by Krista Davis
Every time we sat out here, Wolf spoke wistfully of an old Blaze climbing rose in his yard that had died. Now that I was a lady of leisure, I thought it would be a nice gesture to surprise him by planting one where his had died. That wasn’t a big project. It would only take a couple of hours and would give me pleasure to boot.
I woke early, earlier than I wanted, to someone pounding the brass knocker on my front door. I forced one eye open and looked at the clock. Six? I was on vacation. I rolled over, but the pounding continued.
With great reluctance, I slung on a thin cotton bathrobe and stumbled down the steps. I opened the door to find Leon, Natasha’s assistant, in the street, waving his arms. Ever since he showed up at my Halloween party dressed as Frodo, the hobbit, I had trouble seeing him as anything else. Leon loved food almost as much he loved gossip. Unfortunately, he wasn’t particularly good at hiding his emotions. His expressive face told all. Like a kindly hobbit, he would give away his last bit of food to a hungry child or dog.
Chubby Leon looked over at me and ran back to my stoop, panting heavily. “I had nothing to do with this. I didn’t even know about it until five minutes ago. Change clothes and do your hair. Now!”
CHAPTER FIVE
Dear Sophie,
My garage faces the street and is painfully prominent. There’s little room for plants along the driveway. How can I dress it up?
—Hopeless Garage in Morning Glory, Kentucky
Dear Hopeless Garage,
Buy a bench and paint it an eye-catching color. Place it near the garage, and surround it with colorful potted plants like geraniums. If there’s room, stick a trellis in a pot along the front of your garage and plant a mandevilla. People won’t be seeing the garage anymore.
—Sophie
The words had barely left his mouth when Leon shrieked. “They’re here! How do I look?”
The rumbling of a large engine drowned his words. An eighteen-wheeler truck rolled toward us, overwhelming the narrow old street. It stopped before my house, blocking early traffic. Green and blue covered the side of the truck in an abstract version of grass and sky. Brightly colored flowers and leafy trees formed a frame for the words “Tear It up with Troy!”
Nina ran across the street to me, and Francie joined us from next door. Of course, this was the one time Nina wasn’t wearing one of her elegant silk bathrobes. I didn’t even know she owned green yoga pants, much less ones that were so unbecoming and appeared to have been partly shredded by a cat. Her boxy shirt didn’t do much for her, either. Her hair bushed out to the side in a bad case of bed head. Francie was no better. I hadn’t seen a housedress like Francie’s since I was a child. From the looks of it, she might have worn it when I was a child. She wore kneesocks and shabby bedroom slippers on her feet.
Troy, whom I recognized from his popular TV show, bounded out of the truck. The person who coined the phrase tall, dark, and handsome must have meant this guy. Athletically slender, he wore an intentional scruffy shadow of a beard. He pushed back masses of tousled coal black hair, revealing the deepest blue eyes I had ever seen.
Spellbound, Nina, Francie, and I stared in silence. He flashed us an easy smile.
I spluttered, “Tha, tha…”
Nina gently smacked me without taking her eyes off of him. “She, she, um, she…”
“Hubba, hubba!” said Francie. “If I were ten years younger…”
Thankfully, Leon hadn’t lost his ability to speak. He trotted to Troy and squeaked, “You’re him! I mean, he’s you! I mean… Well, I’m just your biggest fan. I can’t believe you’re here!”
Troy turned his dazzling smile on Leon. “Troy Garner.” He extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Leon pumped Troy’s hand. “Stay here. Right here. I have to get my camera. You’ll take a picture with me, won’t you?”
“Sure thing. Do you know Sophie Bauer?”
Leon aimed his forefinger at me.
Troy slapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks!”
Nina gripped my arm. The closer Troy came, the tighter her fingers clenched. His stunning smile paralyzed us like deer in headlights.
“Which one of you lovely ladies is Sophie Bauer?”
Francie giggled and offered the back of her hand as though she expected him to kiss it.
He did. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sophie. I understand you need a garage!”
“Yes. Yes, I do!” said Francie.
At that moment Natasha made her grand entrance, dashing across the street and fluttering into our midst, ending our besotted daze. Unlike Nina and Francie, Natasha was camera ready, her hair coiffed and her face perfect in what I suspected was full TV makeup. She wore a tailored white dress, complete with pantyhose and five-inch heels. “Francie! What do you think you’re doing? Cut! Cut! That’s not Sophie.”
Cut? I’d been so mesmerized by Troy’s blinding good looks that I hadn’t even noticed two guys with cameras.
Natasha stopped just short of pushing Francie out of the way. She flicked her hands at her, like she might at a rabbit in her garden.
In spite of Natasha’s agitation, Troy kept his cool. “You must be Natasha.”
She flipped her black hair over her shoulder and coquettishly touched the silver choker that lay on her neck. Her long, slender legs posed in an ever-self-conscious beauty queen position. She reached both of her hands out to him.
Troy never missed a beat. Evidently used to hugging strange women, he embraced her.
When she released him and patted her hair, Natasha said, “This is Sophie.”
Troy blinked at me for one second, then shook my hand and introduced himself. “I hear you need a garage.”
I wasn’t sure how to answer that. I didn’t have a garage, but I had seen his show. Tear It Up was exactly what he did.
Natasha called, “Cut! Cut!” She tilted her head like a confused puppy. “You’re supposed to act happy, Sophie.” She sighed and turned her attention to Troy. “Are people always this clueless?”
I glared at Natasha before directing my attention to Troy. “Hold everything. I don’t quite understand what’s going on here.”
Troy beamed like he thought I was the most charming woman in the world. No wonder he had a TV show. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and bent his head to speak with me. “Sophie, sweetheart, we’re going to rip out your backyard and give you the garage you so desperately need.”
I scooted out of his grasp. “That’s what I was afraid of. I like my garden.”
“Sophie!” Natasha spoke as though she was scolding a child. “Don’t be impolite.”
Seizing the moment, I held out my hands, gesturing toward Natasha. “There you go. Tear up Natasha’s yard.”
Oh, the priceless mixture of astonishment and fury on her face!
“No!” she protested. “That wouldn’t be fair to you. I already have a garage.”
Troy’s dazzling smile had disappeared. He looked up and down the street and cast an appraising eye over me. “I thought Natasha said you come home late at night because of your job and that you have to park blocks away and walk to your house alone.”
Okay, that part was true.
Troy cocked his head in the direction of my house. “Let’s look at this backyard of yours.”
Leon opened the gate and mouthed at me, “I didn’t know. I swear.”
We trooped to the backyard.
“Did Natasha also say I was a little old lady?” I asked Troy.
“Yeah, something like that.”
So that was why he thought Francie was me. The picture was becoming more clear. I eyed Natasha. She had never said a word to me about my safety. There must be something in this for her.
Troy studied my garden. The irises and my beloved peonies had long given way to cheerful daisies, bright sunflowers, rich blue delphiniums, and black-eyed Susans.
He chewed on his lower lip. “Lots of flower beds. Good foundation plantings. Vegetable garden. Cute and practical
garden shed, but you don’t have much in the way of outdoor living space. And you do need a garage, even if you’re not the little old lady I expected.”
I didn’t want to be rude, so I tried to weasel out of the situation as politely as possible. “I’m very sorry if Natasha misled you. We could probably help you find someone more deserving of a yard makeover.”
He nodded and made a little whistling sound. “What if we built you a fire pit?”
“I have a fire pit.” True, it was the kind you buy ready-made and plop on a terrace, but it served my purpose.
“Um hmm.” He cast an unappreciative eye at it. “Outdoor kitchen.”
I laughed. “I have to give you credit for trying. In a few hours it will be hot and humid. Who would want to spend time cooking out here unless it was on the grill? I don’t need an entire outdoor kitchen for that.”
Natasha nudged me. “Could I speak to you for just a moment?”
We walked a few feet away, and I braced myself.
“You’re embarrassing me. You’re supposed to be thrilled and excited. Nobody turns down a star like Troy!”
“I can’t help it if you misrepresented the situation. I happen to like my backyard, and I’m not interested in having Troy and his troops dig it up with a bulldozer.” I eyed her with suspicion.
She winked at Troy. Was she flirting? Had she finally given up all hope that Mars would marry her?
“Look, Sophie. You need a garage. You know you do. I cannot imagine why you would turn down a garage. It’s a big yard. You have”—her lips bunched up like it pained her to say it—“this big double lot. The garage will only take up a little corner. And think how wonderful it will be not to have to carry groceries from your car in the rain.”
She had a point. I hated to admit that, though. And I still didn’t want my yard torn up.
Troy ambled over. “Excuse us, Natasha.” He motioned to me, and we strolled toward my potting shed.
“What if I said I could give you a garage and a fabulous outdoor living space you would love—without ripping out your flower beds. The only thing you would lose is that left back corner, which is mostly bushes anyway. Whadda ya’ say?”
It was tempting. I felt guilty, though. Someone else probably needed a garage much more than me.
A truck thundered along the alley that ran behind my fence.
I looked up at Troy. “It’s too late to change your plans, isn’t it? I’m on the schedule, and everyone is already here, ready to work.”
He grinned at me. A genuine grin, not the dazzling smile he used before. “Pretty much. They count on me talking people into it.”
He was good at his job. “Has anyone ever turned you down?”
“Not yet. C’mon, you’re getting a new garage!”
I didn’t trust him. I wanted to, but I had seen the show, and I had a very bad feeling that his backhoe would run right over me if I tried to protect my beautiful plants.
Nina poked me from behind and whispered, “Are you nuts? You’re the only person in the whole world who would turn this down. No nightmares with contractors who don’t show for work and no having to find people to finish or fix what someone else started.”
“What if I don’t like what they do? What if they build something that looks like a gleaming steel tin can?”
Troy held up his palms. “I have the design guidelines for Old Town. They’re fairly specific for these historic blocks. It will be a good change for us. We like to vary the shows, and I see this garage and backyard looking like they’ve been here as long as the house.” He clapped my back. “Have a little faith in me.”
I relented. After all, how bad could it be? Nina was right, at the very least I would get a garage out of it. “All right.”
“Roll cameras!” shouted Natasha.
Troy quickly covered up his surprise at her audacity. Even if she had her own local show, it wasn’t her business to direct Troy’s show. I had a hunch we were in for some entertaining clashes.
After I signed a stack of papers we shot an opening for the show in which I pretended to be both surprised and delighted. I hoped I would be.
Troy asked Natasha to supervise the unloading of the bulldozer. As soon as she was out of earshot, he rolled his eyes. “Is she always like that?”
I had to laugh. “Oh, yeah.”
He lowered his head as though thinking. “Okay. I need to come up with little tasks to keep her out of the way. Good to know.”
The engine in the back stopped running. In the abrupt quiet, the sound of my gate slamming open had all the impact of a gun being fired. A man barged through and loped determinedly toward Troy. Natasha followed behind him, her heels slowing her progress as they caught in the grass and soil.
Although his face was stormy with anger, he was almost as good looking as Troy. Sandy hair fell into his forehead. When he pushed it back, he revealed green eyes that matched the color of his T-shirt and pants.
Nina yanked on my arm, her eyes wide.
I knew why Nina was surprised.
CHAPTER SIX
Dear Natasha,
I love pots of annuals because they’re so practical. I’m bored with terra-cotta, though. I’ve tried painting it, but it never looks quite right. How can I dress up my pots?
—Crafter in Pansy, Ohio
Dear Crafter,
Break some dishes! Use tile snips to cut chipped dishes or tiles, and adhere them to your pots in bright mosaics. Add grout and you’re done!
—Natasha
There was no doubt about it—this guy had been one of the party watchers in the woods at Roscoe’s house.
Troy gestured toward him. “Ladies, this is Heath Blankenship, my number two man. If you need something and I’m not around, you just ask Heath.”
Heath brightened up. “I aim to please. Which one of you is Sophie?”
I wiggled my fingers at him.
He acknowledged me by bobbing his head. “Pleased to meet ya.”
Natasha finally caught up to him, her nostrils flaring with fury. She pushed her hair out of her face and glared at Heath. “Excuse me. Troy put me in charge of unloading the bulldozer.”
Heath’s long dimples disappeared when he turned an amused gaze on Natasha. “No problem, darlin’. You go right ahead and put the backhoe wherever you want.”
Natasha sputtered. I couldn’t recall having seen her speechless.
Watching Troy and Heath side by side was an interesting study in contrasts. Heath didn’t have Troy’s polish, nor, apparently, his deft touch for dealing with the public. Heath didn’t sport an expensive haircut. In fact, he seemed a little bit scruffy. His face bore weathered creases surely brought on by too much time outdoors in the sun. Yet I had no doubt that his rugged I-just-chopped-the-wood appearance brought women to him like puppies chasing bacon.
Troy slung an arm around Natasha’s shoulder. “You have to help me with Heath. He can get a little bit testy, but he’s a good guy.” He walked her away from us and continued talking.
Heath looked heavenward, as though he’d seen Troy do this song and dance before. He flashed those dimples at us—“There’s one at every shoot”—and headed in the direction of the backhoe.
Wolf strode into my backyard as Troy was steering Natasha toward the street. I suspected Troy used the dazzling smile on him. They nodded at each other.
“What’s going on?” asked Wolf. “Should I be jealous?”
Nina snorted. “Any man would be a fool not to be worried about Troy. It’s like having a Roman god walk into your life. And that other guy has a certain untamed charm. I bet he’s the bad boy of the group.”
Wolf pretended to be appalled. “I can’t leave you alone for a second.”
I wrapped an arm around his waist and laughed. “Only in our dreams. Troy must have loads of women running after him.” Wolf might not be as young, slender, or drop-dead gorgeous as Troy, but he was a good guy, which was far more important to me.
“Is he the fellow who ri
ps up people’s yards?”
I wished he hadn’t put it quite that way. “I’m afraid so.”
He pointed at the climbing rose near the table where Nina and I had talked with Mona in the morning. “Just be sure they don’t tear that one out.”
“It should be safe. They’re going to work on the other side of the yard.”
“I stopped by to beg off dinner tomorrow. Meet me for lunch at The Laughing Hound instead?”
“Sorry, I have a meeting. How about dinner tonight at my house?”
“I thought you were taking some time off.”
“I am, but Roscoe Greene wants to see me tomorrow.”
Wolf’s face grew stony. “What does Roscoe want now?”
I continued in our jolly vein. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of him, too?”
“Stay away from him.” Wolf wasn’t joking.
“Don’t be silly. He just got married. I’m sure he wants to talk about another event.”
“Then turn him down.”
Just past Wolf, I could see Nina, her expression showing the bewilderment I felt. “I gather you have some kind of issue with Roscoe?”
His hands balled into fists. “Isn’t it enough that I ask you not to get involved with the man?”
I thought about it and took a step back. “No, it’s not enough. If you expect me to refuse to do business with someone, I want to know why. What’s wrong with Roscoe?”
Wolf turned so red I was afraid he might have a coronary on the spot. Instead, he turned and walked toward the street. I watched as he disappeared along the side of my house, but I had no desire to run after him.
“That was weird,” said Nina.
We returned to my kitchen, and I put on a pot of coffee. “Wolf never acts like that. Do you know any gossip about Roscoe?” Nina knew everything. If there were stories about Roscoe or his family, she would have heard.
