Patrick sat with his hands folded in his lap, his feet up on the desktop as Garrison rambled on and on about losing the bid at auction. Patrick knew his friend well enough to know there would be at least a dozen more auctions before he would be willing to let this one go.
“You should have countered. You should have bid two million dollars. There’s no way she could have beaten that.”
“You don’t know that. And what if she had? How high were you willing to go?”
“As high as I needed to,” Garrison snapped.
“So, you would have been willing to watch your profit margin on this project dwindle away just to say you won? Your father would have had a field day with that.”
Garrison shrugged as he dropped onto the chair in front of the glass-topped desk. “What was his problem, anyway? He never said a word the whole way home. That’s definitely unlike him.”
This time Patrick shrugged. “You would know better than I would. He’s your father, not mine.”
Garrison shifted the conversation. “So, what’s up with you and that Stallion woman? Why were you talking to her?”
Patrick’s shifted in his seat. For a brief second, he thought about telling a little white lie, then didn’t. “I asked her out to dinner. I’d like to get to know her.”
“So now you’re fraternizing with the enemy?”
Patrick chuckled. “Why does she have to be the enemy?”
“Because she beat me, that’s why!”
He shook his head. “She’s a beautiful woman and I’m interested.”
“What about my sister? I thought you two were going to try to make things work.”
Patrick glanced toward the ceiling with an exaggerated eye roll. Garrison had two sisters, Giselle and Georgina. For two years, he and Giselle had been an item, but Patrick had known early on that they had very different life goals. Like her brother, Giselle was selfish, and she could be very mean-spirited when it suited her needs. He couldn’t imagine spending a lifetime with her. They’d ended things amicably, but he knew she held out hope that one day, maybe, he would change his mind and choose her.
“Isn’t Giselle dating some tennis pro?”
“She’s dating, but you know Giselle. She gets bored easily.”
“Sounds like someone else I know. How are things with you and Barbie, Bridget, Brenda... What’s her name?”
Garrison smirked. “Bridgette! She’s a supermodel, you know. She’s done Sports Illustrated twice.”
“So how are things with you and Bridgette?”
“Things are good. She doesn’t annoy me, so it works.”
“Well, I’m glad for you. Which is why I’m taking Ms. Stallion to dinner. Giselle annoys the hell out me!”
His friend laughed. “Yeah, I can see that.” He stood up, heading in the direction of the door. “Let me know how that works out for you. Maybe you can convince her to sell me that land for a profit. For a very small profit, of course.”
Patrick shook his head as Garrison made his exit. He didn’t bother to respond.
* * *
“It’s not a date,” Naomi said into the phone receiver, pulling her legs beneath her as she settled on the bed. “Okay, maybe it is a date. But it’s not serious.”
Natalie laughed on the other end. “You are so funny! When’s the last time a man took you to dinner?”
Naomi laughed with her sister. “How old are you?”
Natalie’s amusement billowed over the phone line. “Noah told us you start blushing and get all tongue-tied when he’s around. I think that’s pretty serious.”
“Noah likes to exaggerate. To be honest with you, I don’t even know why I told that man I’d go out with him. I’m thinking about canceling.”
“You like him, that’s why. And, no, you will not cancel. You need to go have some fun.”
“Still, wasn’t it our mother who said all men are dogs and not worth the effort?”
“Our mother also said life is about living your dreams,” Natalie said softly, quoting the words they’d heard Norris Jean say repeatedly while they were growing up.
“Live the ride!” both women chorused, remembering the quote their mother had cut from a magazine once. Life is not meant to be lived such that we cross over well groomed and attractive, but rather that we slide in sideways, champagne in one hand, strawberries in the other, clothes in tatters, our bodies completely worn and totally spent, shouting, “WOO-HOO! What a ride!” It was what Norris Jean had wanted for all her children. For them to live their lives with complete abandon.
Naomi nodded into the receiver. “Well, it’s really not all that serious. We’ll probably never see each other again after.”
Natalie laughed. “Keep saying it and you might actually believe it.”
“Why did you call me?”
“How are you doing after running into our father? Noah said that wasn’t good.”
“It wasn’t anything. He spoke, we didn’t. We left.”
“I wish I’d been there. I want to know why he abandoned us the way he did. I would have asked him.”
“I got the distinct impression that he doesn’t see it that way. He asked me if I knew who he was, like he was the Pied Piper and I should have been in awe of him.”
“And you didn’t say anything to him?”
“I asked him if he knew who I was, then Noah got between us and he and I left.”
Naomi could picture her sister shaking her head. “Do you think you’ll see him again?” Natalie asked.
Naomi paused, pondering the question. “I hope not,” she said softly, but there was something in her voice not quite convincing.
Natalie allowed the moment to sweep between them, sensing a longing and a disappointment that she’d never heard from her sister before. She wasn’t sure how to deal with it so she changed the subject. “So, what are you wearing on your date?”
* * *
Patrick had called her twice, and twice Naomi hadn’t answered, though he’d left messages in her voice mail both times. He was starting to feel as if he was being snubbed and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit. The third time wasn’t going to be a charm for her or anyone. As he pulled his car onto the gravel drive of Norris Farms, he was determined to alter that, to change her mind and ease any doubt she might be having about going out with him.
The property wasn’t at all what he’d anticipated. The driveway led to a picturesque farmhouse with a wide front porch and colorful awnings. Baskets of fruits and vegetables were available for sale, and there was a quiet bustling energy that seemed to vibrate through the early-evening air. As he stepped out of his car, a robust woman with jet-black, waist-long hair captured in two ponytails waved at him, her smile warm and inviting.
“¡Hola, senor! If you are here to buy the vegetables, we’ll be closing in a few minutes!”
Patrick smiled back. “Thank you. But I was looking for Naomi