Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Clara sat in the car, pulling out her trusty antiseptic spray to clean the scrape on her knee. It was going to be a two-hour drive to North Ashford, and she couldn't afford to wait for the wound to heal.

Addison passed her a bottle of mineral water, sounding a bit sheepish. "Clara, don't let it get to you. When I'm back at the office, and I hear anyone bad- mouthing you, I'm on it like a rash."

Clara gave her knee a couple of spritzes, chuckling softly. "It's no big deal. People will talk, and that's just how it is."

Addison watched her calm demeanor for a moment before speaking again. "You know, a friend of mine works in your department. They aren't really your biggest fan, but you and Simon used to be close a few years back. Then, he went and got all into Quinn."

A few years back? That must have been before Quinn entered the Bradford family picture. Once Quinn arrived, everything flipped upside down.

"Clara, you and Simon got engaged. He didn't seem to have a problem with you back then. How did things get so messed up? Are you really not going to try and win him over again? People in your department have been saying you'd go through hell and back to make him change his mind."

Clara rubbed her temples, trying to recall if she and Simon were ever on good terms. Since the memory loss, everything was a blank slate, but seeing Simon and the Bradford family still brought a sting, so she must have cared a lot once. But now, they couldn't hurt her anymore.

Addison noticed her silence and quickly zipped it.

Two hours later, the car pulled up at the entrance to North Ashford. Despite the late hour, orchard workers were still bustling around, tending to the apple trees. Even some high school students on break were helping out by live streaming the sales.

Most of the orchard workers were over thirty and not exactly clued up on the whole live-streaming craze. Only a few young folks were giving it a shot. But these youngsters didn't really get how the post-sale stuff worked on the platform, leaving them open to being taken advantage of.

Clara spotted the tents set up and figured these folks had been at it for a while, yet the live stream was a ghost town. She headed over, and the students streaming eyed her suspiciously.

"You?"

Clara's stream had recently been spotlighted on the platform's main page, so pretty much everyone using the app knew her. Plus, North Ashford and South Ashford were like two sides of the same coin in the county, but their orchard farmers didn't see eye to eye.

When they saw an apple seller from South Ashford show up, they naturally thought Clara was there to rub it in their faces. They were young, so they didn't immediately grab brooms to shoo her away, but they weren't exactly rolling out the welcome mat either. "What are you doing here? Scram!"

It was getting dark, but the orchard lights illuminated the apples hanging on the trees. Last night's storm had hit hard, and in a few days, these apples would be on the ground and no longer be fresh.noveldrama

South Ashford had someone spearheading a farmer support project, but North Ashford, as usual, had zilch. Clara asked one of the students, "How many apples have you got piled up here?"

The student's face was red with anger as he shot up from his seat. "What's your deal?! Did you really drive two hours just to rub salt in the wound?! You South Ashford folks are the worst. We had a deal to make South Ashford apples famous first. Then we'd all sell together. But once you guys hit it big, you turned your backs on us and trashed us online."

Clara knew the two sides were at odds, but she hadn't realized just how deep it ran. Just as she was about to speak, orchard workers nearby noticed someone from South Ashford had shown up, and they rushed over, tools in hand.

Addison and the driver were understandably jumpy, shielding her. But when Clara saw a rake heading for Addison, she instinctively pulled her behind, taking the hit on her back, which made her wince in pain.

More people gathered, all fired up. "Get the South Ashford folks out of here! Our apples can rot before we accept your help!"

Someone shouted, but their voice cracked with emotion. The feud went back decades. South Ashford's apples had brought fame and fortune, so even though South Ashford targeted North Ashford, the powers that be turned a blind eye. Results were what counted, after all.

North Ashford had been stuck in this awkward spot and was even mocked online for trying to piggyback off South Ashford's success.

Clara, despite the pain showing on her face, stood her ground with a dignified posture. "I'm here to help you sell your apples. I'm aware of the bad blood between South Ashford and North Ashford, and I get how you feel. Just give me three days. If I haven't sold thirty thousand pounds of apples by then, you can do whatever you want."

Over the years, several companies had had their eyes on North Ashford's prime land, but South Ashford's reputation always overshadowed them. Those companies wanted to rebrand North Ashford apples as South Ashford's and exploit the orchard workers' hardships to gain sympathy.