Looking forward to hearing what your firm might be able to do for us,
Councilman Chad Bowman
Chad Bowman. Chad Bowman. Why did that name sound familiar? On impulse I called Roxie.
“Do you know a Chad Bowman?” I asked when she chirped a hello.
“Are you talking about The Chad Bowman?” she asked.
I frowned and reread the email. “I’m talking about Councilman Chad Bowman; is that the same thing?”
“Ha! Councilman! Shit, that’s right, I never heard him referred to that way, all fancy and everything. But yes, I am familiar. He was my all-time favorite high school crush, I mean, of all fucking time. Wait, why are you asking me about him?” she asked.
“He wrote to us here at the firm about drumming up business in your wee village.”
“Oh, that’s fantastic! He’d be the guy to do it, too; he’s on this kick to make Bailey Falls the next hot spot. He’s got this idea that—” She stopped cold. “Wait. Wait a damn minute. Your firm is working on this?”
“Yep.”
“Are you working on this?”
“Yep.”
“So you’re coming to the sticks?”
“Yep. Got a guest room?”
She shrieked so loud my ears were ringing for the rest of the day.
Chapter 4
That week was spent researching, making calls, and packing. I had Liz already started on working with the people over at T&T Sanitation, revising the budgets and beginning the early stages of that campaign. This wasn’t the first time I’d juggled multiple campaigns, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.
I talked endlessly with Roxie that week, making plans for my trip and deciding exactly how many high jinks we’d have time for in addition to both of us keeping our jobs.
“We can go apple picking, and hiking, and white-water rafting, and sailing on the Hudson. And then on Saturday—”
“Natalie! Slow it down, how much time do you think there is in a day?”
“If I’m coming to the sticks, then I’m coming to the sticks. Nature me up, sister,” I said into the phone one night.
“We couldn’t do that much if you were here for an entire week, much less a weekend when you’re technically working. And so am I.”
“We don’t have to do it all, but we can at least go apple picking, right?”
“I have an arrangement with the bees that live in the orchard. I agreed not to go into the orchard.” She gave a horrid little shudder that I could imagine even over the phone.
“And what did the bees agree to?” I asked when she didn’t finish the statement.
“They also agreed that I was not to go into the orchard.”
“Oh boy.”
“But Leo will be happy to take you; there’s always an orchard tour on the weekends this time of year.” Her voice dipped down low and secretive. “Or I can ask someone else to take you apple picking . . .”
“Stop it; I’ll combust if I think about being in the woods with that man! I’d likely climb him instead of the tree!”
“You’ll have to talk to him if you go into the woods, though,” she reminded me. “Don’t you think we better get you talking first?”
“Talk schmalk, I’m hoping his mouth is otherwise occupied,” I said with a sigh, and could hear her eyes rolling all the way from upstate.
Since Roxie was essentially going to be my tour guide for everything I was officially working on this weekend, I’d finally told Dan that my best friend lived in Bailey Falls, which kept him from looking for any other reason why I was heading up north on the Hudson River Line.
Once I’d made the decision to take on this project, I couldn’t get Oscar off my mind. I thought about him while I was making my coffee in the morning and adding a splash of cream. I thought about him at lunch when I was taking my nosh outside and eating his Brie in the park across from the office. And at night . . . my brain was full of thoughts of a decidedly different nature.
But I was also being a responsible adult about all this. I already had lots of ideas for boosting the tourism in that little town, starting with Roxie’s boyfriend. Leo Maxwell ran one of the Northeast’s most innovative organic farms, with teams of apprentices coming from around the country to work and learn. Based on what I’d gleaned from Roxie and the Internet, it could be a wonderful draw for people who were very much into their home gardens and being as sustainable as possible. Sustainable. Local. Homegrown. All current buzzwords that generated Internet clicks and tourism dollars that could potentially be spent in Bailey Falls.
It also didn’t hurt that Leo came from a very well-known and wealthy New York family, and looked like a Greek god from the island of Hipsteropia. Was I planning to exploit his natural good looks?
Hey, if his farm was featured in a possible future magazine spread encouraging Connecticut housewives to bring their family to the wholesome town of Bailey Falls for a weekend visit, and his smiling face was dead center? It couldn’t hurt.
I never turned over a stone that didn’t want to be flipped over, but if I thought it might give, I always started pushing. The stone usually let me know.
I also packed. As a rule, I didn’t leave Manhattan for any reason unless I was going somewhere fabulous. I’m sure Bailey Falls was charming and all, but it was definitely different from my normal business trip to somewhere with tall buildings and round-the-clock deliveries. How did I pack for the country?
I headed to REI. I explained to an oddly confused saleswoman that I was headed into the wilderness and needed to make sure I had the necessities. I was going on an adventure, and didn’t want to be caught without something that might come in handy and save my life. She led me to the survival gear, which I was surprised to realize didn’t include anything cashmere. Purification tablets, sure, but no cardigans?
I always found great sweaters at Barneys, so I’d head there next, but before leaving REI I did manage to procure a great pair of subzero hiking pants, a puppy tent with an optional starry-night ceiling, and several packages of something called gorp.
I also visited the salon for my regularly scheduled waxing (everywhere, thank you) and picked up a few last-minute glam packs to make sure that even in the sticks, I was highlighted, primed, and perfectly dewy. Should the need arise.
I was in the office Thursday morning finishing up some last-minute details when Dan stopped by to check in one last time.