Secretariat Reborn (8 page)

“You know I don’t care about that stuff. The only alligator I want to see is on a new purse.” She giggled. “The sooner they fill this swamp in and put up condos, the better.”

He slammed on the brakes, pushed up his sunglasses, and glared at her. “You really think that way? That the Glades shouldn’t be preserved?”

“Please, don’t start your homeboy ranting. If left alone, you crackers would still be living in huts on the beach.”

“Exactly, there’d still be a goddamn beach instead of a coastline of concrete.” He pushed down his irritation and drove out of the rest stop, merging with the highway traffic.

Kate raised her eyebrows. “When we reach Miami, what do you want to eat for lunch?”

“I don’t care.”

“Hmmm, I feel like shrimp cocktail.”

He had planned to have that honest talk about their relationship on the ride home, but decided to bring it up now. “I’ve been thinking, Kate. Besides sex, what do we have in common?”

“Chris, you’re blond.” She smirked. “Don’t try to think.” When he failed to smile or respond, she went on, “Baby, we’re the beautiful people, and people like us belong together. And you’re my equal in bed. You’re my boy toy, baby.”

“I’m serious, Kate. There are things that bother me.”

She put her soda down and turned toward him. “You’re not thinking of breaking up?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Good.” She relaxed back into her seat and twirled a lock of her shoulder-length hair through her fingers. “Chris, I do love you. And besides my dad, you’re the only man with the balls to stand up to me. I respect that, and you’re an excellent lover. We’re perfect together.”

“I’m not so sure we are perfect for each other. You hate everything I love—my boat, the water, the Glades. I’d like to share more than bed with someone. The boy toy thing is wearing thin. You say you respect me, but you don’t show it. It’d be nice if you were a little more flexible and less critical. I’m not real happy with the way things are.”

He glanced over at her to see how she had taken the truth, but she turned her head toward the window. Ten minutes passed without a word, unusual for Kate, who normally had a quick, cutting comeback. He began to think she was considering all he had said and might be more reasonable. But he was a guy, not in tune with the mysterious mind of a woman.

She turned and glared at him. “You’ve met someone else, haven’t you?” she snarled. “Probably some sailing slut who showed up at your crummy business. Who is she, Chris?”

He choked a little, shocked by her conclusion. “There’s no one else. I was hoping if I told you how I felt it would improve our relationship. But just forget it.” He shook his head. “Forget I said anything.”

But she couldn’t. Like a cat with a stepped-on tail, she puffed up, her eyes became slits, and her voice elevated to a screeching hiss as she berated and accused him of cheating. When he clammed up and took the abuse, thinking she’d calm down, she upped the ante. Her ranting turned to threats. “If you leave me, Chris, you’ll be fucking sorry, one sorry fucking prick!”

Startled by her hateful tone and scare tactics, he lashed out, “What the hell do you mean by that?”

“I meant …” she seethed and then hesitated for a moment. Her voice softened. “I meant you’d be sorry because you’d never find anyone to replace me.” She covered her face and started crying. “Chris, I love you. I can’t live without you. Promise you won’t leave me.”

“You’re not listening. I’m not going anywhere. There is no other girl.” He pulled her close so she could rest her head against his side. “Please don’t cry.” She put her arm around his waist, clinging to
him, and continued to whimper. A sucker for a woman’s tears, he felt guilty he had hurt her.

She stopped grasping his waist, and her hand moved to the crotch of his pants. He knew a blow job was coming. Like all their unresolved arguments, Kate’s resolution was sex.

“Not now, Kate,” he said breathlessly. “We’ll be at the hotel soon.”

She ignored him.

At noon they arrived at the hotel off the track, but Christian knew the sex was far from over, that a long marathon on the bed awaited him. For now he’d do his best to satisfy her, not wanting to revisit the cursing and crying jag that occurred on the ride.

In the dark, cool hotel room, their clothes came off. After four months, he knew that the what and how with her never involved tender kisses or caresses. A few hours later, he collapsed on his stomach, totally spent.

She pushed his damp locks from his closed eyes and kissed him. “You did good, baby,” she whispered.

“Glad you’re happy,” he murmured. After several minutes, he managed to gather his limbs under him and rise.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking a shower,” he said and walked toward the bathroom. “I have to go to the track and tell the trainer I’m here so I don’t miss Hunter’s workout in the morning.”

“You’re leaving me for a horse?” she called.

He glanced around the corner at her slender nude body stretched across the bed. “Kate, we talked about this. Why don’t you come with me? You can see my colt, and then we can go to the clubhouse and watch some races over lunch.”

“Not interested, horses and barns are filthy. I’d rather order room service and rest up for South Beach tonight.”

In the shower, he closed his eyes, hoping the coursing water would revive him. He felt physically and mentally whipped.

Kate was wrapped in the sheets when he walked back into the room, damp and naked. He dug out a pair of clean jeans from his bag as she watched.

“God, you are one gorgeous creature, Chris. I can never get enough of you.” She smiled and pushed the sheets aside. “Sure you have to go?”

He pulled up his jeans and grabbed a fresh shirt. “I won’t be long. Could you order me a sandwich from room service?”

“Fine.” She re-covered herself with sheets and reached for the TV remote.

Christian walked down the hallway to the elevator and reflected on the hellish trip through the Glades. He was accustomed to Kate’s rudeness and sarcasm, but had never been subjected to her vicious name-calling and threats. It surprised him. Furthermore, it gave him a good taste of what would happen if he actually left her. He flung his wet bangs out of his eyes.
Always figured men were spineless jerks when they used a note or text message to break up. Now I’m not so sure
.

At the track, Christian parked in front of Ed Price’s barn and walked to his colt’s stall. Hunter stuck his head out immediately for a caress.

“Hey, boy, remember me?” he said and stepped into the stall. “How’ve they been treating you?” Stroking the colt’s neck, he noticed the new shorter coat. The full-body clip kept the horse cooler in the Florida heat. He ran his hand across the animal’s withers and first two ribs.

“You’ve lost a little weight.” Next he examined a few cuts on the front of Hunter’s back legs. “What happened here?” He left the stall, looking for Jorge. He found the groom in a stall several doors down from Hunter’s, tending a charcoal filly with silver-dappled rings on her rump. Her mane and tail were also silvery white. Jorge picked up a pail and poured ice into the loose wraps on the filly’s front legs.

“Hi, Jorge,” Christian said. “What’re you doing?”

“Hello, Mr. Roberts. I take care of this row of horses, and this
filly is in the eighth race. I must keep her legs cool. I call her my sweetheart.” When the filly nuzzled his face, he smiled. “You see? She loves me. She will do anything if asked and has won many big races. She will win today.”

“She’s a beauty.” Christian reached in and petted the filly. “So how’s my colt doing? Is he eating all right?”

“He finishes all his grain and is doing well. He is very calm. Already he goes to the racetrack. He breezed the other day, and I heard the exercise rider tell Mr. Price that your colt is a Cadillac.”

“A Cadillac?” Christian knitted his brows. “Does that mean he’s slow?”

“No, it is very good, Mr. Roberts. It means he is no cheap horse.”

“That’s great. Look, I’m staying at the track hotel and want to see him exercise in the morning. What time does he go?”

“Between five thirty and six,” said Jorge. “I will tell Mr. Price you are here and wish to see your horse gallop in the morning. We will wait until you arrive.”

Christian nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He thought about asking Jorge about Hunter’s cuts and weight loss, but figured he’d wait for his expensive trainer to explain. He walked back to Hunter. The colt curled and smacked his lips, normally the gesture of a foal when begging for food or acceptance from a strange horse.

“What do you want, more petting?”

Hunter tossed his head up and down as if he understood.

“I’ll be damned.” Christian chuckled. He spent another half hour fooling with Hunter until the colt had enough and began eating his hay.

Christian left the track and returned to the dark hotel room. He found Kate sitting cross-legged on the bed, staring at the TV. She wore a black silk robe, and her wet hair was wrapped in a towel. On the sheets before her were plates of a half-eaten shrimp cocktail and salad.

She glanced up at him. “I ordered you a BLT.”

“Thanks,” he said and stepped out of his shoes. He walked to the window and opened the curtains. “You don’t want to see the horses? They’re racing right below us.”

“I saw them, but I don’t watch horses unless I have a bet on one. Could you close the curtains? I can’t see the TV with the glare.”

“Sure.” He took his sandwich off a tray and joined her on the bed. Leaning against a pillow and the headboard, he sat with his legs stretched out, ate, and watched a corny sitcom on the TV.

Kate curled up next to him. “Chris, I’m sorry I screamed at you earlier and calling you names. I freaked out, thinking I was losing you. I’ve had boyfriends, but never been in love like this.”

Christian stroked her head, and after Kate drifted to sleep, he changed the channel to Discovery. An hour later, she woke and spent an enormous amount of time in the bathroom, getting ready for the evening.

Before sundown, they left for lower Miami Beach. Colorful Art Deco buildings lined the streets, and the couple took in the local food, dining in a Cuban restaurant. Afterward they hit the posh nightclubs that bustled with young people and blaring music. They drank mojitos and danced into the night. Kate was in her element, flirting and fast becoming friends with an ethnic blend of strangers.

At midnight, Christian suggested they leave, since he had to rise early, but Kate brushed him off. By one o’clock, though, he insisted. “Kate, we have to go. As it is, I’m only going to catch a few hours of sleep.”

“You go back to the hotel and get your beauty rest,” she sniped, her words slurred. “I’ll get a cab.”

If they had been in Sarasota and among friends, he would have walked out and not argued, but here, he wouldn’t dream of leaving his intoxicated girlfriend with this crowd. He took her arm. “Come on, Kate. We’re leaving.”

She pulled, attempting to get free. “Let go of me, Chris.”

A tall Jamaican man with beaded dreadlocks migrated to Kate’s side. “Hey, mon,” he said to Christian, “de lady wants to stay with
us. Let go of her.” Several of the man’s friends moved in, encircling them.

“That’s right,” Kate chimed in.

Christian held on to her and grumbled, “Shut up, Kate.” He straightened to his full stature and glared at the Jamaican. Having a long, rough day and then several cocktails to give him blind courage, Christian was pumped up and ready to punch someone. “She came with me, and she’s leaving with me. And, mon,” he mocked, “you don’t want to fuck with me.”

The black man tilted his head, analyzing Christian and his incensed demeanor. A cocky grin slowly emerged and he said, “No problem, mon, no problem. She’s yours.”

Christian escorted Kate through the packed dance floor and outside, with her bitching all the way. Her griping continued on the ride back to the hotel and stopped in their hotel room only when he screwed her so he could get some sleep.

The room phone rang, and Christian, half awake, fumbled to answer it, knowing it was the hotel clerk with his five o’clock wake-up call. His head in a fog and hurting, he staggered from the bed and entered the bathroom. With no time to shower and shave, he splashed water on his face and threw on his clothes.

He glanced at Kate before leaving. She was still passed out cold. He no longer saw the gorgeous woman he had fallen for months earlier, and the trip that he had hoped would bring them closer, was instead driving him away.

In the dark, he drove to Price’s barn. The place was alive with horses coming and going with their grooms and riders. He found the trainer in the shed row, talking on his cell phone, stopping only to shout out orders in Spanish to the men.

Christian waited patiently nearby and watched five horses and riders walk in a wide circle around a tree within the courtyard, warming up before going to the track.

Price closed the cell phone. “Mr. Roberts, Jorge told me you
were here. Your colt breezed a few days ago, but had I known you were coming, I would’ve waited. In the future give me a heads-up when you decide to drive down.”

“I’ll do that,” said Christian. “Jorge said the colt is doing great, that the exercise rider called him a Cadillac.”

“These grooms, they slay me.” Price cackled. “They tend to exaggerate, especially with a new client. You want information on your horse, you ask me. He worked a thirty-eight and change on a fast track, about average.”

Christian rubbed the stubble on his jaw. “That’s odd. My father breezed Hunter before I brought him down and said his time was better than that. Dad wants him in maiden special weight.”

Price used a strand of hay like a toothpick and poked it in his mouth. “Every mom-and-pop operation in Ocala tells me they’ve bred a stake horse. Unfortunately, the track clocker is exact and doesn’t lie,” he said. “Your father must have had a fast watch. But don’t worry, Mr. Roberts, your colt should do well in his maiden race.”

Price called down the shed row to Jorge and another man, and turned back to Christian. “They’ll get your colt saddled, and the rider will take him to the track. We’ll ride to the grandstands in my golf cart and watch him gallop.” Abruptly, he walked across the courtyard and began talking to an exercise boy.