Page 17 of Out on a Limb
“That was for you.”
“I’m okay.” She added a little more to the puddle before standing straight and passing the bottle back.
“I’ve heard that before.” When it came to taking care of herself I wasn’t very trusting. “You need to stay hydrated.”
Collette’s blue eyes came my way, but they didn’t go to my face.
They caught on a spot at the center of my collar bone, swinging from side to side before finally moving up. They widened just a little before dropping away.
I glanced down at my chest and shoulders, wiping one hand across them. “Do I have something on me?”
Her head shook sharply as she turned away from me, the flush on her face deepening. “Nope.”
I started to go after her, planning to do whatever it took to get her into the air conditioning, but Mark stepped right in my way.
“We’re going to go get started on cleaning this nightmare up.” The head gardener turned to his team, pointing one finger to the sky and whipping it around in the universal sign for ‘wrap it up’. His full attention went back to Collette. “If you need anything give me a call.”
Collette gave him a smile that I wished was pointed my direction. “Thank you so much for all you do.”
Mark tipped his head in a nod. “It’s my pleasure, Miss Colette.”
Collette watched as the landscapers packed up and disbanded, separating into sets of two before heading in different directions, ready to do what it took to get the garden back together.
“I’m going to go check and see what all we lost.” Julia’s scowl was strong enough to make her feelings simple to decipher.
It’s why I tended to talk to her more than most people. I could read her. Every expression she made was clear and easy to identify.
No reading between the lines required.
“I’m going to go grab lunch for everyone.” Collette turned to go to her buggy.
“I’ll come with you.” There were a dozen of us and that was a lot of food for one person to juggle. Especially a person who was already juggling so much.
Collette’s feet skidded to a stop as I worked my way into the tiny seat of the golf cart she used to get around the property. It was even smaller than the ones used by the landscapers, so one of my legs hung outside, and my knees nearly hit the dashboard.
Her lips pressed together as she stared my way. “You look like a big guy in a little coat.”
“I haven’t worn a coat in years. It’s one of the perks of living in Florida.”
She smiled, not like she did at Mark a few seconds ago, but I’d take it. “I had to buy a coat when we went to England. I didn’t own any.”
And just like that I was dragged back to reality.
Because while she might not be scared of dirt, and might have accidentally befriended a chicken, Collette Johnson was still Florida royalty.
The youngest generation of a family with money older than the United States.
The family she came from wasn’t just wealthy. They weren’t just connected. They weren’t just well-known.
They were the elite.
And I was a farm boy who liked plants and played Magic the Gathering.
Collette suddenly bounced to one side, letting out a little yelp. She scowled down at her feet. “Ow.”
The little rooster she’d carried around all morning gave her ankle another peck.
She scooped him up, tucking him under one arm before plopping down beside me.
