“Hey, London,” he greets me icily. I probably deserve that.
“Thanks. I think Sal ordered the food for us?”
“He did. I’ll bring it out in a bit,” Beau says curtly as he walks away. With the way he greeted me, I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t spit in it.
“I don’t drink beer,” Hannah tells me, wrinkling her nose in what seems to be disgust.
“Oh?” Not another one.
“Too many calories,” she admits with a shrug.
“You know,” I drum my fingers against the table, “if you were with me, you would need those extra calories. I get up early in the morning and muck stalls, mend fences, see to the cows. I eat a lot, because working a farm is hard work.”
“But you haven’t been doing that in a couple of days,” Jacob points out.
My elbow on the wooden surface, I prop my chin on my fist. “I have, even though you haven’t seen me do it. I get up at five in the morning.”
Hannah leans across the table, trying to whisper covertly. “We heard you had a fight with your friend.”
Straightening my posture, I clasp my hands together, resting them on the wood, and piercing them with a no-nonsense stare. “Friends fight, correct?”
They nod.
“Do you think you could help feed chickens and muck stalls?” I ask them.
“I don’t know.” Hannah glances at her fingers, twisting them together.
“Then why come on the show? I said from day one what I do every day. I’ve mentioned it since then. If you can’t do that, why be on the show?”
“Um . . .” She hesitates, her eyes searching my face for what I assume she “thinks” I want to hear.
“Let me guess? Money,” I speculate, tilting my head, and from neck to hairline, her skin starts to turn red and blotchy.
She shifts in her seat but remains silent.
“You heard about the show, not knowing who the bachelor was. Once you did, you searched for my name. Saw I was worth millions, so you wanted to jump on that. And it is true: I am worth millions, but I still work. Being with me means getting up early with me, collecting eggs, feeding the cows and horses. Checking on Harvey. There is no free ride,” I finish with a smirk.
“I . . .” Hannah’s face changes from red to deep crimson. She can’t seem to find the right words. I don’t want to hear what she has to say, anyway.
Without another glance, I wave her off. “You’re dismissed.”
“Dick,” she mutters, standing from her seat, slamming her hand on the table, and storming out of the bar.
“Jacob, need a refill?”
“Sure.” He grins as we continue the date.
Turns out, he’s a funny guy, and I needed a good laugh.