Hey Jude (Lennox Valley Chronicles #1)

As he turns and walks back to his crew, Nat’s eyes follow him for a few paces, then widen as she turns to me with her mouth agape. A delighted and knowing grin spreads across her face.

“O-le-na!” She punctuates each whispered syllable with a slap to my upper arm, devolving into suppressed cackles. She’s clearly relishing the delicious horror of having witnessed me making a fool of myself in front of Jude—Jude, who, I now realize, I had neglected to describe to Nat last night. The look on her face tells me she wasn’t expecting… him.

With a muffled groan, I slowly slouch down into my seat, lower and lower, until I’m sure I’ve disappeared from view altogether. I let the last few minutes wash over me and feel a fresh twinge of self-loathing.

Sinkhole, take me now.

10

OLENA

Alone in my bedroom that evening, I open my laptop to check my bank account for the tenth time this weekend. I’ve been watching my balance steadily circle the drain, feeling more and more anxious about my dwindling funds with each passing day. When the page loads this time, however, I almost yelp with joy at what I see: my last Seattle client has finally paid me. Relief washes over me. I immediately call the repair shop that’s holding my car hostage and tell the man who answers that I’ll be there tomorrow morning to pay what’s owed and pick it up. I hang up and exhale loudly.

Thank you, universe. Finally, I’ll have my own way out to the Faulkner property on Monday. This is perfect timing so I can get to work. At the property. With Jude.

Jude. Images of him float into my mind. That first moment when he lifted his umbrella and I saw those green eyes. The way his hair fell in front of his face when he was concentrating on his notes. The devilish grin on his face after he gave me the protein bar.

I open my portfolio and pull out his business card. Sharpe Blades Landscaping.

I type it into the search engine before I can think better of it. His website loads to show smiling faces in beautiful gardens, happy customers standing on pathways, and laughing families picnicking on grass. I click through the gallery of images but don’t find any of Jude. I catch myself feeling slightly deflated and search for Jude Sharpe Lennox Valley instead. No social media profiles. Weird. I find one tiny, low-quality group photo from four years ago, evidently from a fundraiser for the Lennox Valley Conservation Society that was profiled in the local paper. Zooming in on the photo just makes it blurrier. I squint at the screen, trying to make out which guy in a ball cap is him…

I jump at the knock on my door, slamming my laptop shut in a panic.

“Yeah?” I squeak, my strange voice giving me away. I clear my throat.

What the hell am I doing?

Wyatt opens the door and peers in with a puzzled expression. “Everything cool?”

“Yup, just working. You know, getting things ready for Monday.” I smile awkwardly with over-exaggerated pleasantness.

“Okay…” Wyatt eyes me suspiciously. “Anyway,” he says, gesturing to the door with his thumb, “I was just gonna let you know Sam and I are heading out to grab dinner in about ten minutes.”

“Oh, awesome, have a great time.”

He turns to leave.

“Oh, and hey, I finally got paid!” I do jazz hands to accentuate the significance of this news.

“Oh my God, it’s about time!” he says, sagging with relief against the doorframe. “So happy to hear that.”

“I know. Now I can get my car back tomorrow,” I add.

“That’s perfect timing with the new job.”

“I know, right?”

Wyatt steps into my room to give me a quick hug, reminds me not to get sucked into working late, then leaves, shutting the door.

I open the laptop again and immediately close the browser tabs with Jude’s website and the news article. Digging out my notebook, I take a breath to reset myself, reviewing my scribbled notes from the tour. I try to jot down some additional ideas, but nothing comes to me. Pulling up my design software instead, I hope that will work to get me in the zone. I stare at the screen blankly and try to force my brain to think through the design steps that are usually second-nature to me. Uh, trees. There were trees.

I’m having trouble focusing. Thoughts of Jude’s abrupt exit on Thursday are hogging all my mental bandwidth, my humiliating hoodie mishap this morning coming in at a close second. Why do I always embarrass myself in front of him? I get as far as saving a blank file in a folder named “Faulkner” before giving up on work.

I grab my favorite stress ball, the one with green glitter gel inside, and pace the room. Squeezing it and watching the green sparkles bulge out between my fingers, I try to channel some of my nervous energy, but all my thoughts return to one person.

What was going through Jude’s mind, anyway? First he gave me a snack, then turned cold and bolted. Then, this morning at the park, I could have sworn he was almost flirting with me…

He probably thinks you’re ridiculous. Because you keep acting ridiculous.