The Diva Digs up the Dirt (6 page)

Okay, that part was true.

Troy cocked his head in the direction of my house. “Let’s look at this backyard of yours.”

Leon opened the gate and mouthed at me, “I didn’t know. I swear.”

We trooped to the backyard.

“Did Natasha also say I was a little old lady?” I asked Troy.

“Yeah, something like that.”

So that was why he thought Francie was me. The picture was becoming more clear. I eyed Natasha.
She had never said a word to me about my safety. There must be something in this for her.

Troy studied my garden. The irises and my beloved peonies had long given way to cheerful daisies, bright sunflowers, rich blue delphiniums, and black-eyed Susans.

He chewed on his lower lip. “Lots of flower beds. Good foundation plantings. Vegetable garden. Cute and practical garden shed, but you don’t have much in the way of outdoor living space. And you
do
need a garage, even if you’re not the little old lady I expected.”

I didn’t want to be rude, so I tried to weasel out of the situation as politely as possible. “I’m very sorry if Natasha misled you. We could probably help you find someone more deserving of a yard makeover.”

He nodded and made a little whistling sound. “What if we built you a fire pit?”

“I
have
a fire pit.” True, it was the kind you buy ready-made and plop on a terrace, but it served my purpose.

“Um hmm.” He cast an unappreciative eye at it. “Outdoor kitchen.”

I laughed. “I have to give you credit for trying. In a few hours it will be hot and humid. Who would want to spend time cooking out here unless it was on the grill? I don’t need an entire outdoor kitchen for that.”

Natasha nudged me. “Could I speak to you for just a moment?”

We walked a few feet away, and I braced myself.

“You’re embarrassing me. You’re supposed to be thrilled and excited. Nobody turns down a star like Troy!”

“I can’t help it if you misrepresented the situation. I happen to like my backyard, and I’m not interested in having Troy and his troops dig it up with a bulldozer.” I eyed her with suspicion.

She winked at Troy. Was she
flirting
? Had she finally given up all hope that Mars would marry her?

“Look, Sophie. You need a garage. You know you do. I cannot imagine why you would turn down a garage. It’s a big yard. You have”—her lips bunched up like it pained her to say it—“this big double lot. The garage will only take up a little corner. And think how wonderful it will be not to have to carry groceries from your car in the rain.”

She had a point. I hated to admit that, though. And I still didn’t want my yard torn up.

Troy ambled over. “Excuse us, Natasha.” He motioned to me, and we strolled toward my potting shed.

“What if I said I could give you a garage and a fabulous outdoor living space you would love—without ripping out your flower beds. The only thing you would lose is that left back corner, which is mostly bushes anyway. Whadda ya’ say?”

It was tempting. I felt guilty, though. Someone else probably needed a garage much more than me.

A truck thundered along the alley that ran behind my fence.

I looked up at Troy. “It’s too late to change your plans, isn’t it? I’m on the schedule, and everyone is already here, ready to work.”

He grinned at me. A genuine grin, not the dazzling smile he used before. “Pretty much. They count on me talking people into it.”

He was good at his job. “Has anyone ever turned you down?”

“Not yet. C’mon, you’re getting a new garage!”

I didn’t trust him. I wanted to, but I had seen the show, and I had a very bad feeling that his backhoe would run right over me if I tried to protect my beautiful plants.

Nina poked me from behind and whispered, “Are you nuts? You’re the only person in the whole world who would turn this down. No nightmares with contractors who don’t show for work and no having to find people to finish or fix what someone else started.”

“What if I don’t like what they do? What if they build something that looks like a gleaming steel tin can?”

Troy held up his palms. “I have the design guidelines for Old Town. They’re fairly specific for these historic blocks. It will be a good change for us. We like to vary the shows, and I see this garage and backyard looking like they’ve been here as long as the house.” He clapped my back. “Have a little faith in me.”

I relented. After all, how bad could it be? Nina was right, at the very least I would get a garage out of it. “All right.”

“Roll cameras!” shouted Natasha.

Troy quickly covered up his surprise at her audacity. Even if she had her own local show, it wasn’t her business to direct Troy’s show. I had a hunch we were in for some entertaining clashes.

After I signed a stack of papers we shot an opening for the show in which I pretended to be both surprised and delighted. I hoped I would be.

Troy asked Natasha to supervise the unloading of the bulldozer. As soon as she was out of earshot, he rolled his eyes. “Is she always like that?”

I had to laugh. “Oh, yeah.”

He lowered his head as though thinking. “Okay. I need to come up with little tasks to keep her out of the way. Good to know.”

The engine in the back stopped running. In the abrupt quiet, the sound of my gate slamming open had all the impact of a gun being fired. A man barged through and loped determinedly toward Troy. Natasha followed behind him, her heels slowing her progress as they caught in the grass and soil.

Although his face was stormy with anger, he was almost as good looking as Troy. Sandy hair fell into his forehead. When he pushed it back, he revealed green eyes that matched the color of his T-shirt and pants.

Nina yanked on my arm, her eyes wide.

I knew why Nina was surprised.

There was no doubt about it—this guy had been one of the party watchers in the woods at Roscoe’s house.

Troy gestured toward him. “Ladies, this is Heath Blankenship, my number two man. If you need something and I’m not around, you just ask Heath.”

Heath brightened up. “I aim to please. Which one of you is Sophie?”

I wiggled my fingers at him.

He acknowledged me by bobbing his head. “Pleased to meet ya.”

Natasha finally caught up to him, her nostrils flaring with fury. She pushed her hair out of her face and glared at Heath. “Excuse me. Troy put
me
in charge of unloading the bulldozer.”

Heath’s long dimples disappeared when he turned an amused gaze on Natasha. “No problem, darlin’. You go right ahead and put the backhoe wherever you want.”

Natasha sputtered. I couldn’t recall having seen her speechless.

Watching Troy and Heath side by side was an interesting study in contrasts. Heath didn’t have Troy’s polish, nor, apparently, his deft touch for dealing with the public. Heath didn’t sport an expensive haircut. In fact, he seemed a little bit scruffy. His face bore weathered creases surely brought on by too much time outdoors in the sun. Yet I had no doubt that his rugged I-just-chopped-the-wood appearance brought women to him like puppies chasing bacon.

Troy slung an arm around Natasha’s shoulder. “You have to help me with Heath. He can get a little bit testy, but he’s a good guy.” He walked her away from us and continued talking.

Heath looked heavenward, as though he’d seen Troy do this song and dance before. He flashed those dimples at us—“There’s one at every shoot”—and headed in the direction of the backhoe.

Wolf strode into my backyard as Troy was steering Natasha toward the street. I suspected Troy used the dazzling smile on him. They nodded at each other.

“What’s going on?” asked Wolf. “Should I be jealous?”

Nina snorted. “Any man would be a fool not to be worried about Troy. It’s like having a Roman god walk into
your life. And that other guy has a certain untamed charm. I bet he’s the bad boy of the group.”

Wolf pretended to be appalled. “I can’t leave you alone for a second.”

I wrapped an arm around his waist and laughed. “Only in our dreams. Troy must have loads of women running after him.” Wolf might not be as young, slender, or drop-dead gorgeous as Troy, but he was a good guy, which was far more important to me.

“Is he the fellow who rips up people’s yards?”

I wished he hadn’t put it quite that way. “I’m afraid so.”

He pointed at the climbing rose near the table where Nina and I had talked with Mona in the morning. “Just be sure they don’t tear that one out.”

“It should be safe. They’re going to work on the other side of the yard.”

“I stopped by to beg off dinner tomorrow. Meet me for lunch at The Laughing Hound instead?”

“Sorry, I have a meeting. How about dinner tonight at my house?”

“I thought you were taking some time off.”

“I am, but Roscoe Greene wants to see me tomorrow.”

Wolf’s face grew stony. “What does Roscoe want now?”

I continued in our jolly vein. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of him, too?”

“Stay away from him.” Wolf wasn’t joking.

“Don’t be silly. He just got married. I’m sure he wants to talk about another event.”

“Then turn him down.”

Just past Wolf, I could see Nina, her expression showing the bewilderment I felt. “I gather you have some kind of issue with Roscoe?”

His hands balled into fists. “Isn’t it enough that I ask you not to get involved with the man?”

I thought about it and took a step back. “No, it’s not enough. If you expect me to refuse to do business with someone, I want to know why. What’s wrong with Roscoe?”

Wolf turned so red I was afraid he might have a coronary on the spot. Instead, he turned and walked toward the street. I watched as he disappeared along the side of my house, but I had no desire to run after him.

“That was weird,” said Nina.

We returned to my kitchen, and I put on a pot of coffee. “Wolf never acts like that. Do you know any gossip about Roscoe?” Nina knew everything. If there were stories about Roscoe or his family, she would have heard.

“Nothing other than the new wife. I gather Olive was extremely put out about the divorce and Roscoe’s relationship with Mindy.”

“Surely that wouldn’t bother Wolf.”

Angry voices outside drew us to the kitchen door. Daisy, Nina, and I crept toward the backyard.

Someone shouted over the sound of the engine, and Natasha staggered through the gate in a panic. A backhoe crashed through my fence, knocking down a substantial portion of it. I grabbed Daisy’s collar to keep her out of harm’s way.

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” said Nina.

“That’s not nice. They just destroyed my fence!”

“Yeah, but look who he’s after.”

Natasha stumbled toward us, a bit disheveled in her effort to dodge the big machine.

Heath drove the backhoe, his grin revealing too much joy in scaring Natasha and ruining my fence.

I retreated to my kitchen, already ruing my decision. I was pouring coffee for Nina when Natasha barged in.

“Did you see that? The nerve of that man! He’s a menace!” Natasha patted her hair in place with trembling hands. “I don’t know what they’re so upset about. Honestly, I think men are intimidated by me.”

She paused at the kitchen sink, gathering her composure. When she turned around, the old, confident Natasha was back as though nothing had happened. “Sophie, you’re not allowed to see your backyard unless they ask you.”
She opened my cabinets and pawed through dishes, selecting some. “I’m supposed to keep you from looking. We’re going to do all kinds of projects.”

So much for a relaxing week off.
Apparently, she had never watched Troy’s show. The owners were periodically taped showing their dismay over the wreck in their yards. “What are you doing with my dishes? Are you feeding the guys?”

“We should do that! How thoughtful of you to make coffee for them. The plates are for our first project. Your terra-cotta pots are so drab. We’re going to dress them up by breaking plates and adorning them with the pieces. Some of these are very colorful.”

I whisked my dishes away from her. “Not with these plates, you’re not! Besides, you’re in luck this morning, Natasha. I have plans, so you can help Troy instead of watching me.”

“That’s sweet of you. I’d much rather be outside helping Troy. Maybe we can dress up your pots another day?”

My job for the next week became clear. Troy would invent tasks for Natasha, and I had to invent reasons to send her back outside to him.

Ordinarily, I would have whipped up breakfast, but I had no desire to linger out of fear that Troy would turn the tables on me again. I popped yogurt, blueberries, and bananas into a tall jar and used my immersion blender to puree it into summery fruit smoothies. I poured one for each of us, making sure Natasha stayed in the house for a bit so that Troy wouldn’t realize what I had done to him too soon.

I whispered to Nina to keep Natasha busy, took the stairs two at a time, and changed into gardening clothes—khaki skorts, a sleeveless pink top, leather deck shoes, and a straw hat—as fast as I could.

Tiptoeing, I dared to sneak into a back bedroom and peek out the window. I slapped a hand over my mouth to stifle a shriek. My entire back fence had been knocked down. Ugly bulldozer tracks churned up the lush green grass. My potting shed had been lifted from its base and now rested at an odd tilt far too close to my house.

It took all the strength I had to resist the temptation to run outside and stop them from any further destruction. I had made my bed, and now I would have to deal with whatever nightmare they created in my lovely, peaceful backyard. I was about to leave when I spotted an onlooker in the alley.

Mona peered into my yard. Her hair as perfect as the day before, she wore a short-sleeved yellow dress, but she had wised up and worn white running shoes.
The better to follow me with, eh? Not if I could help it.