Page 8 of Sparring Partners
Adrian glared at him, as though challenging Luca to argue. But the man was right and polytunnelling, which was really nothing more than green housing, was a way of ensuring an unbroken supply. Which was the reason he’d made the journey to the back of beyond and was now wearing a pair of too big wellingtons lent to him by the touchy, ill-tempered farmer.
Luca followed him into one of the tunnels, the heat instantly dampening his skin. Neat rows of the region’s rich, red earth ran the length of the tunnel, on top of which nestled the variegated greens, deep reds and purple leaves of salad crop. Rocket, lambs lettuce, lollo rosso, and a host of others, all of it vibrant and bursting with life.
“I grow salad crops and herbs year round because the demand’s there. I’m all for growing and eating seasonally, just like many people, but in the winter when the only things that’d otherwise be available are turnip, swede, and parsnip, with a side order of cabbage, conviction tends to weaken when faced with that particular reality. I don’t suppose your guests at the hotel would be too enthusiastic with little more than root veg for three or four months of the year.”
Luca laughed. He couldn’t help it, because the surly farmer was right. He caught Adrian’s eye, the suggestion of a smile in their gold flecked, dark green depths.
“It’s the soft herbs we’re most interested in, but also salad crops. The New House prides itself on serving locally sourced organic food, everything from meat, milk, and fruit and veg. Is your produce organic?”
“Of course. No pesticides or synthetic fertilisers here. Just hard work and dedication. I’ve got every certificate under the sun to prove it.” Adrian swooped and plucked up a few rocket leaves, a half smile on his lips as he held them out to Luca, his gaze intent and direct. “Have a taste and tell me what you think.”
A shiver tumbled down Luca’s spine, despite the humid heat in the tunnel. He plucked the leaves from Adrian’s hand, held out like a challenge, taking care not to let his fingers brush against Adrian’s. Biting down on the soft leaves, he was hit by their peppery punch, the flavour vibrant and mouthwatering.
Luca’s mind raced. The produce they bought in was top quality, but this was miles ahead.
“Most of this is destined for restaurants I supply in Exeter, and other businesses closer to home, with the surplus being sold in the weekly farmers’ market.”
“My executive chef keeps a keen eye on the market, she?—”
A scowl settled over Adrian’s face and Luca swallowed a sigh. Tactless and grumpy, Rhonda and Adrian Hardy were two peas out of the same pod.
“I believe I’ve already apologised on her behalf if she was?—”
“Rude and prickly?”
“And you’re not?” The words were out of Luca’s mouth before he could stop them. Heat flooded his face as Adrian stared at him, his expression closed off and unreadable.
Oh, god… “That was inexcusable. I apologise?—”
“Is this how you conduct all your meetings with potential suppliers? Are you and your chef some kind of bad cop, good cop double act?”
Luca’s back stiffened, his patience wearing thin. “I’ve apologised. More than once. But she wouldn’t have approached you if she didn’t think it was worth doing so, because her standards are second to none. I’m sorry if you don’t believe you’ve been given the deference you clearly feel is your due. To be frank, and because you’ve made it clear how much you appreciate plain talk, I see little point in pursuing a potential business partnership, not when you’re so clearly prone to tantrums?—”
“Tantrums?” Adrian said quietly, his eyes narrowing.
Luca shivered, despite the heat and the sweat pooling in his armpits, the base of his back, and the slow trickle of a bead inching down his spine. He’d crossed a line, had acted counter to the professional he knew himself to be, but it was too late to go back now. He’d be lucky if Adrian bloody Hardy didn’t pick him up and throw him out. The man was certainly tall and strong enough to do it.
“I’ve been accused of a lot of things, but never being prone to tantrums. Maybe she caught me at an off moment. Just like you did me, last night. I’ve had a lot on my mind these last few days.”
Another not quite apology, but… “I shouldn’t have said what I did. It was wrong and unprofessional. But let’s not waste each other’s time. Is it worth me being here, or should I turn around and get back in my car?”
“Because I might have another tantrum, you mean?”
Luca shrugged. Adrian had said it, not him.
Adrian tilted his head, his eyes boring into his. Luca fought the impulse to look away. For god’s sake… he’d dealt with trickier, touchier individuals than Adrian Hardy… Another bead of sweat inched its way down his spine.
“You came here to talk business,” Adrian said slowly, “but we got off on the wrong foot. Let’s talk and see if we can reach an agreement. But I should warn you, I don’t let my stuff go cheaply. My produce is streets ahead of anybody else’s for miles around. I can let you have what you want, for a price. Follow me. I’ll show you what you came here for, and you can take some samples back with you.”
Like the first, the next polytunnel was full of fresh produce, the heady aroma of herbs reminding Luca of the sun drenched Mediterranean. Fresh and fragrant, they danced on the tongue.
“And what about delivery? Can you guarantee timely shipments?”
“You’ll get your produce fresh and on time.”
Luca resisted the urge to breathe in deep. The rich scent of the herbs, of the warm earth, mingled and merged with the deep musk of Adrian’s raw masculinity.
“Timely delivery’s crucial.” Luca’s voice was little more than a croak. He tugged at the collar of his shirt before loosening off his tie and undoing the top button. It was hard to breathe, the air in the tunnel all of a sudden too hot, too thick, too?—
