Chapter 53 Ready Or Not

• SEVYN
• Over the following weeks, I eased into the role of farmer’s wife quite easily. However, likening my husband to a farmer was like comparing oil and milk. He didn't even dress like one, plaid shirts, the hat, sexy frayed jeans, and boots, or going around the fields and orchards, checking on his men, while they talked about anything but crops and rainfall. Instead, he dressed like he was the ambassador for a top designer label. It didn't help that he was a neatness freak.
• Every morning, he’d go horse-riding with the boys, then they’d go for a swim in the lake, jog back to the house, and have breakfast that the chef who had been flown in cooked. They’d sit around the kitchen table and discuss anything but farming. To be honest, Italians weren’t big on breakfast. This bunch of sophisticates preferred sipping on an espresso while nibbling a cornetto or biscotti. On a good day, they’d have muesli and yogurt with a helping of the fresh fruit from the orchard.