Thick clouds of dust billowed behind the sleek black sedan as it sped along the small dirt road. Overhead, a single lazy cloud cast a huge shadow across the rolling green pastures on either side of the road. A huge line of wheeled metal structures sprayed crops with sinuous streams of water as a single green tractor pulled it further down the field.
"You know," the driver said to his passenger. "It's a little funny to say this but I've never really been in the country. Have you, miss?" The lady in the back seat made no answer so the man continued. "I mean, I honestly think that this is my first time seeing horses and things. In real life. I've probably seen them when I was a kid on some field trip but I can't remember. It's embarrassing to think of that. It's not that I-"
Lynn scowled at the stack of papers on her lap. Glancing up briefly, she spoke to the driver. "I'm trying to focus and you're distracting me. I'm not in the mood for idle chatter."
The driver's eyes flicked to his rear view mirror before returning to the road. Lynn shuffled her papers, refocusing over the rumbling noise of the car crunching over rocks and dirt. Sloping fields of green grass alternated with corn and other crops as the car passed farms that spread further and further apart the longer they drove.
"It's actually quite beautiful out-" the driver started.
"Listen," Lynn interrupted. "Stephen, wasn't it?"
"Shaun, actually, miss."
"Shaun. It would be fairly easy for me to have you fired. Not reassigned. Fired. I've asked you to be quiet and I expect you to listen. I wouldn't be coming out to this wasteland if it weren't important. Otherwise, my firm would send a junior partner to handle this. And they would drive themselves out here. I don't give a damn about the scenery and if I have to ask you again to be quiet, I won't even make a phone call. You'll simply drive me back when I'm finished and then go home. We won't expect you back. Now. Please don't speak until we're there."
Knuckles white on the wheel, the driver clenched his jaw and focused on the road ahead of him. The young woman returned to her files and the silence in the car grew oppressively.
The car turned and then suddenly vibrated fiercely as it drove over a wide cattle guard laid into the ground. Lynn looked up from her papers, blinking her eyes at the bright light filtering through the tinted car windows. Small wooden sheds, chicken wire fences and various pieces of machinery dotted the path leading to the old, sprawling main house.
With a voice devoid of emotion, the driver intoned, "We're here, miss."
"Thank god," Lynn said. "Wait in the car. If he's smart, I'll be finished in less than thirty minutes. If he's not, it'll take longer."
"Yes, miss," Shaun replied, eyes still straight ahead.
Lynn stepped from the car, knuckling at her back as she stretched from the long car ride. The air smelled of dust and manure and animals. Lynn wrinkled her nose from the various smells before making her way to the large house further down the path. Eyeing a few loose chickens that somehow weren't being murdered by a pair of roving cats, the young woman knocked on the front door.
A small cat, orange showing through a light covering of dust, investigated Lynn's black shoes. She shooed it away and it turned, tail proudly in the air as it strutted off. Another orange cat and a larger black one joined up with the first and they took turns to sniff at each other, curious about the newcomer.
The front door opened suddenly, forcing Lynn to take a quick step back. A man stood at the entrance, taller than her 5'2" slim frame. The man, older than her by a few years, stood barefoot in well-worn blue jeans and a stained white shirt. He had a square jaw with just the hint of a dent in a chin covered with stubble. His straight blond hair was caked with bits of dried mud and the man brushed a few strands away from deep green eyes. He glanced at her and then looked beyond to the car waiting behind her.
In the eaves above, a small, gentle light glowed to life. Awakened by the new arrival, it hovered and twirled before sinking into the wood of the house.
"Can I help you?" The man asked.
"Are you Mr. Chapman? Christopher Chapman?"
The man looked back at Lynn. She read caution and curiosity in his yes. "Yes, I'm Chris Chapman. What can I do for you?"
"I'm Lynn Hathaway from Spiel & Filhart & Hathaway? You spoke to my-"
"Your assistant. I told him-"
"Associate, actually." Lynn corrected.
Blinking, the man continued. "Associate. I told him I wasn't interested."
"Mr. Chapman, I've already spoken to your neighbors and they're willing to sell. If we had an agreement from you, P&G Chemicals would be able to build their-"
"I said I wasn't interested."
"The remuneration would be quite substantial, Mr. Chapman," Lynn pressed.
Christopher sighed. "Look, Ms. Hathaway, I was just in the middle of lunch. Why don't you come in for a second and we'll talk for a bit. And it's just 'Chris', not 'Mr. Chapman.' I keep looking for my dad when you say that, only he's not alive anymore. Come in. Can I get you some water or something else to drink?"
"I'll take a little water, please. Thank you." Lynn looked around the front room as she entered. Decades of living littered the entire room. Old photos, some color and some black and white lined shelves that were strewn with knick-knacks from other eras. Faded green reclining chairs and a matching couch faced a large fireplace.
Chris looked back at Lynn. "My father died a year ago. I haven't made the time to clean up or rearrange anything yet."
The odd clash of old and new continued in the kitchen. Speckled green Formica countertops were arranged around a shiny black induction stovetop. A large LG refrigerator hummed quietly in the corner, surrounded by blackened cast iron pots and pans. On the counter next to a simmering pot of soup lay a large, opened cookbook. The smell of onions permeated the kitchen.
Chris gestured to a small table surrounded by windows. "Have a seat. I'll grab some water."
