Page 8 of There's Pumpkin About You
Present Day
“How long are you out for again?”
“Six more weeks… minimum.”
Sebastian blows out a breath as he leans back in the seat opposite. He runs a hand through his brown hair. “That’s not great, but it’s also not the end of the world. I’m going to come in earlier and stay later to help you with the paperwork.”
I shake my head. “You need to focus on the harvest. I’ll be working half as fast as I was before and asking Sam for help is about as useful as the crap on the bottom of my shoe. There’s no benefit to losing one more person to admin.” I can feel his desperate stare on the top of my head. “There’s even less benefit to opening an events space when we can’t spare anyone to manage it and we definitely can’t afford it.”
A small smirk graces my brother’s face. “You sure you’re not just saying that because of a certain hottie you argued with earlier today?”
“No,” I snap. “I’m saying that because there is no way you can harvest three fields of pumpkins by the end of the month and help ‘Scream McGee’ out with the barn as well.”
Bash’s eyes roll. “You underestimate me, clearly.”
“No, I don’t. One field contains fifty-two rows of pumpkins. One pumpkin takes roughly three minutes to harvest, if you include the time between checking it hasn’t rot and actually removing it from the vine. Therefore, if you were to do it yourself, assuming that there is roughly one hundred and… twelve pumpkins per row, that would mean you would be spending three hundred and thirty-six minutes per row, or just over five and half hours. That equals seventeen thousand, four hundred and seventy-two minutes—just over two hundred and ninety hours—to harvest one field alone. Now take into account the following factors…” I list them off as I hold up a finger for every item. “… Sam can’t help you every day throughout the harvesting period because he’s fucking useless; time needs to be added for how long it takes to attach Mori to the sled, stack the crates onto the sled, and move Mori from one location to another as you work your way down the row; and finally, whilst you can carry a bit, your stamina is naturally very low and you roughly require a break of at least ten minutes after every seven pumpkins harvested.”
The room is silent as Bash stares at me. We look similar enough that you are able to see some kind of relation, but no one ever guesses brothers if they meet us for the first time. Whilst I am all sharp features and deep frowns, Sebastian is soft smiles and booming laughs. His dark brown hair, and green eyes create a large contrast to my lighter strands and brown gaze.
Sebastian always looks at me with confusion, but never judgment. At least that’s what he told me. Facial expressions are an enigma at the best of times.
“You scare me sometimes.”
I shrug and lean back in my desk chair. “It’s basic math.”
“So is Wren’s proposal, Auggie. In the long term this is the perfect way to make some extra money and get the farm looking more appealing to our customers.”
“It’s too unbalanced. She is gaining less than we are in this situation, so I don’t trust it.”
Bash tilts his head. “Dude,” he says blankly. “She’s making a name for herself in Eaglewood. You know what they’re like here. They’re all vultures. Anything new and they’re all clawing at it like the last scrap of food in winter.”
He’s not wrong. The people in this town are so used to cutting themselves off from the world that when something new comes along, they lunge at it. They treat every change in the town like it’s either the plague coming to Eaglewood, or a blessing in disguise. As someone who relies on routine and is the biggest enemy of change, you’d think that this mindset would be some kind of twisted turn-on for me, and yet it’s exactly what I hate most about this town.
Judging by the way Wren spoke to Bash earlier today—all charming smiles and polite nature—I wouldn’t be surprised if they all come to the farm to kiss her taut ass. Huh, maybe Emilio did bite it.
“Just think about it and give her a call, okay? Maybe even ask her out on a date.”
I cringe as he stands up and starts towards the door. “Why the hell would I do that?”
Bash turns to smile at me. “You may be shit at reading other people, Auggie, but whether you like it or not you’re an open book. And I could tell for a fact that you like the shit out of that woman.”
ChapterFive
WREN
The Sweet Cinnamon Café encompasses everything a small town should—cozy atmosphere, quiet yet judgmental gossip and the juxtapositional stares of business owners who can’t decide if they want to welcome the extra customers or tell the newbies to go away.
A guy with closely cropped red hair and a cautious smile greets me as I walk up to the counter.
“Welcome to the Sweet Cinnamon Café,” he drawls. He looks me up and down. “You’re new.”
“That obvious, huh?” I chuckle.
“No, just that it’s a small town. I’d remember a face like yours. It’s too symmetrical and young not to.”
I touch one cheek and then the other with a shy smile. “Well, thanks. I’m liking you already.”
“Hard not to.” He winks. “Now what can I get for ya?”
