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much time.”
    “The whole farm’s got more acreage than it looks,” Jamie said, biting her lower lip.  “So we definitely can’t do that on our schedule.”  Sam walked over to the golf cart, sitting himself down in the driver’s seat.  He looked over at Jamie, flashing his eyebrows.
    “Well, Rye seems to pretty familiar with the farm so maybe it should just be you and me?” Sam said with a smile.
    “Kind of early to be edging me out already,” Rye said.  “In case you’ve forgotten, it’s still my name on the restaurant – not yours.”
    “I’m just trying to find a solution,” Sam said.  Jamie laughed, taking Rye’s hand and leading her to the passenger side of the golf cart.  She patted the seat, indicating she wanted Rye to sit.
    “Or…” Jamie said, coming back around to the driver’s seat.  She leaned forward, putting her arms around Sam’s neck as she slid onto his lap.  “We can share the driver’s seat, if you don’t mind.”  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Rye’s shock over the sudden escalation.  Sam couldn’t blame her.  Though he was used to women literally crawling into his lap, he was surprised by how quickly Jamie had made that move – especially completely sober.
    He steered the cart with his right hand as he rested his left one on Jamie’s tiny waist.  She directed him through the strawberry fields and towards the root vegetables where wooden barrels were filled to the brim with colorful beets and stalks of rhubarb.  The cart managed to pick up just enough speed to catch a cooling breeze, making the sun not just bearable but pleasurable.  In that moment, he could see how someone would opt to live this life when Manhattan was so nearby.  He was overwhelmed by all the sensations – the changing and fragrant scents of the fresh fruits and vegetables from field to field, the vivid images of dishes he could make popping up in his head, the beautiful girl that was sitting in his lap and stroking the back of his neck.
    It was all enough to completely forget the bundle of anger that sat beside him.  Sam stole a quick glance at Rye who had turned almost completely away from the two of them.  He laughed, almost feeling bad for making her uncomfortable when he was enjoying himself as much as he was.
    “So as you can see,” Jamie began.  “We have just about every fruit and vegetable you’d expect to see in season.”  She reached out toward a vine of hanging grapes, plucking a bunch off and tapping Rye on the shoulder.
    “Oh,” Rye said, turning towards her and accepting the offer.  She looked relieved to be included in the tour once again.  “Thanks.”  Jamie dropped the pearly purple grapes into Rye’s open palm before turning back to Sam and putting a grape to lips.  Sam watched as Rye promptly furrowed her brows in disgust.
    He laughed, leaning his head away and reaching up to take the grape from Jamie’s fingers.
    “ Thank you,” Sam said, popping the grapes into his mouth on his own.  Thankfully, Jamie didn’t look too insulted.
    “You’ve really got the sales pitch thing down, don’t you Jamie?” Rye said, smirking.  She seemed to have gotten past her disgust and discomfort and had jumped right back into the mouthy little brat she was so content to be.  Sam rolled his eyes.  That’s what you get for being nice.
    “This isn’t a sales pitch, silly,” Jamie laughed.  “We’ve had a contract with you guys for two decades, we’re not worried about having your business.  This was just a nice little welcome for the new guy in town.”  She turned to look at Sam, her blue eyes glittering as she looked at him in a way that was arguably unprofessional.  Sam laughed with her.  Despite how commonplace it had become, he was always surprised by how easy it was for him when it came to women.  But even he was beginning to grow uncomfortable with the flirtation, strangely conscious of the impression he was making on Rye.  Though