ROMANCE

by Vanessa Rose

  “Relax,” Bartlett promised as he pushed his car into park and took hold of her hand. “I told him that I was coming with reinforcements.”

  “Just so sure that I would say yes were you?”

  “He’ll like you,” Bartlett said as he helped me from the car and patted her back. “Because you work hard, and you know your stuff.”

  Smiling in the wake of his vote of confidence, Jeri watched the front door open, and she saw a broad-shouldered man with blonde hair appear on the stoop with a shocked sneer as he looked down at Bartlett’s offering.

  “What is this?” he asked. “I asked for a man and you bring me a mouse?”

  Jeri blanched at the insult, ready to strike Bartlett pulled her slightly behind him.

  “This one is far from scraps, Hawkes,” Bartlett insisted. “Give her a chance and she’ll turn the ground all kinds of green.”

  “So you can come back to sell me more swill.”

  Bartlett’s stake in the game was not lost on her, and Jeri pushed her shoulders back as she offered a hand and tried to smile.

  “But I’m here right now,” she said. “And if you take me on, you get a good worker who doesn’t know the meaning of the word no.”

  That seemed to catch his attention, and the blonde man peered down at her as he pulled on her arm and dragged her away from Bartlett’s hold.

  “Wait!” Bartlett demanded. “Tell me that you’re going to treat her right. I didn’t bring her here for---”

  “But you brought her all the same. And you said that her name was Jerry.”

  “It is,” she insisted as she shrugged him off and tried to stand tall enough for his approval. “With an “i.” It’s short for Jerilyn. But one ever calls me that.”

  He titled his head to the side and laughed as he brushed his hands against the sides of his jeans.

  “Of course not,” he said. “Harder to lie if you own up to your identity before the interview.”

  “Mr. Hawkes, I give you my word that she knows the deal backwards and forwards,” Bartlett insisted.

  “And will the likes of her be happy in the room over the barn?” he challenged. “I’m not setting up a luxury suite.”

  “I’m not asking for that,” Jeri said. “Treat me like you would any other ranch hand.”

  “Problem is the man has next to nothing to compare it to.”

  Bartlett laughed at his own joke, and they turned in his direction, causing him to stop. Jeri looked back to the man and pursed her lips.

  “Sir, I---”

  “The name is Hawkes,” he said. “Christopher Hawkes.”

  “Fine. Christopher, I---”

  “Let’s have a little show of respect. Mr. Hawkes works just fine for me.”

  God he was an ass! Even if he looked good in the sunlight. Jeri uttered his title followed by the surname and worked to stay calm.

  “Fair enough,” she said. “Now whatever else my friend here might have told you, I am far from some shrinking violet who thinks that searching for the elephant has anything to do with safari.”

  “This is not about elephants,” he retorted. “I need a pair of hard hands to yield a bumper crop or my coffers could run dry.”

  “Will these hands do?”

  Waving her chocolate brown palms in his face, Jeri took pride in her callouses and almost thanked her mother for leaving the day-to-day labor on their meager spread in her hands. Christopher tilted his head to the side in what she almost took for a show of appreciation as he tapped one set of fingers to his jaw and narrowed his stare at Bartlett.

  “This isn’t a trick, right?” Christopher asked.

  “From me?” Bartlett shot back. “Come on, pal. Even if the parties those rich boys threw were my speed, I’m not on the guest list. And you’ve… you’ve always been fair with me, Hawkes.”

  Jeri felt Bartlett curve closer to her back as Christopher pondered the situation, and she held her breath. If this went south when she had barely struck out on her own, Jeri would have to eat more shit than a stomach could stand if she was ever going to get back in her mother’s good graces. A quick once-over of the land and Hawkes gave her ideas. She couldn’t help imagining what she could do with right tools and an ample supply of mulch.

  Hawkes himself sent her mind in other directions, ways that she hardly dared dream of given a sad track record and her preference for blue jeans. Especially given the one time when she made an effort and truly played at being a real live girl…

  “Alright then,” Christopher started as he cracked his knuckles and got right up in her face. “I suppose you’re worth a shot, but if you think I’m going to go soft on you, then you have another thing---”

  “Watch it,” Bartlett warned. “I want your word that you’ll play fair.”

  “And I will,” Christopher said. “But if this girl wants to make like she can muck in with the best of them, she’s up with the sun. She works until I say stop. And when I deem that the day is done, she takes the rack above the barn. It’s sparse, but it’s clean. Don’t want her getting any wild ideas when it comes to this…arrangement.”

  Part of Jeri wanted to form a fist and slam it into his smug jaw. He deserved that and so much more, but the idea that she could show him a thing or two and maybe beat him at his own game encouraged her to take up the challenge.

  “Good enough, Mr. Hawkes.”

  And to show that she was serious, Jeri spit into her palm and extended her arm for the obligatory handshake.

  “What is that?” he asked.

  “A man’s move,” she countered. “If it’s more than you can take, I can always wipe it off and---”

  “You think that scares me?” he challenged. “Makes me gag or something?”

  “I still don’t feel your hand in mine, sir.”

  That seemed to work its way under his skin, and as they finally shook on his terms, every hair lining her body buzzed at the contact, and Christopher nodded at Bartlett before turning on his heel.

  “So let’s see how it all goes down.”

  Chapter 4: Sad Eyes

  “You’re already up.”

  Jeri smirked through a few strands of fallen hair as she lowered her hoe and patted the mulch with the heel of her boot.

  “Looks like Bartlett sells you the good stuff,” she quipped.

  “It’s what I can afford,” he shot back.

  “How very nice for you.”

  Christopher started to fling another volley in her direction when his eyes narrowed to the sprouts starting to spring through the soil. Knowing that they were taut and firm, Jeri waited as he surveyed the patch of soil, circling his way around her before stopping at her back. His breath moved down her neck, and she felt a tingle dancing up her spine as he clicked his tongue, his shadow stretching over her head before he stepped around to face her again.

  “Maybe if you play your cards right, you’ll leave with enough cash to get your own stash.”

  That would be nice, but how could she go back home now? Her mother would never welcome her with open arms, and Jeri’s mind turned to train fare and just enough left over to leave Celina and set out on her own. Not like she would ever be able to buy her own plot, but maybe she could latch onto someone who actually wanted her to stay on and valued her---

  “But you… I mean you could slow up some,” he said. “I can’t make this happen on my own. And you… it is obvious that you know what we’re up against.”

  Fighting to suppress the smile that longed to leave her lips, Jeri stood straight as an arrow and watched him slip to a stump as he pulled a flask from his boot and took a quick sip.

  “Drinking at this hour?” she asked. “Is that why you can’t keep any other help?”

  “It’s water,” he said. “And the problem is that I don’t toe the county line. Everyone’s against me. Thus you find me all on my lonesome.”

  “Poor thing.”

  She could have gone in for the kill and told him what she thought of her meager room abov
e the barn and his habit of waiting until the last second to dole out her wages. But he suddenly looked so small sitting at her feet, she dropped the hoe as she extended her arm for the silver in his hand.

  “Do you mind if I wet my whistle?” she asked. “Even if the sun isn’t high, I’m still hot.”

  “That you are,” he whispered, his gaze penetrating hers before he averted his eyes and handed the flask over. Jeri took a quick sip and wiped the excess droplets from her lips as she fell to the ground and stretched her legs towards her handiwork.

  “So you approve?” she asked.

  “Can’t help myself,” he said. “And I’ll deny it if you ever say as much to anyone else.”

  “Thanks so much for the compliment.”

  Jeri passed the flask back into his hands. She noticed his shoulders sagging as he gritted his teeth.

  “What’s the problem now?” she asked. “You like the lay of the land. I can still put in a full day’s work.”

  “Hardly the day that’s on my mind,” he said. “This… there’s this thing tonight.”

  “Now I am intrigued!” Jeri said. “From what I see, you stick pretty close to home.”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve been spying on me.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. I could hear your truck racing down the road even if I was dead to the world.”

  “So you are getting a good night sleep,” he said.

  “You’re working me hard enough,” Jeri said.

  “I…”

  His fingers just trailed the curvy lines of her legs. Christopher seemed unaware that he was making the move, and Jeri started to lay her hand across his when he backed away and shot to his feet, pacing away from her as he looked into the wide-open sky.

  “Well you’ll hear me on the move tonight,” he started. “Other farmers in the county have this party or… or whatever. I hate even having to make an appearance he said. But---”

  “Then why even go?” she asked.

  “Got to at least try to keep up appearances,” he said. “Let them all have a good laugh when I show up solo.”

  Jeri leapt up and did not hesitate to grab his arm as she turned him to face her. She couldn’t help but notice the worry lines starting around his eyes as she trailed her touch down to his hand.

  “Solo?” she asked. “You? I kind of find that hard to believe.”

  “You’re not getting an advance,” Christopher said. “But it… it is sweet of you to say.”

  They stayed locked with their fingers interlaced as the wind lifted the grass under their feet around their ankles. She didn’t spy, but it would take a fool to see that he wasn’t a prime catch, and Jeri felt certain that he might be playing her when he hung his head.

  “You don’t know the girls around these parts,” he said.

  “Sounds like I could say the same for you.”

  He disentangled his hand from her touch as he rubbed the back of his head and turned his eyes back to his crop, bound to thrive under her care.

  “It’s a dance I don’t care to do,” he said. “Hence the hermit status. But I’ll make do. I always have.”

  Christopher smiled softly into her eyes, and his hand was gentle against her back as he started back to the house. Why the sad eyes? Having to make like he was a happy camper as he moved like a man on a death march? Jeri knew what that felt like; she had endured a prom night at her mother’s insistence so the woman could snap a photo. Not that she ever showed it off or even placed it on a dusty mantle. To quote the woman, you look like a carbon copy of a bad idea. It hurt more than the embarrassment of getting ditched at the dance for a girl with bigger breasts.

  But for some reason, Jeri still had the dress.

  “Well I… I guess I’ll leave you to it,” he said. Before he could walk away, Jeri grabbed his arm again. She watched him wince but fixed her mouth into a smile as she lowered her eyes and felt her cheeks start to blush.

  “Mr. Hawkes, I…”

  Was she really about to do this? No doubt he would laugh out loud at just the suggestion, but she was in too deep to pull out now without bearing a few bruises for her wild ideas. Let it be like band aid. Something that would tear off and not take too much skin along for the ride.

  “I… I could come with you,” Jeri whispered. “I clean up nice when I put a little effort into it. And I’d have your back. If… I mean if that like counts for something.”

  His silence caused her to close her eyes tight, and she was ready for a peal of wicked laugher when he pressed his finger under her chin. Christopher studied her face carefully, and she hated the idea that she was little more than a piece of meat about to be led to some untold slaughter when he sighed softly and nodded.

  “Maybe I could make my way through one of these shindigs with a friend,” he said.

  “Is that what I am?” Jeri asked. She swallowed hard as he backed off and smiled.

  “Just for tonight,” he said. “I’ll throw in an extra couple hundred your way if you do me the favor.”

  That was the wrong move, and Jeri stamped her boot into the ground, blasting the man for assuming that she could be bought and sold so easily when he waved his hands in a motion of total surrender, his voice strained as he spoke fast.

  “Sorry. Okay,” he said. “But I have to go. And I really don’t want to do it alone. So if you still think you can clean up…”

  Now it was a challenge, and Jeri picked up the hoe and started to work the soil as she winked at him over her shoulder.

  “Just you wait,” she said. “I think that you might like what you see.”

  Chapter 5: The Dance

  “Christ Almighty.”

  When she finished an honest day’s work, Jeri headed up to her tiny room above the barn and reached into the darkest corner of her suitcase. Why she had included the bejeweled corset resting against a tulle skirt among her meager belongings was a mystery. Even though she had no fond memories of the time spent in the garment, something told her to bring it along. Now the moment was at hand, and Jeri dressed quickly, applying her makeup to the best of her ability as she braided her hair and waited until she was just outside his front door to step into a pair of heels and knock.

  Christopher Hawkes’ reaction was like nothing that she had ever known, and Jeri smiled at his sharp suit and clean scent as she did a little twirl in the tulle and started speaking too fast.

  “In the interest of like full disclosure, I know what it is to hate to have to go to something like this. I didn’t make prom queen. For all the obvious reasons.”

  He made no sound as he stared at her with a silly grin, and when he was finally able to shake the smile away, Christopher went back to being a hard ass as he offered her something stronger than water.

  “Is that brandy?” she asked.

  “Bourbon,” he said. “Brandy is for later.”

  “So we’re looking ahead?”

  “Sounds about right.”

  As they clinked glasses, Jeri let the liquor run down her throat, and as soon as Christopher downed his drink, he set his glass aside and moved his hand over hers.

  “Might be,” he said. “You… you look… nice. And I’m almost looking forward to this.”

  Jeri smiled as her took her hand, and as they stepped off the porch and made their way to his truck, he lifted her off the ground and eased her body into the cab as he patted her thigh.

  “I can’t promise you a good time,” he said. “And I am going to pay you for your time. Not because you’re for sale, but because it’s the right thing to do.”

  “As long as you keep your hands where I can see them,” Jeri said.

  “Right on the wheel,” he insisted. “I promise.”

  They drove in silence as they approached a banquet hall tricked out with Christmas lights. No sign of snow. Something that she had never seen unless she was looking at a television screen, and she let him wrap his arm around her waist as he lowered her to the ground and smiled into her hair.

 
“You’re going to hate me for this,” he said. “Apologies in advance.”

  “Along with the extra green?”

  Christopher mirrored her wink, and they walked into a room lined with stiff suits and skimpy blondes wearing dresses that left little to the imagination. She felt like an overcooked marshmallow in the dress that she probably should have left behind as Christopher stood taller and guided her past the bar to the dance floor.

  “Mr. Hawkes, I---”

  “Just follow my lead. You’ll be fine.”

  As they turned with the music, she felt the eyes of every other man in the room on her body. And she imagined what they all wanted to do when she was out of her gown. Just the thought caused her to curl into his side, and when he turned her closer, his lips just resting against her hair, Jeri peered up at him and couldn’t help but bask in his smile.

  “Bet you’re glad right about now that I’m not a boy,” she whispered. His light laughter drifted to her ears, and she cast a side eye at the blondes who appeared born to their gowns when she felt her legs grow wobbly and his arms growing stronger.

  “So very glad,” he said. “Not that I have any kind of a problem with what the Bartletts of this world consider the extracurricular, but I like curves. In all the right places.”

  His eyes sparkled, and when the music came to came to a stop and applause rang through the air, Jeri accepted the offer of his arm as they moved towards a sharply dressed server bearing a tray of drinks. She seized a champagne flute eagerly and downed the contents in one gulp as he pressed his hand to the small of her back.

  “Easy,” he said.

  “What easy? I’m no lightweight, Mr. Hawkes.”

  “Good to know, Miss Foster.”

  Wishing that the room might suddenly evaporate around them, wondering what it would feel like to be back in his embrace and see where his hold might lead, her reverie crashed down like a boom of thunder as two slick characters in navy blue tuxedos breached their perimeter and slapped Christopher’s shoulders.