Cruel as a Cucumber
Chapter 1: A Hasty Assumption
Author's note: New Klaroline story! I'm expanding Chapter 28 from my short story series, A Beautiful Symmetry, into a multi-chap AU human!Klaroline story. (The new content starts on Chapter 3!) Klaus meets Caroline at a farmer's market in a quirky Gulf Coast town. Despite that hilariously awkward first encounter, sparks fly as Klaus attempts to settle into small-town life.
There is such a thing as too much butt cheek before 9:00 am. Especially when it was stuffed in a lime green thong and walking unabashedly down the sidewalk on Bougainvillea Avenue. Caroline Forbes shook her head, an indulgent smile on her lovely face as she stacked woven baskets for her customers to use at her produce stand. She'd been a resident of the sleepy little beachside community of Mystic Port, Florida, for several years now, but its quirky, charming residents still delighted her on a daily basis.
She had vacationed down here just once, eager to escape the high-pressure world of academia, and practically overnight made the decision to leave behind her tedious life and embrace something far more carefree. This tiny, laid-back community full of hippies and those who were secretly hippies at heart, talented artists, and other lovable strays had welcomed her with open arms and she couldn't imagine finding any other place that made her feel like she was on a permanent vacation. In her previous world, Caroline's gardening hobby had been limited to meager flower pots on her balcony in her city high-rise, but out here, she had blossomed into Mystic Port's resident farmer, and supplied several of the local restaurants with her homegrown produce.
She noticed that one of the local bands, the oddly named Sirens...Meh, was setting up down the street under a large, colorful umbrella. A bluesy-alternative rock sister act, they usually played at the small town's venues, delighting the audience with self-penned songs like, "Lookin' for Plots in All the Wrong Places" and "Continuity (You're Never Gonna Get It)". They also relished playing the standards like "Sympathy for the Devil" and "Shout at the Devil", which always got the crowd fired up. Caroline waved to them cheerfully, wishing them luck as they set an old rusty bell upside down on the sidewalk to serve as their tip jar.
As she adjusted the miniature chalkboard sign beside the Roma tomatoes, she heard a crisp British accent inquire, "The Bountiful Ceres? A bit on the nose, don't you think, sweetheart?"
She straightened, swiping at her sweaty temple to regard an uncommonly attractive man with dirty blonde curls and a smug smirk. From his accent, she assumed he was a 'snowbird', a foreign tourist who came to Florida during the winter to enjoy a sunburn in January. Not that she could fault them for that — she still felt giddy at the thought of her shoe closet being stuffed with nothing but year-round flips flops ranging from casual to dressy depending upon the occasion. Realizing that the beautiful stranger had no intention of moving onto the next booth until she responded, she answered lightly, "That's a hasty assumption. It's entirely possible I named my farm after the dwarf planet in the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter rather than the Roman goddess of agriculture."
Raising an impressed eyebrow, he said, "I wouldn't think astronomy would be common knowledge in a quaint farmer's market." He fiddled with the curved stem of one of her yellow-green cubanelle peppers in a manner that she almost considered erotic except he was being a condescending asshat.
She answered somewhat stiffly, "You'd be amazed at the backgrounds of some of our little town's transplants. There's physicists, chemical engineers, former ambassadors, mothers, fathers, friends, lovers, and everything in between, all content to bask in the quaintness."
He unexpectedly flashed a set of innocent dimples at her curt statement, and held out his hand to shake hers. "I'm Klaus. And where do you fit in with that eclectic mix of professions, sweetheart," he asked curiously, his gray eyes studying her intently.
She warmed under his casual perusal, and did her best not to self-consciously try to tuck frizzy blonde curls back into her messy knot. "Caroline. Former teacher, current farmer."
"Caroline," he nodded, rolling the syllables around on his tongue, bathing them in that delicious accent of his. They were momentarily distracted by several brown pelicans that swooped low at the dock across the way, their delicate squeaks as they greeted each other adding to the steady hum of the farmer's market. Continuing his interrogation, Klaus asked, "What did you teach and where?"
She frowned slightly, trying to determine if he was being overly friendly or actually flirting with her. She always was so bad at this. "Science. At a university." She also was hesitant to give out further details unless pressed; otherwise, she was concerned it would sound uncomfortably like bragging.
As though sensing her discomfort, Klaus leaned forward across her booth, the simple navy t-shirt stretching seductively across the hard planes of his chest. "Horticulture, I assume? Which university?"
Rolling her blue eyes, she replied. "Astrophysics. At Columbia." A small, petty part of her thoroughly enjoyed the way surprise flitted across his handsome face and his expression turned somewhat sheepish. Anxious to move along this awkward meeting so she could return to her normal routine, she pointed out her multi-level display of berries and asked, "So what can I get you today? I'm running a special on blueberries, strawberries and blackberries — $3 per pint or a half-flat for $10."
Klaus chuckled, the melodious sound somehow conveying both amusement and slight annoyance. "Anxious to be rid of me, sweetheart? And here I was hoping you could tell me what surely must be a fascinating story of how you ended up here."
She huffed, folding her arms across her chest, trying to be mindful of the enormous sweat stains that had likely started appearing on her pink tank top. "I'm not that fascinating. Especially in this town." She jerked her chin at the space over Klaus' shoulder, and he turned just in time to see a broad-shouldered gentleman with dark hair strutting about the farmer's market wearing nothing but a lime green thong and a giant smile.
Watching as the man waved to the various vendors and called out flirty greetings of "Hey, gorgeous!" to women young and old alike, Klaus seemed flummoxed for the moment. Turning back to Caroline he said, "I'm a bit surprised your town council allows that level of nudity in public. This isn't Miami."
Caroline shrugged, enjoying Klaus' obvious discomfort. "It's Mystic Port. We focus on actual concerns rather than something as harmless as a little bare skin. Besides," she added with a secret grin, "that's Enzo, our town's mayor."
"Well, I was going to argue your point about what you consider fascinating, but between that overly confident lad there and then that peculiar brunette near the sea shell wind chimes booth, perhaps I should defer to your more experienced judgement," he joked, trying and failing at not blatantly staring when the odd woman began to lick her hand and then groom her arms and neck, much like a cat.
Caroline airily explained, "That's just Katherine, who unsurprisingly insists we call her Kat. One of the psychics here told her that she was a reincarnated Himalayan and that her muscle memory would retain certain aspects of her past life." At his stunned expression, she added somewhat defensively, "So she's a bit out there, but she's a good person and a very attentive, loving pet owner, so she's more than ok in my books."
"Let me guess — she has an inordinate number of cats," he asked faintly.
"More of a dog person, really. She has two absolutely gorgeous golden retrievers that have a weekly advice column in our local newspaper. Well, Kat ghostwrites the column for them, but she swears she infuses their personality in the writing," Caroline cheerfully told him, thoroughly enjoying the way his eyebrows nearly grazed his hairline with each unusual revelation.
Before Klaus could question her further about the town's quirky residents, they were interrupted by a statuesque blonde who said in a clipped tone of exasperation, "There you are, Nik! I swear this odd little chap keeps following me about offering to give me an exclusive tour of this bizarre village. I'm sure you've noticed him; he's practically naked and keeps calling me 'gorgeous'." Her fierce green eyes flashed as she finished her impassioned speech, flicking over to Caroline briefly. Putting a hand on her hip she snorted, adding, "Although you've clearly been too busy flirting with the locals to notice."
"That's Enzo," Caroline helpfully explained, irritated that she immediately wanted to know how Klaus knew the beautiful blonde. Objectively, she could admit they made a stunning couple, with striking features and a commanding presence. They probably had beautiful blonde babies in a predictably rigid, perfect little white-picket-fence world. Ugh. Seriously, snap out of it. "You should consider taking him up on his offer; he knows more about our town than anyone and is a hoot to talk to." She tried not to feel relief at the way the mystery woman kept covertly scanning the crowd, obviously hoping to run into Enzo again.
Klaus tugged on the blonde's ponytail, giving her an impish smile as he told Caroline, "Caroline, this is my sister, Rebekah. Rebekah, this lovely creature is Caroline, who was regaling me with tales about this intriguing town."
"Charmed," Rebekah, drawled, taking in Caroline's sweaty appearance and dirt-streaked capri jeans with a critical brow. "Tell me, Caroline, does your city not have any HOAs? I've been quite surprised by the flamboyantly painted homes in the area. There was one house, such a shame really, because it would have been such a lovely Key West-style cottage if not for the appalling purple it's painted."
Klaus nodded in agreement, asking Caroline, "Surely you know the one we mean, love? It's down the road, perched on the corner. There's a giant cluster of sunflowers that nearly swallows the mailbox."
Caroline's blue eyes strayed to the soothing sight of the sailboats peacefully floating on the sparkling blue-green Gulf. She needed to get a handle on her temper that was threatening to crush the judgmental, uptight fish and chips platters standing before her. "Yup. It's my house. Perhaps appalling is relative. Like manners."
She felt a grim sort of satisfaction in the way the rude siblings paled at her revelation. Rebekah offered her a pained smile and said quietly, "Right. Well, that's incredibly awkward. Um, sorry?" She nodded once in Caroline's direction and bid a hasty retreat, muttering under her breath to her brother, "Good luck recovering from that one, Nik."
Klaus immediately cleared his throat, opening and then shutting his mouth as he clearly strained to think of something to say to alleviate the uncomfortable tension. Caroline busied herself with a few customers that appeared, flashing them brilliant smiles and asking after their families. She had just finished handing off the last bag of colorful bell peppers to her remaining customer when Klaus mumbled, "Sorry about that." He rubbed the back of his neck, refusing to make eye contact with her. "This part usually goes better for me."
Caroline flashed an evil grin, dryly asking, "Let me guess — your dimples always work to smooth over your insults? They must put in a lot of overtime."
Reddening slightly, Klaus laughed, and then attempted to change the topic when he observed, "You seem to be doing brisk business at the market today. Is there a special event happening?"
Still amused by his obvious embarrassment, she decided to quit trying to shuffle him away from her booth. "Business is usually pretty steady, plus I'm the supplier for a couple of the restaurants here."
His gray eyes lit up at her words and he asked excitedly, "Really? In that case, you would know the best places to eat around here then. What do you recommend?"
As an enthusiastic foodie, she was pleased to see that Klaus seemed to be one as well. "If you're in the mood for Italian, the Salvatores feature their family's old recipes and have the best marinara sauce I've tasted since leaving New York. It's one block south, called Lily's Trattoria. Or, across the street from them is Lockwood Grill. They serve this Oklahoma-style barbecue with a savory-sweet sauce that I still can't figure out how to duplicate. They also usually win all the barbecue championships in the area."
Klaus seemed to soak up every bit of local food knowledge she was willing to share. With a slight hitch to his voice he asked, "Both options sound delicious. Do you have any other places you'd like to tell me about?"
She finished reorganizing the cucumbers that had been scattered during the last wave of customers, and answered with a frown, "Actually, it's a shame you weren't vacationing here a couple of months ago. There was this tiny little cafe that had been in the Gilbert family for generations. It was the oldest business in Mystic Port and it's where all of our town parades would end. We'd all gather there and have their specialty, key lime pie fritters." Her mouth watered as she recalled their menu. "Actually, their food was the perfect example of home-style Florida cooking from fresh grouper sandwiches, sweet potato fries, cracked-pepper shrimp and buttered grits..." she trailed off dreamily as she recalled the heavenly aromas that would waft from their open windows during the day.
He seemed to hang on her every word and she shook her head sadly as she lamented, "It's a damn shame what happened when Elena and Jeremy's parents died and they had to sell off the property. Everyone around here felt bad for them, but by the time we all found out about their debt, it was too late for us to do anything about it — some investors already had snapped up the property."
Caroline had no idea her storytelling was this captivating, but the way his gray eyes widened with every detail and his hushed voice as he asked, "And then what happened?" convinced her that maybe she should have been a writer after all. Everyone had at least one novel in them, she figured.
"Well," she began in a sour tone, "these investors came in and tore down the original structure because Enzo couldn't get the historical society to declare it a landmark because it was one year too young to meet the requirements for a historical site. And then, the investors sent in this conceited asshat who came into town, met with the original cafe's staff, and fired all of them on the spot!" She clenched her fists, angrily starting to put away some of the zucchini, yellow squash and green beans as she realized the market hours were nearing the end.
Klaus frowned, holding out a woven basket to hold the array of vegetables she'd gathered. "He fired all of them," he asked, clearly trying to work out the finer points of her story.
"You bet. Everyone. We had a blowout party to give them a proper sendoff the other night down at Donovan's Tavern." She gritted her teeth as she thought about it some more. "Ugh! The rumor is that these investors are planning to turn the restaurant into a fine dining experience on the water, but this is so not the place for that. In a town whose motto is 'Keep Mystic Port weird,' you can bet that no one is going to be that interested in foie gras and escargot. Plus, we're hours away from large cities and airports, so the only tourists that come here are those that want a relaxed, casual vacation."
Caroline laughed, pushing back a few sweaty blonde curls from her casual knot at the base of her neck. "Seriously, the new owners did not do their homework if they thought pretentious, over-priced and likely way overrated food was the way to fit in with us."
Klaus added the last armload of bell peppers to the basket on one of her tables, and then straightened, offering her a tight smile. "Well, it seems I could have used your advice two months ago, sweetheart." As she froze in place, horror dawning in her bright blue eyes, he added somewhat awkwardly, "I'm Niklaus Mikaleson, former CFO and apparently utter failure as a new restaurateur."
