Something About You

Kyla took a deep breath and forced her eyes to stay on the path, and not on Miles. “Well, when I’m not working on my dissertation, I help with marketing and running the farm’s office. I’ve helped arrange monthly specials, like Friday night potlucks, and the B and B celebrates just about everything. I handle most of the social media, also.”

“Potlucks? At a B and B?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Sure. The Coleman House is not your typical B and B. During potlucks, people bring food from neighboring farms. It’s a real community event. Everyone gets involved. It’s fun and organic.”

Miles laughed. “That much I gathered.”

Once they reached the barn behind the house, Kyla pointed to the inside back corner where Rollin had installed a small vanity made of repurposed material.

Miles washed his hands. “I like this setup back here. It’s nice. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a sink in a barn before.”

“Rollin’s wife had him put it in. I think they used to spend a lot of time out here. Before the farm expanded, there was only the house and this barn. The sink he crafted from an old metal bucket. The handle of the bucket was drilled into the wall with a hand towel hanging from it. I don’t know where the old mirror came from above the sink.”

He dried his hands on the towel before joining her. “You sound like a busy woman. When do you find time to work on your PhD? Which is pretty impressive by itself, I might add.”

Kyla stifled a grin. “Thank you. My studies and the program have taken over my life. When I’m not working, I’m studying. But I’m not complaining. I believe this is what I was put on this earth to do.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman who knew so much about minerals, organic matter and how soil filters water to keep it clean.”

Kyla smiled. “You were listening?”

“To your every word.” Miles tilted his head and smiled at Kyla.

Damn, there’s that smile of his again! She blushed while her stomach did a series of backflips. She was used to guests being intrigued by her work, but this level of interest from a celebrity she was not used to, nor her response to his attention. And he kept staring at her, which made her even more self-conscious and puzzled.

“Well, I hope you learned something that will benefit your company.” She led the way out of the barn.

“I learned that Professor Abraham was right. You know a lot about organic farming, and you’re a great teacher. I like your style.”

“Thank you again. You’re dishing out so many compliments, I’m not sure my head is going to fit under the gazebo when I get back.”

Before he could respond, his cell phone rang.

“Excuse me. I need to take this.”

She nodded. “Sure.”

“Hey, Glenda,” Miles said as he stepped away.

Unexpectedly, Kyla wondered if Glenda was his girlfriend. From what she remembered, he dated starlets from California to New York, nothing but high-profile models and A-list actresses, of course. She continued to walk down the path and back to the group.

Most of the people had left, but a few had hung back, waiting to speak to her. She answered some questions before Miles returned. His brother and friend waited for him outside the gazebo.

“Ms. Coleman, I’d like to thank you for an enlightening morning. I’m afraid we have to leave, but the experience is one I won’t soon forget.”

She could tell he’d enjoyed himself by the huge smile on his face. “Hopefully you have a new appreciation for organics now.”

Miles chuckled. “Let’s say I have a better understanding of the work involved, and I see why you’re so passionate about it. I understand the health benefits, but it seems like a mighty slow way to feed large groups of people.”

“Organic food can feed the masses. If we had more time, I’d tell you how.”

“Another time, then.” Miles held out his hand. “Tell your family I said thank you for breakfast and the hospitality.”

She accepted his hand. “I will.” She looked down at his dirt-and soil-spotted T-shirt. “Next time we’ll have large enough gloves or an apron for you to wear.”

He smiled and brushed at his soiled shirt.

“Drive safely.” Kyla said goodbye and rejoined the group of guests, while Miles and his crew walked up the path to the parking lot. She tried her best not to watch him walk away. Her brush with celebrity had been brief, but entertaining. Yet she still didn’t see what all the fuss was about. He hadn’t struck her as any different from any of the other country boys running around the area. Maybe he was more handsome and charming, and had perfect teeth, which usually scored high in her book, but those weren’t things to get your panties in a bunch about.

Ben walked up next to her. “Are they leaving?”

“Yep,” she said, half relieved, and half saddened, for some strange reason.

“Man, I didn’t get his autograph or anything. I wanted a picture.”

“Ben, he’s just a man. Tracee took pictures with her phone. Ask her to send you one.”

“Okay, but I wanted a selfie with him.” He walked off mumbling, “Man, Miles Parker was here and I didn’t even get a picture.”

Shaking her head, Kyla turned around to clean up her working area, but couldn’t resist the urge to glance up the hill to the parking lot. A large black SUV drove slowly down the long driveway to the main road. She smiled to herself. “Goodbye, Mr. Parker. Maybe we’ll meet again sometime.”

* * *

Exactly a week later, just as the buzz of having a celebrity in the house had all but died down, Kyla walked into the dining room and found a framed photograph of Miles and Rita, smiling from ear to ear. The picture hung above the buffet table.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Tracee asked as she strolled in behind Kyla, pushing a dust mop across the hardwood floors.

Kyla crossed her arms. “Huh, the only thing missing is his scribbled autograph across the bottom.”

“Yeah, about that. Do you think you’ll see him again?” Tracee asked.

Kyla unfolded her arms. “I should think not! It’s not like he’s one of my buddies or anything. If I ever see that man again, it’ll probably be on television coming out of some swanky night club in LA or escorting some starlet on some award show’s red carpet.”

“Well, the more popular he gets, the better for us.”

“And how do you figure that?”

“Because you’re going to take one of those pictures I took and put it on our website and Facebook. You can say, ‘A typical guest at The Coleman House B and B.’”

Kyla’s head jerked back. “Aunt Rita is not going to let us post her picture all over the internet. Besides, don’t you have to ask his permission to do something like that?”

“If you knew how to get in touch with him, you could ask.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Nice picture, isn’t it?” Tayler asked, as she stopped at the entrance to the dining room with a hamper full of sheets.

Kyla looked up at the picture again. “You really think so?”