“All right, I’ll take your advice. This time.”

Marty nodded, not looking up from his plate. “If my advice steers you wrong, you can hand me over to the FBI.”

She laughed again. This kid was something else. “Great idea.”

Chapter Thirteen

Maybe the tie was too much. Chip tugged at it, cursing himself. The cologne, too. Why was it seeping off him in such a sickening way? He’d only done two puffs, hoping to freshen up for his meeting with Claire.

It was the wrong way to go about things, it seemed. He now felt – and smelled – like a sleazy salesman. A sleazy fruit salesman.

Terrific.

He got to the orchard early, which was good, because it took fifteen minutes to get a table. Claire walked in precisely at seven o’clock and he stood, waving at her.

“Hi!” she said as she walked over.

She looked enchanting, causing him to lose his train of thought for a moment. Her dark hair was pulled back with some sort of a sparkly clip, and when she took her coat off, he had to force himself not to stare.

He didn’t remember exactly what she’d worn that morning, but it wasn’t this. At first he thought it was a sweater, but then he realized it was actually a dress. Whatever it was, she looked pretty, and much more comfortable than he did.

“This is exciting,” she said, taking a seat.

“Yeah, it’s a great place.” He handed her a menu. “Are you hungry? The food here is good, too.”

Claire shook her head. “Not really, I already had dinner. Sorry. I thought we were just getting cider.”

“No problem,” he said. “I’m sure you were hungry after Rhonda put you to work.”

Claire laughed. “I was, but we had a nice time. And now I have a whole new section on my list of improvements.”

“Ah, yes.” Chip smiled. “A list of demands from housekeeping.”

“It’s not that bad,” Claire said.

“Yeah?”

She put the menu in front of her face, leaving only her eyes peeking out. “Do you want to hear it now?”

“Sure. Why not?”

Claire ducked behind the menu. “All right, so they’d like new carts, new vacuums, an unscented cleaning product option, and dispensers in the showers.”

He crossed his arms. “Why didn’t they ask me for any of this stuff? I would’ve gotten it for them.”

Claire’s face reappeared, a small smile dancing on her lips. “I think they may be afraid of you.”

“Afraid of me? Why?”

She set her menu down. “You’re the boss. Everyone’s afraid of the boss.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. Was she wearing lipstick? She looked so nice…

“Especially when the boss is you,” she added with a smile.

He didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. Chip leaned forward. “Are you afraid of me?”

“Of course,” she said without missing a beat.