She excitedly clicks her heels on the floor. "Yes!" Her eyes immediately start scanning the store. "And we'll throw in some cute dresses and casual wear too." Her head snaps back to me before I can object. "For dinners and cocktail parties. My father hosts them weekly."
I don't argue. She's right. I need to get out of my own way. I need to let go of what I can't change, and not all distractions are bad; sometimes they are necessary. A change is a good reset, and I could use that.
"Thank you,again, for watching Katie during the auction. The auction is as much rubbing shoulders as it is buying a horse," Ms. Cintel says before dropping to one knee for Katie. "I promise we can go to the American Doll store on our way home."
I don't know much about Katie and Ms. Cintel's story, aside from the tidbits Katie has shared with me the past two days her mom has been staying at Fairfield. Every day, she comes out to the training ring in the far field and stands on the fence, watching me work. She talks about anything and everything, but not much about home. However, from the comments I've pieced together, it sounds like her parents are in the middle of a divorce, which could be why Ms. Cintel is trying to sweeten her up now.
"Okay," Katie answers dolefully, which I find somewhat amusing. She might truly be sad that her mother is choosing work over her, but I also know the girl loves horses. She's been stuck to me like glue since they arrived, and I doubt she's as upset about hanging out with me as she's letting on.
"I love you." She kisses her head before standing to full height. "Thanks, Laney. You're truly a lifesaver," she says before waltzing off toward the upstairs VIP viewing room.
Two hours later, we've strolled the entire property and viewed all the horses. They're gorgeous and truly well taken care of. From what I can see, these horses are handled with the utmost care. I've heard stories about that not always being the case, but Elite Equine delivers on its namesake.
"What do you say we take a lap through the inside one more time and see what horses have been sold?" I ask Katie.
"Sure, want to make a bet?" Her big brown eyes sparkle with mischief as she turns on a dime, her pigtails lifting off her shoulders from the force of her spin.
I cross my arms and give her my best poker face. "I'm listening."
"If White Flame sold, then you'll let me ride Hopper tomorrow."
When we walked through the stables for the pre-auction viewing,she asked if I thought any of the horses might not sell, and my answer was White Flame. He's a beautiful horse, but some would consider him past his prime, pushing eight years old. That being said, depending on who the buyer is and the sport they're looking for, he could be an excellent buy. However, Asha said this auction was primarily for buyers interested in racing.
I hold out my hand. "I'll accept on one condition."
She pauses, her hand inches away from shaking mine. "I'm listening."
"Your mom has to approve the ride."
"Deal." We shake on it and make our way inside.
When we turn the corner, she runs down the center of the stable. "Katie," I call after her. "Don't run! Those boots are a little too big," I warn as I jog as best I can in the two-inch wedges Asha insisted I wear with the white floral double-breasted blazer and matching fitted skirt. I'm glad I agreed to let her buy me clothes. I owned nothing that would have worked for this event, but while I'm thankful for the outfit, it's currently not ideal for chasing after a young child with a mind of her own. I catch up to her only for my own shoe to catch in a divot on the stone floor.
"Whoa, there, slow down," a familiar voice says as strong hands catch me by the arms before I can hit the ground. His grip is steadying and lingers a beat too long.
"Thanks," I say, sucking in a long breath that I hold as I step away.
"I don't believe we've been properly introduced." His voice is smooth like honey and it’s accompanied by a devastating smile that never wavers. "Trigger Hale. Most people just call me Trigg."
I can't stand that close and smell him. He smells too good, and the last thing I need to do is catch feelings for Trigger Hale. His last name alone affects me more than it should, without the added complication of knowing my best friend has some type of feelings for him. She may not be ready to admit what's written all over her face, but I see it. I see everything.
“Laney.” I tuck a flyaway behind my ear. “Laney Hart.”
The shift is subtle, so slight I almost miss it, but I know I saw it. His eyes narrowed fractionally when my name left my lips. It could be coincidence, or it could be another instance of my self-sabotage, grasping at invisible threads that might connect back to the man I lost. But the predatory stillness that follows has my skin prickling with warning, and a chill runs down my spine when it hits me. This move was calculated. He said my name the other day at the coffee shop, but neither Asha nor I had supplied it. This isn't an introduction. It's a confirmation of something he already knew. The shift I caught was a puzzle piece clicking into place, and I was the missing piece he'd been waiting to find.
"Are you running from someone?" His tone is momentarily stripped of all that practiced charm.
I pull at the lapels of my blazer, straightening the fabric with deliberate precision as my mind races. I was indeed running but not being chased. He had to have heard me call out for Katie, considering he caught me mere seconds after I stumbled. His choice of words makes my pulse stutter.Running from someone.Notrunning tosomeone, notchasingsomeone.From.The distinction claws at me. Each innocent interaction suddenly feels loaded with hidden meaning, each coincidence too convenient to be random.
He either senses my unease or I’ve truly let my suspicions runaway with my better judgment because his lips quirk into a smile. "I was only joking." The honeyed warmth returns to his voice. "Though, I am curious why you were running."
Katie's small silhouette catches my eye seconds too late. Her finger is already poking him in the arm. "She was trying to keep up with me, mister. Now, if you don't mind, I have a bet to win."
Trigg smiles the first full, genuine smile I've seen from him, and the anxiousness I feel whenever he's been around returns. His smile: it's not just his. It's London's.
"Is that so? Well, I'd hate to keep you from winning. You think I can tag along?"
"Why not? I could use a witness." She shrugs before skipping back to the stall that White Flame was in earlier.
