CHAPTER THREE
The food was better than Henry expected. And the service… Elisabeth with an S proved herself to be the world’s best server. Whatever they wanted as soon as they wanted it. Nothing but polite words flowed from her smiling lips.
And it was torture for him.
Henry didn’t want to see her nor hear her sweet voice.
He wanted her to drop a plate, spill a drink, and sneer at him.
But she didn’t. And he found it difficult—if not impossible—to keep from studying her every movement.
He caught another glimpse of Elisabeth’s support-hose-covered legs.
Not being able to keep his eyes off her aggravated him.
Definitely time to get her out of sight and out of mind. “Let’s get the check. Frank’s waiting.”
Frank, his longtime chauffeur and bodyguard, would drive them along the route Henry had mapped out for their day. Wineries for tours and tastings, and dinner at a new restaurant in Dundee. In a few short hours, the Berry Bistro would be nothing more than a memory.
When he was back home in Portland, he would make seven different dates for next week—one for each night.
Nothing romantic since that wasn’t what he wanted, but dating was like a hobby to him and would keep his mind occupied.
That would be enough to slam the door on the small-town server and make him forget she existed.
Elisabeth brought the check and returned Cynthia’s cell phone, who said she must have left it in the kitchen when she asked for more napkins.
Cynthia grabbed the check, which was out of character for her, but Henry wasn’t about to complain.
She’d been so sweet to him during the entire lunch.
It must be Cade’s influence. A satisfied feeling settled over Henry.
Once again, he was pleased his matchmaking skills were so attuned.
After Cynthia paid the bill, he stood at the bistro’s entrance.
The temptation to glance over his shoulder one last time was strong, but he was stronger.
He walked out and slid into his limo. Cade followed him, but Cynthia spoke to Frank for a few minutes first, then she got in.
The doors shut, and Henry breathed a small sigh.
The car moved forward, and relief washed over him. Someday, he’d have a good laugh over his odd attraction to a server named Elisabeth in a tiny town called Berry Patch. But not today. An award-winning bottle of pinot noir had his name on it, and he couldn’t wait for a sip.
Twenty minutes later, the limo stopped, not at a winery but in a Walmart parking lot.
“What’s going on?” Henry asked.
“I’ll be right back,” Cynthia chirped. Several minutes later, she returned with two large shopping bags, then they were back on the road.
Using Cade’s Swiss Army knife, she cut the tags off an assortment of clothing items, placed her purchases in a large navy duffel bag, and pushed it toward Henry’s feet. “This is yours.”
Henry furrowed his brow. “I’m confused.”
“So am I,” Cade said. “But these past few months, I’ve learned to sit back and relax, and everything will work out fine.”
“You’ve come so far.” Cynthia kissed Cade’s cheek. “And now it’s Henry’s turn. It’s time to experience your own adventure. You’ll see it’s not all fun and games. And that you have to stop trying to control other people’s lives.”
Henry laughed. “Can I help it if I know what’s best for my friends?”
Cynthia tilted her chin. “By that logic, I’m your friend, so I must know what’s best for you. Unless you’re wrong about people knowing what their friends need most.”
She and Cade were living proof Henry knew what he was doing. Laurel and Brett Matthews, too. Not to mention the Billionaires of Silicon Forest. It hurt Henry that Cynthia couldn’t see that. “I’m not wrong.”
“Then prove it. Go on this adventure,” Cynthia challenged. “It’s time to put your money where your mouth is.”
Anticipation hung in the air. He glanced at Cade, who merely shrugged.
Henry couldn’t expect his friends to participate in his adventures if he wasn’t willing to do the same.
But this was Cynthia. She didn’t know what he wanted or needed.
She also knew nothing about planning an adventure.
Challenging adventures took time and careful preparation.
He spent months working on his. Hers smacked of last-minute haste.
He could handle whatever she threw at him.
“Fine,” Henry said finally. “I’ll go on your little adventure and prove I’m right. That I know what’s best for my friends. And when I win, I get to plan your honeymoon.”
Cade leaned forward. “Wait a minute.”
“Don’t worry, honey. We haven’t gotten to the rewards yet,” Cynthia assured him with confidence. “Your cell phone and wallet, please.”
Henry handed them over. She removed his credit cards, his calling card, and his cash before returning the wallet.
“It isn’t safe to carry all these hundreds around.
” She gave him one twenty-dollar bill. “Here’s the deal.
You’re still Henry Davenport, but the only money you have left in the world is this twenty.
You’re broke, out of work, and homeless.
You’ve been living off the generosity of your friends since making a string of bad investments. ”
Henry thought about his best friend, financial adviser extraordinaire Brett Matthews, and Blaise Mortenson, who also handled investments for him. “Don’t tell Brett or Blaise.”
Cynthia ignored him. “For the next month, you’ll work and live on a farm. You can only spend the money you earn.”
“An entire month?” Henry asked.
“Or less if the foreman returns from Mexico. He may not want to keep you on.”
Henry’s knowledge of farms came from old reruns he’d watched with the house staff when he was a kid.
It wouldn’t be that bad. Milk a cow or two.
Feed some animals. Fix a broken fence. People paid good money to stay in the country and at dude ranches.
This wasn’t an adventure. It was a vacation. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch,” Cynthia said. “But if you spend any money that you didn’t earn or tell anyone the truth about yourself or return home before your time is up or get fired, you lose.”
Sounded simple enough. “If I win?”
“If you last the entire month, I will never say another word about your adventures or matchmaking again.”
“And?” Henry always rewarded his friends for participating in his adventures. Selecting the perfect prizes was half the fun.
“And the Smiling Moon Foundation’s Island Camp will be named after you, as well as our firstborn son.”
Henry had donated the island where Cynthia and Cade spent their adventure to Cade’s nonprofit foundation, but having it named Davenport would immortalize Henry.
And if Cade and Cynthia named their child Henry, they would have to ask him to be the godfather.
He loved being Noelle and Brecken’s godfather.
Both were so sweet and stared at him with such adoration and love.
He wanted more godchildren to spoil. Most of all, he wanted to prove he was right and Cynthia was wrong. “And plan your honeymoon.”
Cade frowned. “No.”
“Yes,” Cynthia said. “But if you lose the adventure, your birthday parties and legendary adventures come to an end, and so does any and all matchmaking.”
Henry’s heart fell to his feet. “I’ve already planned the next one.”
“Then you’d better stay on the farm the entire time.”
How hard could it be? If Cynthia could survive on a deserted island, he could survive on a farm. At least he’d have a roof over his head and indoor plumbing. “I’ll do it.”
Cynthia hit the intercom button. “To the farm, Frank.”
Thirty minutes later, the limo passed a wooden sign that read Wheeler Berry Farm and turned left onto a gravel road.
They passed a deserted fruit stand on one side of the road.
The limo stopped in front of a metal building with large doors hanging open.
The barn? Henry wasn’t certain since barns were supposed to be red and constructed of wood and have animals living in them instead of rusted machinery and dirty farm equipment.
He stared at a two-story dilapidated farmhouse. He’d pictured a white picket fence, a swing on the porch, and an older couple standing in the front yard.
Not…this.
The house looked solid but neglected. The anemic cream paint was cracked and peeling, and the green—or was it gray?
—door had seen better days. A blue plastic tarp covered half the roof and fluttered in the breeze.
One shutter hung haphazardly as if held by a single nail.
At least the place had a porch. Get rid of the flaking paint, add a swing, and… it would still be bad.
A rooster cried out cock-a-doodle-doo.
Henry startled. He thought they only did that at dawn.
“Having second thoughts?” Cynthia asked, sounding amused.
“No.” He was up to his seventeenth or eighteenth thoughts. But it was too late to back down. He wasn’t going to live here forever. Only a month. Thirty days. Maybe thirty-one, but who was counting?
He didn’t see an outhouse, which must mean indoor plumbing. He hoped.
Henry swallowed. Hard.
Cynthia glanced at her watch. “We’re a few minutes early. The farmer should be here shortly.”
As if on cue, an ancient silver-and-black Suburban roared down the driveway, spewing a wake of gravel and dirt.
Henry grabbed the blue duffel bag and exited the limo.
He glanced at Frank, who had lowered his window.
“Tell Brett to handle things while I’m away.
Let Blaise know too. Have Laurel and Iris take lots of pictures and videos of Noelle and Brecken.
Oh, and Dash has bodyguards, but tell them I want you to drive Iris and Brecken if Dash is at work.
That’ll give you something to do while I’m away, and it’s less for Dash to worry about.
He’s been hovering, which isn’t good for any of them. In exactly one month, pick me up here.”
“Anything else, sir?”
“No.” Henry stood beside Cynthia and watched the old SUV sputter to a stop next to them. The door opened, and he saw a foot. A foot wearing an ugly white shoe. Next came a nude support-hose-covered calf. “It can’t be her.”
“It is.”
He’d known there had to be a catch. But not even Cynthia would… Oh yes, she would.
Cynthia snickered. “And did I mention you’ll be living with her, too?”
Elisabeth jumped down from the SUV. She still wore her uniform, but she’d removed her ponytail. Flowing blond hair surrounded her makeup-free face. She flipped her hair behind her shoulder, and he felt as if he’d been sucker punched.
“Thank goodness you’re not interested in her, or it could be a really long month. We’ll be going now.” Cynthia waved to Elisabeth and gave Henry a peck on the cheek. “Have fun and be a good boy. You wouldn’t want to be fired on your first day.”
Before he knew it, the limo headed down the long driveway, toward the road and civilization. He watched the puff of dirt follow the limo until it disappeared. He stood alone. Cynthia’s first mistake. Henry sent his friends off in pairs. Of course, that was necessary for his matchmaking.
Unless Cynthia wanted Elisabeth to be his pair—his match.
An interesting thought, but one he brushed off. He wasn’t up for a lifetime commitment with anyone. That just proved Cynthia didn’t know him. But a month with Elisabeth wouldn’t be so bad.
Who was he kidding? It couldn’t get any worse.
Another car door slamming, laughter, and footsteps filled the still country air. Henry glanced at the Suburban. A little girl with blond ringlets ran around the front of the SUV and latched on to Elisabeth’s leg. Her megawatt grin lit up her small face.
Another girl, a few years older than the first, with gold wire-rimmed glasses and blond braids, joined them.
A sullen-looking, thin boy, who appeared to be older than both girls and wore a black T-shirt with the faded words Trust No One on it, shuffled his way around the truck and stood with his hands shoved in the pockets of his faded jeans.
The defiance on his face matched the expression on his black T-shirt.
The trio of blond-haired females shared a striking resemblance. The boy had Elisabeth’s blue eyes…
And that was when it hit Henry.
It was worse. A lot worse.
Elisabeth didn’t look old enough, but the proof was right in front of him. She had kids. His beautiful server was a mom. And just like brides, Henry didn’t do moms.