Finding Focus (8 page)

Once my heart has slowed to a normal rate, I decide to try to have a normal conversation while learning more about Micah at the same time.

“So, what was it like growing up on a plantation?”

“It’s just a house, Dani.”

“A very large house,” I counter.

“True, and it’s special to me because it’s been in my family for so long, but I wasn’t raised with a silver spoon in my mouth, if that’s what you’re wonderin’. The Landrys are no better than anyone else. Believe me, my mama would’ve tanned our hides if we ever tried to act like we were—”

“Snooty or prissy?”

Micah throws his head back and laughs, and I’m mesmerized by the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down.

“Touché, Ms. Reed.”

The truck comes to a stop at Pockets, and before I realize what’s happening, Micah is outside, opening my door for me. I murmur an awkward, “Thank you,” as he helps me out. He just shakes his head at me.

“No matter what you think of me, Dani, I
do
know how to treat a lady.”

I want to say something snarky, but I choose to be honest instead. “I didn’t mean to offend you, Micah. I guess I’m not used to chivalry.”

“Well, that’s a damn shame.”

I don’t disagree, but I also don’t respond as I unlock my rental car.

“Hey, Chuck, want me to show you around the grounds tomorrow?”

I look up at Micah as I contemplate his question, his eyes full of mischief and excitement. I should say no, but, “Sure,” slips out before I can catch it.

“Well, all right then. I’ll see you for breakfast at the house.”

I watch as he pulls himself up into his monster truck and motions for me to drive off first. I want to analyze every word we said to each other, but I have to concentrate on driving to the motel first. Rolling down my window, I let the afternoon breeze calm and distract me from the man behind me.

A minute passes before I hear my cell phone beep, alerting me to a missed email. Every time my phone makes a sound, I’m reminded that Graham still hasn’t called.

Wherever he is and whatever he’s doing, I hope he’s having fun. As pissed as I am that he left in the first place, I hope it’s worth it to him. If anything, I guess I’m hopeful he comes back feeling rejuvenated and more
human
than he was when he left.

As I pull into my parking spot at the motel, my phone rings. Accepting the call, I nestle it between my ear and my shoulder so I’m able to grab my things and lock up while answering.

“Hey, Piper!”

“Dani! How’s Louisiana treating you? Is the assignment going well?”

Piper Grey isn’t one to beat around the bush.

“Well, that depends. Are you asking as my friend or my boss?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Spill it, Sheridan.”

I get inside my room, place my things down on the small table, and plop myself on the bed, trying to decide which way to answer. Ultimately, I can’t lie to Piper, so I tell her everything.

“Answering as an employee, things are wonderful. The plantation is gorgeous, the town is quaint and adorable, and the Landrys are the epitome of southern hospitality.”

“That’s great. Now, tell me the rest.”

I let out a deep, exhausted breath. “I don’t know. I guess I feel like I’m struggling to stay professional,” I hedge, letting the last part linger like a question.

Piper laughs lightly into the phone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

I growl, feeling frustrated with myself and for Micah for being so damn attractive, but I don’t want to say any of what I’m feeling out loud. I shouldn’t have even brought it up.

“Sheridan Reed, are you fooling around with one or more of the Landrys?” I can’t tell whether Piper is excited or just shocked at the idea of me being so promiscuous.

“Of course not! It’s just that the entire family is so nice and welcoming . . . showing me around, feeding me, taking me to church—I’m having a hard time saying no to them. They hardly know me, yet they treat me like . . . like I’m family or something.”

“Do you think they might be trying to bribe you so you’ll write a flattering article?” It’s a legitimate question, but it still makes me bristle.

“No. Definitely not. I’m pretty sure they’re like this with everyone.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“The problem is I find myself forgetting I’m supposed to be working instead of filling up on delicious food and belly-busting laughter,” I pause, thinking I sound ridiculous, but needing to get this off my chest. She sent me here for a job, not a vacation. “I think I’m having too much fun.”

I fully expect Piper to make fun of me with that last statement, so I’m surprised when her tone turns more sympathetic than anything.

“Dani, there’s nothing wrong with having fun on an assignment, as long as you can remain impartial with your work. It’s no wonder you’re so drawn to them. It sounds like they’re a wonderful family . . . something you’ve been missing out on for a long time.” Although her tone is gentle, Piper’s words feel like a punch in the gut. I know she doesn’t mean to hurt me, but the truth in her words causes my eyes to fill with tears.

“Yeah, that makes perfect sense, Pipe. Thanks.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I wipe away the few tears trickling down my cheeks and swallow the lump in my throat. “I think I’m just tired. Thanks for the chat, Piper. I’ll email you what I have after I go through the pictures I’ve taken so far.”

“Okay, but you’d better call or text me if it gets too overwhelming for you. And I’m speaking as your best friend who just happens to be your boss right now, got it?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it.”

After breakfast, I meet Micah in the garage where he’s waiting for me, just like he said he would be. He’s in a golf cart wearing baggy jeans, an LSU t-shirt, and a pair of Ray Bans.

Holy shit, he looks amazing.

Stay focused, Sheridan . . . task at hand. You’ve got this. You’re a professional.

I get in the golf cart and Micah starts it up, pulling out of the garage and heading straight onto the lush green grass surrounding the property. While he’s giving me a brief history of the plantation, I start taking pictures and making notes in my journal. I have him stop when an old, rundown barn catches my eye and spend extra time playing around with the lighting and angles.

We briefly stop at Annie’s garden, but I don’t spend a lot of time there. It’s truly amazing and deserves a whole day dedicated to capturing its beauty.

“The plantation sits on fifty-five acres and there are also two cottages on the land,” Micah tells me.

“Who lives in the cottages?” I ask.

“Deacon’s in the one over there by the pond. Mine is this one right up here.” He points toward the house closer to us. It’s white with green shutters and surrounded by trees. I try not to love it instantly, but fail.

“Is this what you want? To stay on the property?”

“Yeah, I do,” he answers. “I love it here. It’s my home, and I want to share it with my own family, if I ever have one,” he answers with confidence. “What about you? Do you plan on living in the big city forever?” he asks, turning the tables.

“Forever? I don’t know about forever. That’s an awfully long time,” I say with a smile, trying to dodge the question.

He lets his sunglasses slide down to the end of his nose and raises his eyebrows over the top of them. “You know what I mean.”

“Well,” I start, feeling the storm that’s been brewing inside kick up a notch, “I’ve been there for so long, it’s hard to imagine living anywhere else. Up until my best friend, Piper, left, I really had it in my head that if I wanted to move up the ladder in my profession, New York was the place to be. But now, I’ve seen my best friend spread her wings and try something different. I was so caught up in my little corner of the world, I hadn’t even considered a different way of life . . . a life outside of the city. Being here, though, I can see why someone would want to spend their life here.” I look over at him, but his eyes are straight ahead, like he’s deep in thought. “That’s what I want to do with my article,” I continue. “I want to show others what a wonderful life there is to be had down here and make them fall in love, too.”

I’m a bit embarrassed to be opening up to Micah like this, but I feel so comfortable, I can’t seem to help it. Shrugging, I add, “That’s my job. That’s what sells magazines.”

“I’m all for people falling in love, but I’m not sure I want a bunch of damn Yankees movin’ to the Settlement,” he says, grinning.

Micah stops and parks the cart. “Ah, there he is! There’s my boy!” He jumps out and jogs toward the cottage, whistling and yelling for someone named Johnny. I assume he’s talking about a person, but when I round the corner, I realize the
people
have four legs.

“Dani! Come meet the boys!” I catch up to where Micah is kneeling on the ground, being pawed and licked by not one, but two dogs. His smile is wide and playful, showing off his white teeth.

“All right, all right! Settle down.” The dogs begin to calm and Micah wipes his face with the bottom of his shirt, briefly showing me his toned abs and a light smattering of hair traveling down past the waist of his jeans.

Happy trail, indeed.

“Dani, I’d like for you to meet Johnnie Walker and Jose Cuervo,” he says, smiling up at me. “Say hello, boys! The brown one is Deke’s and the black one is mine,” he says, still smiling like a little boy at the rambunctious dogs. They definitely take after their owners.

I can’t help but giggle as I start petting both dogs. “You and Deacon named your dogs after liquor? Are you serious?”

“That’s nothin’. Tucker has a basset hound named Hiram Walker. And we used to have a fish named Patron.”

I let out a snort.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, watching me with an amused expression.

“I’m just picturing a little Mexican fish with a poncho and a sombrero,” I tell him, and then we’re both laughing. After a minute or two, I finally stop and wipe the tears from my eyes. When I look up, Micah has stopped laughing, but a slight, crooked smile is still there. His eyes squint at me, and the twinkle I saw that first day in the parking lot is back.

I feel my knees grow weaker the longer he looks at me. I think we’re having a moment, but I’m not sure. I clear my throat, regaining my composure. If I stand here any longer, I’ll be in a puddle at his feet and that would be very counter-productive.

“Well,” I start, looking into the big black eyes of my new four-legged friends, “it’s been lovely meeting you boys, but I must get back to work,” I say in my most serious voice, patting them on their heads and giving their ears a good rubbing.

Micah and I exchange another brief look. There’s something unsaid hanging in the air, but we both awkwardly look away, and Micah encourages the dogs to move closer to the house. Filling a large bowl with fresh water, he leaves me to my work.

I retrieve my camera from the golf cart and begin walking around the property, taking pictures as I go, gaining a whole new perspective of the main house from this distance. I even manage to sneak in a few pictures of Micah when he isn’t looking. I love capturing people in their element. It’s so raw and natural. I walk a little farther down a paved-stone path toward the back of the house. There, tied between two big oak trees, is a large white hammock. I let out a little squeal as visions of my childhood come rushing back to me. Brushing my hand along the woven fabric, I close my eyes, and for a moment, I’m in knee-high green grass in the backwoods of Mississippi. Stepping back for a moment, I snap a picture as the sun hits the hammock just right between the thick leaves of the overhanging trees. This one isn’t for the article—it’s for me.

Micah jogs up to me and gives me a peculiar look.

“Are you okay?” I ask, noticing he’s a little out of breath.

“I was just getting ready to ask you the same thing.”

“Oh,” I say, a slow blush creeping up on my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I haven’t seen one of these since I was kid,” I explain. “My grandma had one in her yard. I used to love spending summer afternoons swinging and sleeping on it. I guess I got a little too excited.”

He laughs and runs a hand through his hair before slapping his baseball cap back on. “Well, by all means.” He gestures toward the hammock, encouraging me to hop on.

I gingerly sit on the edge, taking extra care not to fall on my ass in front of Micah for a second time. After successfully climbing in, I kick my legs out and make the hammock rock to life.

“Do you use this thing much?” I ask, glancing up to see Micah leaning against the closest tree.

“Not nearly as much as I should,” he replies.

I allow my head to sink into the hammock, my eyes finding a clear patch between the leaves. Once again, I’m mesmerized by how clear and blue the sky is above me. As two white puffy clouds drift by the treetops, I lift my camera and take a few shots from this perspective.

The shade from the large oak trees makes the summer heat more bearable, and as I let my mind drift off for a moment, I forget about boyfriends and jobs. I watch the clouds pass and just let myself
be
until the brilliant blue eyes staring down at me replace the pale blue of the sky.