Anything I Can Do: A Sweet Grumpy Sunshine Small Town RomCom (The Anything Series Book 2), page 1
Anything I Can Do
A Sweet Romantic Comedy
Mary Carson
Inconceivable Press
Copyright © 2023 by Mary Carson All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and certain locales such as Merit, NC and Henryville Township, NC are products of the author’s imagination. All other landmarks are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced within this fictional work, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Cover Design by Sarah Kil Creative Studio
Edited by Melissa Pearl Guyan www.foreverlovepublishing.com
Proofreading by Karen Marie
Sensitivity Read by Veena S
To Cindy BW
I couldn't be happier to have you on this writing rollercoaster with me.
And it's no Kathleen Woodiwiss, but I think you'll still like it.
(now, if only I were as funny as you…)
To My Dad, in Honor of Henryville Township, MN
Because you finished the book, looked up at me, and said, "Ingenious. The ending is ingenious."
And what daughter out there isn't just waiting to hear such a thing from her dad?
To My Mom, the original Rose
Who's an even better mom and cook than Quinn's mom.
P.S. Your prune kolaches make another appearance!
And to Mr. Carson
The inspiration for every swoony farmer/cowboy.
Contents
Keep In Touch
Note From The Author
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
A Sneek Peak
Also By Mary Carson
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Keep In Touch
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Note From The Author
Dear Reader,
Though this book is sweet, funny, and heartwarming, there are some sensitive subjects involved. There is discussion of the death of a parent and the death of friends through a car accident.
I'd like to extend a special thank you to Veena S for serving as my sensitivity reader to ensure that Jasmine and her family have been represented with care and accuracy. Any misrepresentation is entirely my own.
Happy reading,
-Mary
Chapter 1
- Jasmine
I loved a good party. I loved the energy, the excitement, all of the different people—even when it was kind of against my free will—like tonight—I still loved a party.
A server walked by, and I snagged a glass of champagne. My best friend, Ellie—or Dr. Dumont, as she was known around here—and her boyfriend, James (soon-to-be-fiance, shh, don’t tell anyone) were across the room. They were talking to Chef Mike, whom I had met on several occasions at his restaurants around town, and I was itching to join their conversation. Instead, I was being the dutiful daughter, mixing and mingling, meeting new people, and making sure they knew about my family’s business and how to be a part of it.
We were at the Sponsors Pre-party Cocktail Hour for the annual Merit Memorial Hospital Charity Ball. As the title suggested, everyone here had sponsored tonight’s event, so they were at least in some way used to giving their money away. I was here to convince them to give it to me. Or more accurately, give it to my family’s medical research business, Chandran Medical.
I didn’t work for my family, I actually worked as the Nurse Manager for Labor and Delivery at Merit Memorial. In the past, I’d attended this function as a member of the hospital staff, but this year I was here to work. It wasn’t often that I got to do something that actually made my family…well, not proud of me, exactly, but maybe…pleased with me?
“Right now,” I said, “they’re working on ways to limit the damage caused by a stroke.” I was speaking with Denise Wilson, the owner of several yoga studios in the area.
“Strokes just come out of nowhere and are devastating. It’s amazing that you do that kind of work.”
I bit back my involuntary wince. I didn’t do that work—my family did. And if it was up to them, I’d be doing it, too. I remembered a time when my parents would fondly say I marched to the beat of my own drum. But as I grew older, that independence started to look like rebellion to them. Case in point—not working for the family business. My siblings both worked for Chandran Medical, so why couldn’t I? Why couldn’t I just be like them?
I knew the concept of “family and hard work” was important to a lot of people, and I was here to tell you it was alive and well in my Indian American family. At least I had the hard work part down, right?
I took a quick swallow of my drink and refocused on Denise. “I hope that doesn’t mean you’ve experienced it first hand?”
“No, thank goodness,” she said. “But it worries me, especially since my parents are getting older. Stroke, heart attack. You don’t know what can happen.”
“Are they involved at all in your yoga practice? I have to believe that can only help them.”
This was the kind of work I could do—meeting new people, getting them to open up. You just asked questions, and let the other person talk. Simple. Plus, I genuinely liked it. So even though I wasn’t actually an employee of my family's business, attending events on their behalf was one of the few things I was willing to do for them.
“Yes. It took them years, but they both do yoga twice a week. Now if I could only get them to eat better.”
“Oh! Have you met Chef Mike? Let me introduce you. He does a lot of innovative things with food and events and catering. Maybe he’ll have some ideas for you.”
We made our way toward the other side of the room, where Chef Mike and my friends had been moments before. This small room, which was off to the side of the ballroom where the charity ball would be held, had gotten much more crowded in that short amount of time. Since I barely broke 5’5” even in heels, I couldn’t see my friends anymore.
Chef Mike was a super cute big man, like linebacker big, so I spotted him first, and then some people shifted out of our way. I was looking for Ellie and James, but my gaze snagged on the man next to Chef Mike. Well, hellooo there, tall, dark, and handsome. Now, where did you come from?
Okay, he wasn’t crazy tall. I think he was about six feet, but everyone was taller than me. He looked about my age, maybe a little older… mid-thirties, maybe? He had dark wavy hair, dark skin tanned by the sun, and thick dark eyelashes lining bright blue eyes. And he was most definitely handsome. I was sticking with it—tall, dark, and handsome.
“Chef Mike. Hi. I hope you don’t mind if we interrupt.” Chef Mike was a funny, gregarious guy—he wouldn’t mind the interruption. James and Ellie were nowhere to be seen.
“Jasmine. Hi.” He leaned way down and gave me a hug. “What a nice surprise. Are you here with Ellie and James?” Chef Mike’s cooking class—he auctioned it off every year at the charity ball—was actually how Ellie and James met. It was a singles event called Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Cooking Class. It had been known to match up a couple or two.
“Not tonight. Tonight I’m here for my family’s business. I wanted you to meet Denise. I told her you might have some ideas on helping her get her parents to start eating healthier.”
Ch
ef Mike reached out and shook Denise’s hand.
“Perfect timing. We were just discussing healthier eating. Ladies, this is Quinn O’Connell, of O’Connell Organics.”
Denise and Quinn shook hands, and then Denise and Chef Mike began discussing the food habits of Denise’s parents. I turned to shake Quinn’s hand, and I enjoyed the fact that he was even better looking close up. It was fun for me.
What was not fun for me? When his slightly lopsided smile and his firm handshake sent a brief tingle of electricity up my arm. Shoot. Finding this guy attractive was one thing. Actually being attracted was something else. I didn’t want to be attracted. Even to tall, dark, and handsome.
I mentally shook that thought out of my head. “Would I know O’Connell Organics from anywhere?”
“You might. Our biggest presence right now is at farmers markets.”
“Hmm.” I tapped my lower lip. “I can’t remember the last time I was at a farmers market.”
“What about farm-to-table restaurants?”
“Wait.” I cocked my head to the side. “Did you just say ‘charmed and fables?’”
“What? No. Why would I say that?” He gave me a small smile.
“I don’t know, but if we’re talking about fairy tales, I always thought I should be a princess, and if your organic food can make that happen, I’m here for it.”
Quinn gave me a look like he wasn’t so sure about me. I got that look a lot.
“So you’re not a princess,” Quinn said, deadpan.
“Not yet. But now that I’m thinking about it, the ‘charmed’ part you mentioned is usually about the guy. I don’t need some new twist on prince charming, or a white knight riding up on his horse—like some modern day cowboy—to save me. I’m perfectly capable of saving myself.”
“I never said anything about being charmed. Or fabled, for that matter.” Quinn chuckled. “You did. And what do you have against cowboys?”
“Nothing.” I scrunched up my forehead. “Who doesn’t like a cowboy?”
“I thought you didn’t.” He gave his head a little shake. “Let’s try again. I said farm. To. Table.”
“Ohhhh.” I dragged it out a bit. “Sorry, the last time I did anything memorable with a table it was dancing on it, and it had nothing to do with organic food.”
That time, I didn't get the look, I got the laugh. Just what I was going for.
Quinn was smiling that crooked smile again, and his eyes crinkled at the corner. “What about you? You said you’re here for your family’s business. What do you do?”
This didn’t seem to be the right time—or even a necessary time—to go into the whole “I’m here for my family’s business but I’m not actually part of it” thing—so I gave him the basics of Chandran Medical.
“That’s important work." He placed his drink glass on the tray of a passing waiter. He made eye contact with the man and smiled at him, giving him a little nod.
I bit my lower lip. “Hmm, why does that sound like the right words to say, and yet I don’t get the feeling you actually mean them.”
“What? No. I—”
The director of the event tapped a spoon against a champagne flute, gathering everyone’s attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you again for being sponsors for our ball tonight. I hope you’ve enjoyed your happy hour. The ballroom next door is now open, so enjoy the rest of your evening, and thank you again.”
I turned my head. “Quinn. It was nice meeting you. Enjoy the rest of your night.” I gave a little wave to Denise and Chef Mike and made my way to the ballroom. My official work for the night was done—I needed to find Ellie and James.
I was glad my interaction with Quinn O’Connell didn’t turn into some huge, fabulously flirtatious thing. He seemed more confused by me than anything. Plus, I could ignore that little thrill I got when we shook hands. It was proof that I wasn't interested.
Because truth be told, I wasn’t interested in being interested in anyone right now.
Chapter 2
- Jasmine
“But will she like it?" I tipped my head to the right.
“You know she loves anything you do with her.” Ellie tapped the sign-up sheet with a pen.
“I know, but I feel like I should try to expand her horizons.”
“It probably wouldn’t be a bad time to expand your own horizons.” Ellie bumped her shoulder into mine.
I let out a deep breath and took a drink of my champagne. “You’re not wrong.”
The two of us stood in front of one of the silent auction items that was up for bid. I glanced around. The ballroom glittered, and slivers of light were thrown over everything. The low lighting and the reflective crystals from the chandeliers reminded me of what I wore to last year's event. No crystal bustier for me this year. I was all business, even in formal wear. Black, black, and more black. Tailored and a bit severe, but still beautiful. Just one large bracelet cuff of crystals. I couldn’t completely shut off who I was, even when I was representing my family’s business.
“A trail ride on horseback is so far outside my world, I won’t just be expanding my horizons, I think it might put me in a galaxy, far, far away.”
Ellie chuckled. “Again. Might not be the worst thing for you. You seem to be in a bit of a slump lately, and that's not like you. Plus, EB will love it no matter what. ‘Cause, it’s with you.”
EB was Ellie’s niece, soon-to-be adopted daughter. We all fell in love with her when Ellie started taking care of her after Ellie’s sister died. She was a funny, clever, eight-year-old with a soft heart. I tried to spoil her when I could.
“I don’t know if I’d call it a slump, exactly. It’s not like I don’t have guys to date. I do.” I tried to muster up some enthusiasm, but Ellie was right. I was in a bit of a slump, no matter how much I tried to deny it. “But even more than the guys, it’s my parents.” Ugh. I didn’t want to think about that at all—I could just imagine the opinion they’d have on my choices. All my choices.
I grabbed the pen and jotted down my bid. On top of a horse was the exact opposite of down in the dumps. Maybe it would work.
“Come on. Let's see what else we can find,” Ellie said. “If getting you in a saddle isn’t going to do it for you, maybe we can—”
Ellie didn’t finish her sentence, because she was interrupted. By Quinn O’Connell.
“Getting back in the saddle cures a lot of ails. I bet it can cure yours, too.” He looked right at me, then smiled at Ellie.
“I beg your pardon?” I said. “Cure me of what, exactly?” Didn’t I just say to myself I didn’t want to be interested in this guy? Where did he even come from? I crossed my arms over my chest. Ellie’s eyebrows were raised practically to her forehead, and she looked from me to Quinn, then back to me.
“I’m not sure, exactly, but it’ll help. I guarantee it.” He smirked.
“And how would you know?”
“I’m Farm Boy Ranch.”
“You’re what?”
“Farm Boy Ranch. The ranch offering the trail rides you just bid on.” Quinn slid his hand into his pocket, and—wait. Did his eyes actually twinkle? Surely it was the chandeliers.
“You’re Farm Boy Ranch?” It was a question, but I said it more like a statement.
“Yes.”
“And O’Connell Organics.”
Quinn gave a small nod. “Yes.”
“And a cowboy.”
“Also. Yes.”
“Jasmine, were you going to introduce me to your friend?” Ellie’s eyebrows were still raised, and she had a small smile on her face.
“I’d like to meet your friend, too, Jasmine.” Dr. John Marks, my ex-boyfriend—now just friend—materialized by my side, and he sounded a bit on the jealous side. Not what I needed right now.
“You guys. He’s not really a fr—”
“Nice to meet you both.” Quinn reached out his hand to shake first Marks’ hand, then Ellie’s. They introduced themselves. And I was reminded of that little spark from our earlier handshake.
“I’m Quinn O’Connell, with Farm Boy Ranch and O’Connell Organics. Jasmine and I met earlier, and after she wins the horseback ride, I’ll be seeing more of her. Maybe you guys can join as well.” He flashed them both that lopsided smile and turned back to me. He cleared his throat, and suddenly looked more serious. “Um, I need to meet with some other people,” he said. “I’ll see you around.”
