Page 89 of Out on a Limb
Julia stood in the open passenger’s door of Grant’s flashy car.
I flattened the smile I hadn’t realized I was wearing. “Nothing.”
“You sure?” She closed the door. “Cause it looked like you were staring at Collette’s ass.”
“Not her ass.” Notonlyher ass. “How was lunch?”
“Excellent.” Julia waved as Grant pulled away. “How was checking out my friend’s ass?”
“Hmph.” I went toward the gate at the side of the garden.
“Really? That’s all I get?Hmph?” Julia stayed with me as I unlocked it and went inside, closing and locking it behind us.
“That’s all you get.” I tipped my head at one of the gardeners as he cut along the edging of the main lawn with a trimmer.
“That’s—” Her lips clamped together at the sight of Alan and Wilfred hustling their asses in our direction.
I braced, thinking they were coming with questions about what happened last night, but neither man slowed down as they plowed toward us.
“Move.” Wilfred’s demand was short and sharp.
I grabbed Julia right before the men collided with her, pulling her out of their way.
She gaped after them. “They were just going to run me down.” She scoffed. “Assholes.”
“Hopefully all this will blow over and they’ll go back to their normal work schedule.” I knew it wasn’t going to happen, but Julia didn’t, and I wanted to give her a little hope to cling to.
Julia grabbed the bag hooked over her shoulder and pulled it a little closer as she continued to watch Alan and Wilfred. “Maybe.”
There was something off in her words.
She turned my way, her expression changing so fast I couldn’t read what had been there. “We should go get to work.” She walked off toward the back of the garden.
Something was wrong.
Maybe she was as upset by the thought of having to find a new job as I was.
Except Julia wouldn’t necessarily have to find a new job. She was in a very different position than I was. Work was optional for her.
Which was good since she would be even less enthused about returning to her past than I was with the possibility of returning to mine.
It’s not that I hated my life before. I had good parents. A nice family.
Farming just didn’t fulfill me.
Not like working at the garden did.
“Andrew.” Mark, the head gardener, jogged my way across the grass, his eyes moving from side to side.
“Everything okay?” Mark wasn’t easily excited, so the fact that he was running was enough to have me concerned.
“We need to do something with those chickens.” He turned to look back toward the corner of the property where the pen sat. “A few of them were missing when I came in this morning.”
“Weird.” I kept my expression flat.
“And one of the ladders was out on the ground back by the big tree.” He stepped closer. “I think those assholes are up to something back there.”
Someone was up to something, it just wasn’t who he thought it was.
