Page 71 of Good Directions

18

SAWYER

“Anton Hayes!” a shrill, syrupy Georgia accent exclaims, cutting through the air like a freshly sharpened sword. “Did you think you were going to get away with not introducing me to your friend?”

“I had hoped so…” Anton mutters under his breath, before whipping us around. “Miss Pixie!”

I don’t know if it’s the sudden movement or the woman with tangerine-colored hair and Coke-bottle glasses making a beeline for us that catches me off guard more. Both are more than enough to throw me off balance, the wobble in my step not going unnoticed. Anton reacts with ease, wrapping an arm around my waist like it’s the most natural move in the world, pulling me into his side to steady me. Something that makes the middle-aged woman’s eyebrows rise with delight.

“I haven’t seen you for weeks, young man,” she chides as she joins us, sizing us up and down.

“It is peach season; I spend most of my time in the field.”

“And yet you haven’t brought me a single one.”

I feel the muscles in the arm Anton has wrapped around me tense up, and I can tell it’s more than just about trying to hold back a smart-ass response. Yes, whoever this woman is obviously is someone that he has to watch his mouth around. But this goes beyond that. This is also about how personally he’s still taking the bad crop.

There is nothing I can do or say that is going to change it. I know that. Not only because I’ve tried, but because these last few weeks have taught me that’s who he is. Deep down, under all the sarcasm and instigating, is someone who cares more than anyone knows. So, I do what I can—slip my hand into his and squeeze. Letting him know I’m here.

That I’ve got him.

“It’s a lean year, Miss Pixie. Everything we’ve had has made it to wholesale or the stands, unless we had to scrap it.”

“And yet I’m sure Miss Belle and Dolly still got some…”

Just who the hell is this woman?

“Anywho…” She bats her eyelashes, her voice going singsongy again, and I’m once more reminded why I prefer plants to people. Plants do not pull this kind of shit. “You must be Sawyer, the expert from the Agriculture Department who is visiting this summer.”

And plants are also never small-town gossips.

This woman is the Hickory Hills version of Abilene Reed. Got it.

“I am.”

I nod politely, not knowing how else to respond. She clearly knows who I am, while I have exactly nothing on her. Nor do I care. All I want is to find where we’re going to be sitting so I can park myself next to Anton and watch this movie.

“I’ve heard all about the work y’all have been doing, but we haven’t seen you up at HQ. Not a once.”

HQ?

I look to Anton, silently begging for a lifeline. I have no idea what she means by HQ. I’ve been to every field, grove, or orchard that Hayes owns. Made a number of visits to the processing plants, as well as the different barns and other outposts that the field crews use. Not to mention the countless hours I have spent in the greenhouse and lab. If Hayes Agriculture has another headquarters, Anton and Cary have never mentioned it. At this point, I feel like they would have.

“The main Hayes Industries building over off Ridge Road,” he says.

Oh, that.

Yeah, I have not been there. There hasn’t been a reason for me to visit the corporate offices. Hell, Anton barely spends any time there. Other than his Monday meeting with his siblings that they have a funny name for, or an occasional lunch, he’s in the lab or the fields.

“Pixie is in charge of reception.”

“Director of First Impressions,” she corrects him. I bite my tongue, barely containing my laughter. Because if ever there was a corporate speak title, that is it. Holding out her hand, she finally introduces herself. “Pixie Jerald. It is lovely to put a face to the name.”

Doin’ great on the first impression, Pixie…

“We really do need to get you up to HQ. Can’t have you bein’ like this one and hiding in the greenhouse all the time. Come by Monday and we’ll have lunch⁠—”

“We should be off, Miss Pixie. Need to go find Cary and Tizzy and get our seats,” he cuts her off, clearly as ready as I am to be done with this conversation. “Don’t want to miss any of The Goonies.”