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She doubted Matt would talk to Nic about his love life, but what did she know? “She and I became pretty good friends, working there together. She actually inspired me to start my own business. My friend Lucky—”
“Lucky Howard?”
Charity nodded. “They lived down the street from me, remember?” Nic didn’t respond, so she continued. “He runs the most successful construction company in town now. Super rich. You should see his house.”
The employee who’d taken her drink order was approaching. Charity saw him out of the corner of her eye. She stopped speaking, waiting until they each had a drink in front of them.
“Thanks, Blake,” Nic said just before the guy walked away.
Charity immediately felt guilty that she lived in this town and didn’t know the names of the guys who worked at the pizzeria. But she never came here.
What she really felt guilty about, though, was carrying on and on and on about Lucky Howard and his money. That had been a little tacky.
So, she took a deep breath and backtracked a little. “Anyway, Lucky had a client who needed help staging a house to sell it. He knew I was really good at picking out furnishings and suggested me. I started doing it on the side while I worked at the bank, and next thing you know, I had my own business.”
“Next thing you know.” Eyebrows arched, Nic tore the paper off his straw before sliding it into his drink. But he had that teasing glint in his eye that she’d missed so much. “I’m sure it took a lot more work than those four words indicate.”
Charity laughed. “You can say that again. But the Christmas season is my best time of year. I have a list of rental cabin owners who have me put their decorations up every December. I might even have to hire some help.”
“Sounds like a business of its own,” he said. “In fact, I’d love it if somebody would come and decorate my place for Christmas every year.”
“It’s seasonal, though,” she said. “No way can I live all year on what I make from Thanksgiving to just after New Year’s Day.”
“And the tree lighting ceremony and parade—you do all that for free?”
Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “I volunteered to do it when I was building my business. It’s a lot of work, but it’s also a great way to give back to the community. Good for networking, too.”
He smiled. “Not that everyone in town doesn’t know you already.”
“We get a lot of rental cabin owners who show up for things like the parade,” she said. “A few of them stay in their cabins for Thanksgiving weekend. They want to be part of the festivities, too. I’ve gotten some business from it over the years.”
“Interesting.”
It probably wasn’t, but he was humoring her. Eager to take the focus off herself, Charity said, “So, what is it you do now in…you said Lexington?”
“I’m the crop manager for one of the largest farms in Kentucky,” he said. “Yes, Lexington. I guess you could say I got a little closer to home than I was in college.”
Home. Funny that he still called Misty Mountain that. Did he realize it? She decided not to mention it.
“It makes visiting easier, I’m sure,” she said. “Do you stay busy when it turns cold like this?”
“There are plenty of winter crops,” he said. “Asparagus, spinach, onions… We supply a grocery store chain that’s semi-local, as well as quite a few local ones throughout Kentucky and Ohio. But I don’t want to bore you with business talk. How is it you’re not married with a bunch of kids running around by now?”
She nearly choked on the drink of water she’d just taken, although she should have been prepared for such a question. It hadn’t even occurred to her he might ask it, though. The problem was, she didn’t have a good answer.
“How many eligible men do you think live here in Misty Mountain?” she asked. “Well, not counting the people who hole up in the cabins in the mountains and don’t talk to any of us, even when they do come down.”
Nic made a face. “There are people who actually do that?”
Charity nodded. “I guess your parents didn’t tell you. We’ve attracted quite the digital nomad population.”
“Digital nomad.” He paused to roll the two words around in his head. “I assume that’s someone who works from wherever they want?”
“Yup. I hear that’s what’s going on up there. Not my type. I never did like the whole lumberjack beard thing.”
Now he seemed to be struggling to make his swig of liquid go down the right way. Once he regained his composure, he said, “You’re telling me the digital nomads have lumberjack beards.”
“No idea,” she said. “I would assume so, though, right? It’s all about sustainability. Living off the land. Keeping things simple while they tap, tap, tap away on their computer keyboards.”
