“Dude, that’s fucked up,” I tell myself. I talk out loud to myself a lot. “You can hire her or date her, but you can’t do both.”
“That’s a relief. I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
Startled, I spin around, almost spilling my coffee.
Oh. Shit.
Of course, it’s her. Jane. Her fitted flannel shirt is tied in a knot at the hem. Jeans hug every curve. And a pair of shitkickers. Her long hair is tied up into two space buns and she’s wearing no makeup except a little shine on her lips.
I have to fire her on the spot. I’m so into staring at this vision, I’m going to get no work done today.
“I was just talking to myself,” I say dumbly.
“I know,” she says with a wide smile.
“Because you’re my employee and that would be wrong. To ask you on a date,” I add.
“I don’t date much anyway,” she says with a shrug. Her hands are tucked into her back pockets so her elbows stick out. With the sunlight shining from behind her, it looks like she’s got angel wings if I squint real hard. “It’s too hard making arrangements for sitters in a town where I know nobody.”
“So, where’s Sarah today?”
Jane explains that Rocket is babysitting until she’s able to find childcare. “Rocket and I go way back. When I needed…a change of scenery, she dropped everything and came to pick me up. I sold my Audi to pay off my apartment lease so I wouldn’t get sued for breach of contract and bought that bucket,” she says, gesturing to her car in the driveway, which is so old I’m shocked I didn’t hear her pull up to the house.
“Rocket was so worried she flew across the country just so I wouldn’t have to travel alone with a toddler, and she wouldn’t let me pay for her plane ticket to come and get me. She let us stay with her in her tiny little trailer until I found a rental, and we barely had room to move around Sarah’s Pack ’n Play.”
Not that I get a vote in the matter of who my best friend Jet settles down with, but this story makes me feel ten times better about his whirlwind romance with Rocket.
“Rocket insists on watching Sarah for me during the day before she goes off to her job at night, and I wouldn’t ask her to babysit on her only nights off. Most guys have no interest in a toddler for a third wheel. So, that’s why I don’t date much.”
Good, I think to myself. I’m glad nobody else is interested, because you’re mine. I know a good woman when I see one, and Jane is a good woman and an amazing mom. I like everything about her.
“Their loss,” I say. We hold each other’s gaze for a few beats before she looks away self-consciously.
“Oh,” she says brightly, and I sense a subject change. “I hope this is OK.” She gestures up and down at her ensemble.
I smile and try not to lick my lips like a total perv. “It’s perfect for you. I mean…”
I don’t finish because she interrupts. “I mean for work. It’s good for the work we’re doing today, right? The guy at the farm store said I needed these boots. If not, I can change out of these clothes.”
“Yes, do. I mean, don’t. I mean, yes, that’s…that’s an appropriate use of clothes for you. I mean, not that you need to use clothes.”
She laughs. “Excuse me?”
Why am I such a creep around this lady? “I mean, yes, that’s a good outfit for what we have to do today. Ignore everything else I said.”
To my relief, she laughs too. Not at me, but with me. I could not possibly like her more. My reckless feelings compel me to memorize the way she nervously fills the silence with her words, and tries to change the subject when everything she says and everything I say has a double meaning. I could talk to her and watch her all day.
“Would you like some coffee before we start?” I offer. “I just brewed a fresh pot.”
She wrinkles up her cute little button nose. “I’m more of a Diet-Coke-in-the-morning person. I know, bad habits.”
I look around. “Sorry, I don’t have any of that.”
Jane turns on a professional expression and says, “Actually, I’m fine. I’m caffed up already. It’s probably best if we keep the socializing to a minimum. For both our sakes. I’d love to go ahead and get started.”
I nod, even though my chest is having that weird ache again. I like an employee who wants to get right to work. I like eager people, even if she’s not eager to be here to get to know me.
“This way to the hay wagon,” I say, heading off to the old restored tractor, to which I’ve hitched up a wagon that’s loaded down with supplies. I offer a hand to help her step up. When she takes it, the touch of her hand does something to me. I feel her, not just across my skin but under it. I squeeze her hand gently before she lets go and finds a spot to sit inside the wagon, both of us pretending we didn’t feel anything at all in that little moment.
It comes as no surprise, but Jane is a hard worker and doesn’t complain once. She’s small but strong.
By the time I’ve decided to break for lunch, the entire footpath through the corn maze has been cleared of debris and silage. I follow the trail around the entire maze—I think—but I can’t seem to find her. I’m worried the lunch I had delivered out here from the diner is going to get cold.
This would be a good reason to have bought walkie-talkies. I add them to the mental list of things to shop for tonight in preparation for opening day. I hadn’t planned on hiring anyone to work this place
