Chapter 2: The Meeting

When Jamie arrived at the address, she was met with a long gravel driveway, and halfway down, there was a bridge with no side protection.

“If I don’t stay perfectly straight, I’m going straight into the creek,” she said out loud.

After crossing the bridge, just a little ways up, she saw a big white farmhouse with yellow shutters and a yellow doorframe. The yard was nicely mowed, with a beautiful sidewalk and wildflowers growing up the sides. She noticed the horses and cattle, and she was falling in love with the farm. As Jamie walked up to the porch, she heard something on the side of the house. She walked around and saw a man who looked to be in his 50s, digging out old mulch to replace it with new.

“Excuse me, Mr. Shark?” she said.

“Well, yeah, you could call me that, I guess. Who are you?”

“I’m Jamie Bushby from Goings Publishing. We have a meeting today.”

The man cocked his head to the side, gave her a strange look, and eventually replied,

“Well, you’re not looking for me—maybe my son. He’ll be here in just a minute; he just ran into town.”

So, Jamie decided to wait, and after about 10 minutes, she got a phone call.

“This is Jamie,” she said.

“Hey, Jamie, it’s Phineas. I’m sorry I’m running late. The sandwich shop was backed up, but I’m on my way—and I got you a muffin for your wait.”

Jamie was shocked. “People are late all the time with me—this is new.” She was swept off her feet by that, and excited to meet him.

Jamie sat on the back of her car, facing the driveway, as a big white truck (an F-150), with mud covering the bottom half and dust on top, came rolling up the gravel—so fast, he created a dust storm. He parked next to her, jumped out, and bowed down, offering a muffin.

“Sorry I’m late. I believe the whole city was between the post office and the sandwich shop.”

She took the muffin, and he stood up straight.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Phineas.”

He reached out his hand, and that feeling came to her again—was this butterflies, she wondered. She reached out her hand and replied,

“Well, I think I have seen you around town. I was leaving the post office, heading here, as you were walking in. And I think I saw you at the crosswalk on my first day.”

He lifted his hand to his face, as if to think.

“On the crosswalk, huh?” he replied.

“Yeah, you passed me. I was on my morning walk, jamming out to '90s country. Then I got this weird feeling—and when I turned around, you were walking the opposite direction. What’s crazy is, I must’ve been in the zone, because I didn’t see you walk past me.”

He laughed and invited her in. As they walked to the side door, she looked around, questioning why they weren’t using the front door like everyone else. They entered a mud room; he took his boots off and assured her that she didn’t need to remove hers. He guided her through the mudroom into the kitchen, which was open concept—so the living room backed up into it. They sat at the table and started discussing the book, but he abruptly cut her off.

“Ma’am—Miss Bushby—Jamie... I can’t seem to focus on anything more than your beauty. Would you go out on a date with me?”

Jamie’s eyes went wide, and her cheeks flushed. She wanted to say yes, but was this professional? Was this fate? Her head and heart were pulling in different directions, but she opened her mouth and said,

“I would love that.”

“Okay, well, what about right now? I want to take you somewhere; I think you’ll like it.”

“Oh my gosh, this is happening so fast. I don’t know if I can trust this guy—we just met—but what if it’s meant to be? Be bold, be brave.”

“Okay, let’s go—but promise you won’t kill me or hurt me?”

He smiled and said,

“Not in the cards today, ma’am.”

“Ugh, don’t call me ma’am—I’m only 28. My name is Jamie, Jamie Lynn Bushby.”

“Yes, Miss Jamie,” he replied.