I look at the drawings, imagining it all. Is it too much? Probably.
“Let’s do that. What about this space?” I spot an area that’s clear of any dwellings.
“Gardens. Unless you want something else?”
“Can your landscaper put something in for me?”
“My landscaper can do anything.”
“Beehives.”
“Beehives?” Griffin looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have. Is it suicide? Death by stinger? Will my brother write that on my gravestone? Died by a stinger because he had a stupid crush on the diner girl.
I nod. “Just one or two.”
Griffin thinks for a moment. “What if we put a full vegetable patch, hives, fruit orchards, that kind of thing could work? We can build a little cottage shed. Somewhere you can store all the equipment. The bees could then utilize the garden to pollinate, and you’d get a nice garden honey, then.”
There’s that word “pollinate.” Nikki mentioned it the other day. Am I the only person who doesn’t know this shit?
“Yeah, bees are apparently important for gardens…” I say, thinking about it all.
“They are. I have a client out in Southern California who talks about them all the time. Apparently, they’re dying all too quickly, which isn’t a good thing.”
“Really? I had no idea.”
“Yeah, well, they have that Save the Bees charity now. Sounds all a bit peculiar, but it’s probably warranted.” Griffin moves around the block, but what he says piques my interest. A Save the Bees charity? I need to look that up.
“A cottage shed would actually be nice. We could match the building design to the guesthouse. Put some flowers around, make it a welcoming spot. You could have an open firepit, chairs, somewhere to sit in the evenings, away from the main house.”
“Do it.” I nod eagerly as I follow him around, and he chuckles. “What’s so funny?”
“I never really thought an action movie star would be into cottages and gardens, that’s all.”
“Can’t be fighting crime all the time.” Making movies, building my celebrity is all I’ve ever known. Outside of that, I have no hobbies. I’m not sure what else I’m good at or what else makes me tick.
“I used to love watching movies as a kid… Don’t really get the time for them anymore.”
“What do you do outside of work?” Maybe Griffin has a cool hobby I could try.
“Oh, I started working young. Had to make something of myself. I put my head down, and I haven’t pulled it back up since.” He’s so successful, and starting something from nothing takes time, commitment, focus.
“Surely, you do other things? Do you read? Do you hike?” I press, wanting to know more.
“Don’t really have the time…”
“Well, I’ve learned you need to make time, so feel free to jump on the bee bandwagon, you know, since we’re going to be neighbors and all.” I change the tone of the conversation, and he huffs a laugh.
“Right, like I need to be chased by bees. I gotta run. Call you with the updates. Frame will start going up tomorrow, and it’ll be quick from there on. My teams work around the clock, and they’re fast.”
“Thanks, Griff.” I shake his hand and watch him walk to his truck.
I wave goodbye, then walk around the plot slowly, wondering briefly if I’ve lost my damn mind. I think about LA; my house there is undeniably amazing, but there’s no yard. I'm up in the hills, but my view isn’t this incredible, and my neighbors are assholes. So is Sawyer, but at least I’m related to him.
The more I think about it, the more foreign LA feels and the more comfortable Whispers does. I don’t know why, but thinking about LA has my chest tightening. I feel stressed and don’t have a strong desire to go back. Not for good anyway. Here in Whispers, I kind of like the sanctuary of it. The gardens, the trees, nature.
But what does that all mean?
Maybe I can live here and fly in and out for filming. Lots of people do it. Hell, Sawyer still flies to New York often, and Connor and his girl Daisy fly to New York every month as well. Although if I move here more permanently, I know that’ll bring a lot of people to town. Tanner might like it. It’ll bring more business to the distillery and to the local shops. Journalists, fans, celebrity spotters will all come. It’s not a totally bad thing.
