Something About You

by Bridget Anderson

  The World Hunger Day Conference was over three weeks ago, but that was definitely Miles Parker’s voice.

  “Kyla. You okay, honey?” Rita asked.

  Kyla let go of the door. “I’m fine.”

  Tracee crossed her arms and peered across the room at Kyla. “So where did you go to meet a professional baseball player?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know.” Kyla grabbed her plate and turned to leave the room. “I’ll be in the office if anybody’s looking for me.” She walked down the short hall to the farm’s office, and closed the door behind her. Rollin had converted the billiard room into an office big enough for two desks. He’d even purchased her a laptop.

  She didn’t know whether to be excited, nervous or both. When she’d invited Miles to the farm, she was being polite. She never thought he’d actually show up. She’d assumed his interest in her program was out of sheer niceness to Professor Abraham. What did he stand to gain by taking a farm tour? His business wasn’t about organic foods; it was just the opposite.

  As the farm’s assistant manager, she needed to check her emails and make a few business calls before the morning tour. She attempted to answer some mail, but she couldn’t get over the fact that the same Miles Parker she’d seen on the front page of the tabloids in the grocery store was in their kitchen eating breakfast. He was infamous for dating celebrities and seemingly doing whatever it took to get him and his buddies on Entertainment Tonight.

  A knock on the door snapped Kyla’s thoughts back into place.

  “Come in.”

  Tracee walked in and closed the door behind her. “We have an idea. Right now Aunt Rita is in the dining room talking to Miles and his friends. Why don’t you get a picture of him while he’s here? We can display it in the dining room to show celebrities have eaten here, like they do in restaurants.”

  Kyla’s eyes widened in horror. “I can’t ask him to do that. I don’t know that man. I met him once, and when I invited him out here, I didn’t actually think he’d show up.”

  Tracee crossed her arms. “Well, he’s here. Rollin seems to know him, too. And he and his buddies are loving Rita’s breakfast. They ate a whole loaf of my banana bread. He’s not a paying guest, so the least he can do is give us a picture.”

  As if Kyla wasn’t already uncomfortable with him being there, now Tracee wanted her to impose on him. She hoped he wasn’t the type of celebrity who hated fans requesting pictures. “Okay, I’ll ask. Since he knows Rollin, maybe he won’t mind. Now get out of here and let me finish these emails.”

  “I’ll get my cell phone and meet you guys out by the truck. I can’t believe it, Miles Parker, here!”

  “Tracee, don’t go out there and make a fool of yourself. Take one picture of him and Rita. That’s it.”

  Tracee turned her lip up at Kyla. “You need to loosen up. You’re no fun, you know that?”

  “Yes, I am. I’m a lot of fun. Unlike you, I know the difference between work and play.”

  “Whatever.” Tracee walked back to the door. “We’ll meet you outside.”

  Once Tracee left, Kyla shook her head. Her sister acted as if she’d never met a celebrity before. Then again, maybe she hadn’t, since Miles was the first celebrity Kyla had ever met. He was not, however, the first player or womanizer she’d ever encountered. Someone from not so long ago came to mind.

  She pushed that bad memory from her head and shut down her computer. If it would make Rita happy, she’d ask Miles for a picture.

  Kyla grabbed her clipboard and went out the back door to meet Kevin and the truck. Every morning he cleaned the truck up and got it ready for the day’s guests. She found him standing at the back of the shiny, pristine vehicle, as usual.

  “Them kids yesterday smashed strawberries all over the floorboards,” Kevin complained as he finished wiping at some spots. “I swear they got no home training. People need to teach their kids about other people’s property.”

  Kyla opened the passenger door and tossed her clipboard onto the seat. “Kev, you know you love this truck like your own. If it wasn’t dirty, you’d still be out here wiping it down.”

  “Hey, a clean truck is a reflection of the driver. Besides, Mrs. Rollin said we have some special guests this morning, and I don’t want them sitting on smashed strawberries.” He stopped and looked up at Kyla. “Ever heard of Miles Parker, the baseball player? He went to UK and then played professionally for the Chicago Cubs. I used to watch him all the time.”

  Kyla rolled her eyes, and rested her hands on her hips. Geez, did everybody know this guy? “Yes, I’ve heard of him.” She cut Kevin a quick smile. “What do you say we get started? Our guests are eagerly waiting on the front porch.”

  Kevin frowned. “Okay, I see what kind of mood you’re in this morning. Research not going well?” he asked.

  “My research is fine.” She climbed up onto the back of the truck and took her usual seat against the back window. “Let’s start with collard greens this morning. We can end with cherries. Rita wants to make cherry pies this evening.”

  Kevin stood at the foot of the truck and smirked. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, as he two-finger saluted Kyla.

  She rolled her eyes again and shook her head. They spent so much time together, they were like an old married couple.

  As the truck pulled around to the front of the house, an unexpected shiver ran through Kyla when she spotted Miles standing on the front porch smiling and laughing with the other guests. His face lit up, and his square chin softened when he smiled. She wasn’t sure why she noticed that. Another thing she noticed was his ultra-bright-white T-shirt, which she would have advised him not to wear had she known he was coming. Where did he think he was going? She’d explained that it was a working farm.

  He’d looked effortlessly cool and confident in his suit at the conference, but today, in his casual attire, he was downright hot! The T-shirt showed off his muscular arms and the shorts his nice calves. He had on a baseball cap with a pair of shades sitting above the brim.

  The truck came to a halt, and Kyla jumped down to greet the guests and help a few of them up the steps onto the back of the truck. Still standing on the porch with Miles were Tracee, Rita and Tayler, all smiling like a bunch of Cheshire cats. The whole time, her family had been busy taking pictures with Miles.

  “Kyla, get on up here and take a picture with us.” Tracee waved for her to join them.

  Miles turned around, and the corners of his mouth slowly turned up as his eyes widened. He had to be one of the most attractive men she’d ever seen. She stopped what she was doing. “I’ll be right back,” she said to the guests on the truck before hurrying up onto the porch. Her family was acting starstruck and embarrassing the hell out of her. She had to end this, and quickly.

  “Hello, Mr. Parker.” She gave him a curt smile and extended her hand.

  “Hello, Ms. Coleman. I thought I’d take you up on your invitation,” he said as he accepted her hand with a firm shake. “You remember my brother, Brandon? And this is his friend, Trey.”

  Kyla smiled and shook their hands. Both claimed Miles had dragged them to Danville so early this morning they were just now realizing what was going on. She’d figured as much, from their skinny jeans and bright shirts.

  She turned back to Miles. “Well, I didn’t expect you but—” she glanced over at her family checking out the pictures on their phones “—welcome to the Coleman Farm. I hear you signed up for the tour this morning?”

  Miles rubbed his palms together in an eager gesture. “Yes, ma’am, I’m interested in your program. So I thought I’d come out and see you in action.”

  For some reason Kyla wanted to blush. She bit her lip and nodded to keep from looking stupid.

  “Okay you two, give me a smile.” Tracee jumped in front of them with her phone, poised to take a picture.

  Suddenly Miles threw h
is arm around Kyla’s shoulder and leaned in like they were old friends. She smiled and tried not to look mortified by the fact that her body tingled all over.

  “Got it.”

  Miles removed his arm, and Kyla took a deep breath. She nodded toward her family. “I hope you don’t mind the pictures. They got to you before I could ask.”

  He shook his head. “Not at all. I’m used to it.”

  “Thank you.”

  She then escorted her remaining guests out to the truck. She couldn’t keep the self-satisfied grin from her face.

  These boys have no idea what they’re about to get into.

  * * *

  During the ride out to the green fields, everyone was pretty quiet as they listened to Kyla’s pitch about healthy organic eating. She’d chosen the green fields because Rita wanted to serve collard greens for dinner, and they were pretty easy to pick. Every guest was given a basket and a pair of shears. The older guests loved picking the greens and shared stories with Kyla of younger days when they grew vegetables in their yards.

  Kyla walked over to Brandon and Trey, who seemed to be picking anything they saw. “You don’t want that one,” she instructed and took a bunch from Brandon’s hand. “See the blemishes on the leaves? No good. You only want greens with no blemishes or withering. These are pretty young, tender greens so you won’t find too many bad ones, but skip this one.”

  “This is the first time they’ve ever picked a bunch of greens that wasn’t already bagged up in the grocery store,” Miles said as he joined them.

  “Huh, I’ve never picked up a bunch in the grocery store, either,” Brandon said.

  “Well, there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?” Miles asked.

  Brandon shrugged and looked at Trey before they reluctantly continued picking greens.

  “I thought you were in the food processing business?” Kyla asked. “You guys have never worked a farm before?”

  Miles held up his basket full of greens. “Oh, I have. But it’s an introduction for these city boys. I’m trying to teach them a thing or two today.” He glanced around. “You have an abundance of greens here. Are all those rows over there greens, as well?”

  Kyla looked in the direction he was pointing. “Yes, they are. We have rows of mustard and turnip greens, and kale, as well.” When she turned back around, Miles gave her a smile that was disarmingly charming. Her pulse quickened. Damn, he’s good-looking. She forced her thoughts back to the task at hand.

  After the greens they went to pick peppers and then tomatoes before finishing up in the cherry orchard. At every stop, Kyla found herself strolling along talking to Miles.

  “Now I wish I could stick around for dinner tonight. Looks like it’s going to be good. And I don’t know when I’ve had a homemade cherry pie.” Miles plucked a cherry from the tree and popped it into his mouth. “Um, these are sweet.”

  Thank God he’s not sticking around. “Yeah, what Aunt Rita does with these cherries is amazing. Sorry you’ll miss out, because as I was saying on the ride over, the cherries are only around to harvest for about two weeks. They’re a big hit at the farmers market, and cherries without pesticides—even bigger. People know they’re getting quality fruit when they purchase from us.” She set her heavy bucket down and dropped the cherries in.

  “But how do you keep the bugs off without pesticides? That’s not a crop you can produce successfully every year, is it?” He bent over and dumped her cherries into his bucket, handing her the empty, lightweight bucket.

  “Bugs aren’t a problem, but birds are. So we’ve planted a few mulberry trees to draw them away from the cherry trees. For a successful production it’s all in the soil, and its very labor intensive. These trees are planted on the highest point of the farm with plenty of drainage and good soil depth. The fruit tree roots need water-holding capacity.”

  “Sounds like you know your fruit trees.”

  She nodded. “I do, but the farm specializes in vegetables, so we only plant a few fruits. Mind if I ask what your company’s interest is in organic foods?” Kyla asked. “Your presentation seemed to center around how you shipped overseas.”

  “That’s not all we do. My partner and I are committed to ending world hunger. We raise money for various groups and take on pet projects from time to time. We started by working on sustainable self-help solutions in third world countries to fight hunger. I’m proud to say we do a lot of good work. ‘Think globally, not just locally’ is our motto.”

  “Yes, I remember you saying that during your presentation, as well. I’ve always liked, ‘Each one, teach one,’ so I guess you can say that’s my motto.”

  Kyla held her chin high unable to keep the self-satisfied smile from her lips. She wanted Miles to know he wasn’t the only one proud of the fruits of his labor. She had a catchphrase of her own. He nodded slowly while holding his bottom lip between his teeth. The look took her breath away.

  Chapter 4

  After spending the morning in the hot sun, the truck returned to the B and B, where Kevin and Kyla carried the guests’ baskets in to Rita. A few of the guests chose to return to their rooms. Those who had signed up for Kyla’s workshop waited for her on the front porch.

  When Kyla stepped onto the porch, she thanked everyone and then led them to her workshop. Rollin had built Kyla an open-air classroom down the hill from the gift shop. A path led to the gazebo-like structure with mismatched seating that ranged from yard chairs to wooden benches. Flowers and shrubs surrounded the gazebo and a small garden was set off to the right. A sign over the structure read Rooted Beginnings Food Education Workshop.

  Kyla helped Rollin secure two interns from the local college every semester. One of the current interns, Ben, assisted with all her workshops. The other, Sean, helped out at the farmers market, which was where Kevin was headed now that he’d dropped them off.

  “Morning, Ben,” Kyla greeted the young college senior. He wore round, wire-rimmed glasses and had a baby face. He had everything set up and was just waiting for the morning tour to be over.

  “Good morning, Kyla. Everything’s laid out. I left the—” Ben stopped dead in his tracks, and his mouth fell open.

  Kyla followed his gaze and realized he recognized Miles.

  “Is that Miles Parker, the baseball player?” he asked.

  “Yes, it is. He and his friends are taking the workshop this morning.”

  “Wow! I never expected to see anybody famous around here. Does he have a farm, too?”

  Kyla glanced over at Miles, who seemed to be in a deep discussion with his brother. “I don’t know. He said he’s interested in organics. I guess we’ll see.”

  “Would it be rude of me to ask him for an autograph?” Ben looked around like he was searching for paper and a pen.

  “Ben, let’s get some work done first. He’s not going anywhere until the workshop is over.” Kyla shook her head, amazed at how much people were flipping over Miles.

  “Oh, yeah, sorry.” Ben walked over to the mobile blackboard he’d set up, along with all the tools needed to maintain a small garden.

  After everyone was seated, Kyla moved to the board and began her lecture. “Again, I want to thank everyone for signing up for Gardening Made Simple, brought to you by Rooted Beginnings. Nutrition education empowers people with the tools to make healthy decisions. Before I started my dissertation, I was astonished to find out what some people considered healthy foods. I didn’t grow up on an organic farm, but my parents had a little garden out back, and they believed in eating off the land as much as possible. So I guess you can say my introduction to gardening started at an early age.”

  Out of the corner of her eye she could see Miles staring at her, watching her curiously. The way he hung on her every word made her somewhat uncomfortable. She walked over to the blackboard and began diagramming the bare bones of how to start a
simple garden. After the first hour of the lecture, the group moved out into the small side garden she used for demonstrations.

  “Everyone grab a pair of gloves. It’s time to play in the soil.” Kyla pulled her own gardening gloves from the pile Ben had put out for everyone.

  Miles had been quiet all through Kyla’s lecture, but he walked over to her now.

  “I’m not sure if these will do me any good.” He held up his hands, showing her the ill-fitting gloves. They were too small for his big hands.

  She reached up to one glove, pulling it down so she could examine the tag just inside the wrist—large. He had big strong hands, with large veins in his wrists. “Hmm, looks like we have a situation. I don’t have any larger gloves.”

  “I can just use my hands if you have some place I can wash them afterwards.”

  “Aw, I’d hate for you to do that, but it’s not like gloves are going to protect that pretty white T-shirt of yours anyway,” she offered with a sly smile.

  “Not to worry,” he said quickly, picking up on her joke. “I’ve got plenty more.”

  She smiled. “Of course you do.”

  “Anyway, I’m looking forward to getting my hands dirty and learning everything there is to know about organic gardening. You did say you offer a hands-on approach, correct?”

  The way his brows rose with enthusiasm made Kyla laugh. “It would take years to teach you everything I know, and this is only a ninety minute workshop. How about I focus on the importance of good soil for now?”

  Miles stripped the tight gloves off and laid them on the table as he gave Kyla another one of his charming smiles that sent her pulse racing again. “I’m all yours,” he said.

  Kyla quickly fanned herself as beads of sweat formed across her forehead. She had to turn away from him. “Okay, let’s get started.”

  One of the most important segments of the workshop was for the group to be able to distinguish between soil and dirt. She briefly explained why you get rid of dirt, but preserve soil. She also detailed what soil means to farmers. Then she walked around to see who could tell the difference.