Page 112 of Pick Me This Time

53

STERLING

“Iheard you were in New York now,” Cameron Adams said as he and I ended up next to one another at the bar. “How’s it going there? I was surprised when someone told me you didn’t go pro. Did you seriously go to business school instead, you big nerd?”

I shrugged and flashed him an easygoing smile. Cameron had been part of our larger circle of friends in high school. He and I had never been super close, but we’d played ball together and he was a decent guy. It just so happened he’d also been one of the people who had only ever gotten to know the front I’d put up—and that was all I was willing to show him now, too.

I wasn’t here to reestablish deep connections with anyone. I had already done that with Daphne and it was tearing my soul apart.

“Yeah, man. Stanford. As soon as I got accepted, that was it for me and football. It was great and I loved it. Still do, but it was going to take too long to start paying the kind of bills I wanted to be racking up.”

He laughed. “Let me guess. A penthouse with a view and a couple fancy cars?”

I dropped my chin in a nod and smirked. “Wall Street got me there faster and without so much risk of a career-ending injury.”

“I never knew you to be afraid of taking risks.”

“I’m in finance,” I said, shrugging. “Every move I make is a risk. And this way, my knees still work.”

He laughed and nodded. “I hear that. Every time it rains, my wrist still throbs like a bastard.”

Bryan, another of our old teammates, joined our conversation with his wife. “Are you still talking about that wrist injury?” he asked with a smile. “You’ve been milking that story for years.”

Cameron laughed. “Oh, whatever. Did you ever get that hernia fixed, Three-Balled Bryan?”

His wife, Lana, widened her eyes and looked at her husband. “Have I missed something all these years?”

Bryan groaned. “No, honey, it wasn’t a third testicle. It was just my guts poking out. But I got it fixed before we met.” He turned to look at Sterling. “Hey, North. The farm is looking pretty good these days. Lana and I took our kids out there during the festival. It’s a hell of improvement from the way things were looking last year.”

“Thanks, Three-Ball,” I said, smacking my palm into his when he offered me his hand to shake.

He rolled his eyes and chuckled. “I didn’t miss you pricks at all.”

I gave his wife a smile. “Good to you see you, too, Lana. You keeping this joker in line?”

She smiled. “Hello, Sterling. Thanks for opening up the farm for the festival. Our boys love it every year, even if Bryan wasn’t so eloquent about it.”

I laughed. “It’s no problem. I know it’s been getting a bit rundown, but we’re fixing all that. It’s going to look even better by next year.”

“We’re looking forward to it,” Bryan said. “Are there still fish in the pond? The boys have been nagging at me to find out.”

“Not at the moment, but that’s a damn good idea, actually.”

Restocking the pond and opening it up to local kids as a fishing opportunity would be a good way to draw people in during the spring and summer.

“Do you know if your dad is thinking about converting one of the barns into an events venue?” Cameron asked. “My girlfriend is on my ass about a ring, and she wants to get married on a farm. She’s been going to the festival since she was a baby and now she’s got it in her head that she’d love to get married on your farm.”

“It’s an idea I’ve thought about,” I admitted, suddenly realizing that while everyone I’d spoken to tonight had asked about New York and what I did there, most people were more interested in the farm.

Their feelings about it so far seemed mixed. A few had mentioned how bad it’d been looking these last few years while others were only interested in our plans for it going forward.

I’d only been here for about thirty minutes, but I’d already added a bunch of new ideas to my mental list. The more I was talking to others about it, the more I saw an opportunity to turn it into something new and up with the times.

“Our boys have also asked if you have a campground,” Lana said, her voice as soft and shy as always. “Do you think that might be something that’s on the cards for next year? The entire baseball team wants to camp out there for a night or two. Someone told them there are some pretty nice hikes on the property and lots of space for them to practice.”

“I’ll bring it up with my dad,” I said. “It’s a good idea. Campouts are fun and the farm is close enough to town that it should be easy for the kids to get there.”

“What about the bakery?” another voice asked from behind me and I twisted to see Sheryl, a girl who had obviously been in our year but I’d never spoken to before.