag along. You only see the best in people because that’s what you offer to others but Darla?—”
“Are you saying she’s a snake in the grass?”
“I’m saying most of your mishaps can be traced back to her. Your mic not working at the start of a performance, your song journal going mysteriously missing for weeks. Who do you think smashed your guitar?”
“You’re making her out to be an evil genius.”
“Jealousy makes people do weird things.”
“Jealous of what exactly? Darla is beautiful and talented in her own right.”
“I don’t think you grasp how difficult it is being dwarfed by your star power.”
“So, she sleeps with my boyfriend … ex-boyfriend to get back at me? Maybe Chap is blackmailing her or he brainwashed her. Shit like that happens all the time. He got into her head and piece by piece broke her down. Trust me he’s capable, he did it with me.”
As if I needed another reason to hate this Chap fella. “Let me ask you this. If it wasn’t for Whiskey Wild would you two still be friends?”
“She’s my best friend.” Her tone was incredulous.
“So was I and you didn’t seem to have any problems with ghosting me.” The moment I said it, I felt like an ass. I wasn’t trying to make this about me. But witnessing her ride for Darla even after she stabbed her squarely in the back was pissing me off. For years I knew Whiskey Wild had an expiration date because eventually Darla would do some fuck shit and force Fancy to reconsider the strength of their relationship.
Fancy fired back. “I begged you to come with us, but you refused. So, who walked away from whom?” She stormed to the front door in an attempt to escape but it was locked. “Open the fucking door, Edison.”
I walked over to her with her hands on her hips, looking defiant. “I understand you’re upset, but let’s not talk to one another like that.” Leaning in closer, I whispered, “I’m sorry about what I said about you leaving. I wasn’t trying to make this about me. We both made choices.” I hoped my softer tone took a bit of the sting out of my previous words.
“I’m sorry too,” she whispered back, burying her face in my chest. Her body shook in my arm as she silently sobbed. Sometimes you needed to cry it out before devising a plan of attack. When I received bad news, I usually sat in the dark listening to yacht music. Something about “Heaven Help Me” by Deon Estus centered me.
When she finally pulled away, I said, “It’s going to be alright. And if you want to salvage a relationship with Darla we can figure it out.”
“I don’t know who I am without Whiskey Wild.”
“You are Whiskey Wild. The music, the lyrics, the spirit. That was all you. Darla was just siphoning from your energy.”
“It works because it’s us.”
“Nah, it works because it’s you. It’s in your blood. You are the heart and soul of this group.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“You don’t have to have all the answers now. It’s okay to take the time to process your feelings.”
“I’m scared and I feel like my life is falling apart.”
“That’s fair.”
“Maybe I should go. Home or back to LA. It’s not fair to lay this all on you. You were expecting a good time and I’m just a Debbie Downer.”
“I’m not going to tell you what to do. But I’m not asking you to leave.”
“Why are you always there for me?”
I stared at my feet, kicking a thistle that had made its way onto the porch. The answer to Fancy’s question was a simple one. Growing up whenever she needed me, I came running. She didn’t have to ask. I eagerly volunteered to carry the load, brainstorm the problem, or quite literally kick someone’s ass. Heat overtook my cheeks and ears as my gaze settled on her face and we locked eyes. I don’t know who said it, but you miss all the shots you never take. So, I planted my feet and let a free throw fly. “Because … I love you Fancy.”
After dinner, I led Cotton Candy to the barn, feeding her and the other animals. When I got back to the house, with my truck still parked out front, I remembered I had a surprise for Fancy. I moved the truck and collected the items from the back seat. In the house, Fancy was stretched out on the couch in a tank top showcasing her nipples and booty shorts that placed her curves on display.
“I come bearing gifts.”
Fancy sat up. “You’ve come to the right place. I love gifts.”
“First we have this.” I placed a nondescript box in front of her.
“What’s that?”
“This is a router for the internet I signed up for today.”
Her face brightened. “You bought that for me?”
“Yeah. So now you don’t have to run to town for service.”
“This feels naughty, like I’m converting you to the dark side. Before we know it, you’ll be fighting with strangers online who go by usernames like Macaulay Culkin’s Left Butt Cheek.”
My brows smashed together. “Is that supposed to be a real person?”
“Maybe, sometimes it can be a bot.”
My expression was etched with confusion, probably because I mostly spent my time on the internet checking emails and searching recipes for thirty-minute meals.
“Awe it’s like you’re my grandma and I have to teach you how to work the group chat.”
“I’m a part of several group chats, thank you very much. If you keep teasing me, I’ll take my second gift back.” I thrust a bouquet of wilted flowers in her face.
“Dead flowers?”
“They were a beautiful arrangement of flowers. But they’ve been sitting in my truck in the sun since five this evening, so now they are a representation of my good intentions.”
“I love every parched petal.”
“Don’t worry I can probably bring it back to life by cutting the stems and dunking the entire thing in cold water.”
“You don’t have to buy me flowers.”
“One, I didn’t buy them because I own the nursery and two, yes the fuck I do.”
Fancy hopped up and headed to the kitchen to unwrap the bouquet. Searching my drawers, she found a utility knife. “I didn’t realize my boyfriend was so romantic.”
My heart paused in my chest. Did she just call me her boyfriend? “Boyfriend?” I was in need of clarification before my head started spinning.
“Yeah, I mean I think that’s the appropriate term when a guy and a gal are spending exclusive time together.” Fancy’s tone was casual as if she was sharing common knowledge.
She was offering everything I wanted, but it was hard to ignore the small voice in the back of my head telling me I was going to end up heartbroken. When the novelty of playing house with me on the farm wore thin, she would return to her real life. A life far more exciting than anything I could offer. All I could provide was a cluttered house and an orphan cat. How could that compete with touring and screaming fans calling her name?
Fancy just claimed me. Maybe she was ready for a change. Or maybe we could swing the long-distance thing. I didn’t care a fuck about the logistics as long as I was with her.
While I filled a bucket with cold water, Fancy dutifully cut each stem. “During dinner, I kind of monopolized the conversation with my plots for revenge.”
“It’s fine. I enjoyed entertaining your murderous imaginings. My favorite was burying them in a shallow grave.”
“Let’s talk about something else, anything else. I know, let’s pull out the yearbook and talk shit about the people we went to high school with.”
“Can we start with Dial?” I took the flowers and submerged them into the bucket of water.
“Uh-oh, what did she do?”
“She’s acting like we’re in a game of Monopoly and is intent on grabbing up all the real estate. Dial suggested we buyout Cyrus’s portion of Figs and Twine.”
“Hmm.” Fancy fluffed her curls while making her way back to the couch.
“What do you mean hum?”
“Cyrus hates the nursery.”
I plopped down next to her. “Hate is a strong word.”
“But it’s one that he’s used in the past. Now I’ve been out of the loop for a minute, so maybe his feelings have changed.”
“You’d be fully okay if Oz iced you out of the ranch?”
“Well … no, because that’s partially my inheritance. But I don’t have any say in the day-to-day operations of Palmer Ranch. I defer to Daddy and when the time comes, I’ll defer to Oz.”
“Right so I’m just supposed to deny Cyrus his inheritance?”
“I thought you said Dial wanted to buy him out. Maybe Cyrus could use the money for his next campaign or to start his own business.”
“So, you’re siding with Dial.”
“Whoa, slow down. I’m not siding with anyone. But if you and Dial are putting in all the work, maybe you should revisit the division of the pie. Instead of thirty percent each, Cyrus gets a little less. I mean I make more than my former friend because I write most of the songs.”
“Something about that doesn’t sit right with me.”
“You need to remember Figs and Twine is a business first. That means doing what’s best for the bottom line.”
“How is me and Dial claiming the lion’s share good for the bottom line?”
“I think you have to at least be open to having these conversations.”
“Like damn, when is enough enough? Materialistically, I have everything I need. I couldn’t really ask for more.”
“You have an entire house to renovate.”
“And I’ve already set aside money for that.”
“Well okay Daddy Warbucks, I guess you have everything covered. But fair warning, once you get connected to the internet, you’re going to have the urge to buy a cooling blanket or veggie peeler and it’s just a gateway drug to more shit.”
“And apparently I have a girlfriend now.” I tried to act like everything was normal and she hadn’t removed me from the dating pool with her declaration.
“Yep, one who’s going through a quarterish life crisis.”
“I prefer my women in the middle of a death spiral. It’s easier for them to ignore my red flags.”
“Smart man.” Fancy ran her hand down my chest, stopping when it landed on my penis. It took very little encouragement for my dick to stiffen. “Should I put some music on?”
“No music. I only wanna hear you.”
Fancy tugged on my pants, and I wasted no time stripping down to my birthday suit. Her mouth was warm and when she teased my tip with her tongue, I melted into the couch cushions. Watching her eagerly ease her mouth over my dick was my wildest dreams realized. She traversed the length of me, her slurpy moans of pleasure letting me know she was enjoying this as much as I was. Dick sucking was an art and Fancy was a fucking Basquiat.
Fancy’s throat held the power to erase my mind, any stress or worries from the day dissipated as she stroked my shaft while circling her tongue over the tip. I gathered her hair in my hand to get a better view. Just the sight of her lips around my dick was enough to send me over the edge. Her big fuck me eyes settled on my features searching for confirmation her magic tongue had the intended effect. Tilting her head, she curled her tongue as she slid up and down.
“I think you’re the sexiest when my dick is in your mouth,” I groaned. Leaning over her, I whispered into her ear. “God, you are so good at this.” Pulling off her shirt, I caressed her soft skin. Her moans shifted me into demon time. Standing, I looked down at her on her knees staring at me to make the next move. “Say ahh for me, darling.”
Fancy complied and I slowly moved my hips back and forth, fucking her face. Collecting her hair once more, I guided her over my shaft. The sensation of her tongue running up and down my dick practically dropped me to my knees. “Take that dick, baby. Take all of it.” She tried to accommodate more of me, earning an A for effort.
Her hand dropped to her crotch, and she worked her clit which made me jealous. I wanted to be the one pleasing her. Stepping back, I pulled her to her feet and in one fell swoop, hiked her upward until her thighs were on my shoulders, her feet near my head, and her pussy front and center. Fancy’s squeal at the unexpected position change was followed by a deep moan as I dipped my tongue in her plump lips.
The sounds of her moans were my favorite tune. She released a series of melodic purrs before capturing my dick into her mouth. Her throat seemed to work overtime, reciprocating ever suckle, lick, and kiss of her clit with one of her own. The sensitive skin around my shaft goose pebbled as she teased me with her lips.
“Edison, I’m gonna come. Please —”
“Come with my dick in your mouth. I want your orgasm to echo through me.”
Fancy bobbed for my shaft, sucking it back in. I slapped her ass, and she tumbled into ecstasy. Whimpering and humming against my dick. Her hands went limp, and I hugged her tighter to prevent her from falling. It took everything in me not to explode in her mouth. But I was greedy and wanted more. Releasing her, I gently laid her on the couch. Fancy’s eyes were hooded still riding the wave of her sexual high. I lowered myself on top and was greeted by her wet and juicy center.
My eyes grew wide like I was experiencing sex with Fancy for the first time. Tonight, the act was slower and more intimate because I could see her face and kiss her lips when the mood struck. She didn’t shy away, latching on to my curious gaze. I loved the way she absentmindedly massaged my body while we made love. Her hand kneading my thigh or caressing my arm with each thrust.
When I was a teenager, this is what I imagined a relationship would be like. Cozy dinners just us two. Silly dancing while the noodles boiled. Lazy days reading a book while music played as a soundtrack. And nights … nights were spent making love, your hips wobbling as you exchanged breaths. And the joy of knowing tomorrow you’d wake up and do it all over again.
While she rocked her hips, I pulled her further underneath me so my dick could sop up all her loving. Fancy pressed her lip to my ear and gave me a play-by-play of how my dick made her feel. How she’d never been this wet before and when I was in her vicinity it was difficult to think about anything else but fucking me. After each sentence, my breathing became more ragged, my hands tugging at her waist.
She nibbled on my ear and coaxed me. “That’s it, baby. It’s all yours. I’m all yours.”
Shuddering over top of her I wedged my hand between us working her clit until she reached her edge and her eyes rolled to the back of her head as we grunted and groaned through our shared ecstasy.
Fancy wrapped her arms around me as her body twitched against mine. I licked the sweat from her neck and face because at this point, I was ready to consume this woman. Resting my face on her chest, I suckled her perfect breasts, sucking each nipple until it was taut. Fancy’s hips were still floating underneath me, practically coercing my dick to come back to life. Grabbing my penis, she slipped me back inside for round two.
Yep, everything I needed was right here.