The a Circuit (13 page)

Tommi stepped back quickly, not wanting them to see her. But it was too late for her not to have seen them. The image of the two of them was burned into her retinas, and she couldn’t help feeling kind of sick about it. Not because she’d expected any better of either of them, necessarily. And she was certainly no prude. But she’d actually started to believe that Fitz might be seriously interested in Kate. Maybe even as something more than a fling.

“Guess not,” she whispered as she ducked around the corner.

Just then her cell phone buzzed, and she grabbed it out of her pocket. It was a text from her father. “
CALL ME
,” it read.

Tommi rushed down the aisle to a more private spot in one of the equipment rooms. She was embarrassed to notice that her fingers were trembling as she quickly punched in her father’s cell number.

“Dad?” she said when he picked up. “It’s me.”

“Tommi. Good, you got my message.” He sounded brisk and businesslike despite the late hour. “I’ve been thinking about your proposal. Even discussed it with your mother.”

“Oh?” Tommi was a little surprised. Her parents were amicably divorced, but the two of them didn’t chat very often. Especially since Tommi’s mother had moved to Florida with her new husband.

“I was pretty skeptical at first,” her father went on. “But I was also impressed with your initiative. So I’ve got a proposal for you—if you’re really serious about this idea of yours, I’ll chip in for half of this horse’s purchase price, and allow you to withdraw the other half from your trust fund.”

“Cool!” Tommi exclaimed. “I’m totally serious. I really think I—”

“Hold on, I’m not finished,” her father warned. “This isn’t a free ride, Thomasina. I expect you to prove you’re serious by training this horse up and getting him sold for a profit within two months.”

“Two months?” Tommi cried. “That’s nuts! I can’t—” Then she stopped herself, taking a deep breath. “I mean, that seems a little, um, ambitious as a schedule. I was thinking more like six or eight months to really get him showing and winning so he’ll be marketable, maybe taking him to Florida for the winter shows and getting him sold there.”

“That fancy barn of yours ain’t cheap, you know,” her father said. “If you’re paying board for six or eight months along with all those entry fees, not to mention shipping to Florida and so on, where’s your profit?”

Tommi had to admit he had a point. Still, if she pushed Legs too hard and fast, she could ruin him and not be able to sell at all.

“How about we say he needs to get sold by the last of the big indoor shows in the fall?” she said. “That’s a good way to get a horse seen.”

“Hmm.” Her father was silent for a second or two. “All right, I suppose that makes sense. But if the horse is still on the books after that, you have to agree to cut back your hours at the barn and focus more on academics. If you don’t have the grades, there’s no guarantee Georgetown’ll take you.”

Tommi was pretty sure that wasn’t true. She was no academic superstar, but her grades were respectable enough. And her father’s name was on a building and a couple of scholarships at his alma mater; she would get in if she wanted to. But she didn’t bother to point that out.

“And if I sell for a profit by then?” she asked.

“Then I’ll keep supporting this little business venture of yours at least through your senior year, and we’ll see what happens after that.”

“It’s a deal,” Tommi said.

“Good. I’ll give Jamie a call in the morning and work out the details. See you at home.”

“See you. Thanks, Dad.”

Tommi hung up and just stood there for a moment, clutching her phone and feeling kind of stunned. Her father was a master negotiator—she knew this was the best offer she was likely to get from him. But could she really do it? What if she failed? Was she ready to gamble her riding dreams on one quirky horse—and her own skills in handling him?

Then again, she’d never backed down from a challenge before. She would make this work. She had to. There was no other option.

TWELVE

When Zara woke up, she wasn’t sure where she was for a second. She’d been dreaming she was back in LA, chilling at one of her favorite nightclubs, only then she’d looked over and noticed that Jamie was the DJ. He’d started yelling at her, something about not living up to her potential, but Zara couldn’t hear him over the pounding music. Then Fitz had appeared and told her he and Tommi were getting married, and she was invited, but he needed to know how many slices of pepperoni she wanted on her pizza. She’d tried to tell him she didn’t like pepperoni, only she had to yell to get him to hear her because Jamie kept turning the music up even louder.

Then the obnoxious music had morphed into the blare of a truck horn on the street outside and she was awake, blinking in the harsh sunlight blasting in through the double-height windows along one side of the room. Now she remembered. She was in New York, in her family’s new penthouse loft in Soho.

“But I
do
like pepperoni,” she muttered right before the last remnants of her dream slipped away.

Sitting up and stretching, she looked around her new room. It was kind of bare and colorless compared to her room in the old house in the Hollywood Hills. But she liked it. It was clean, simple—no muss, no fuss. White walls, polished black wood floors, no moldings or other adornments. Maybe someday she’d add some color, paint one wall hot pink or something. But for now, she was okay with the minimalist look.

Pulling on a pair of shorts along with the tank she’d slept in, she padded out onto the landing in her bare feet. Glancing out over the metal-and-cable railing, she was surprised to see her father in the huge main living area below. He was lounging on one of the sleek retro vinyl sofas, sipping a cup of coffee while paging through the
New York Times
. Bo the bodyguard was reading a magazine nearby, but the rest of the posse was nowhere in sight.

“What’s the matter?” Zara asked as she walked down the stairs. “Finally run out of publicity crap to do?”

Zac glanced up at her and smiled. “Morning, Little Z.” Then he checked his watch and corrected himself. “Afternoon, I mean. You out late last night?”

Someone had laid out a full coffee-and-bagels extravaganza on the white lacquered console table near the bottom of the stairs, and Zara grabbed the coffeepot and poured herself a cup. Her mother hated when she drank coffee, claiming it would stunt her growth or give her zits or something. But Gina wasn’t here—she’d be stuck in Vancouver for most of the summer.

“Not really,” Zara told her father. “Just hung out at the barn for a while, then came home and watched TV.”

Zac sat up and stretched. “How are things going at your new barn? You liking it there?”

Zara thought back to last night’s pizza party. Hanging out with the whole gang had made her feel like a character in some lame-ass teen TV drama or something. But it had been kind of cool, too. Nobody did that kind of thing at her old barn.

Then there was Fitz. Just as she’d thought, that preppy exterior hid a wild streak. She was looking forward to finding out just how wild he could get. They’d made an interesting start yesterday, though Fitz had cut things short, saying someone would notice they were both gone. Zara wasn’t sure why that should matter, but she’d gone along with it.

“The new barn’s okay, I guess,” she told her father, blowing on the hot coffee as she sank down onto a leather club chair. “The people are totally East Coast. But most of them are tolerable.”

“And the new horse? That working out?”

“Mostly.” Zara grimaced when she thought about yesterday’s pathetic lesson. She still couldn’t believe she’d fallen off. At least the others hadn’t rubbed her nose in it. Nobody had even mentioned it, at least to her face. “Jamie thinks I need to, like, take more lessons or something so I can ride her better or whatever. But I bet we’ll get used to each other. Mares can take a little longer to warm up to a new person sometimes, and I think …”

She let her voice trail off when she noticed that Zac’s eyes were already straying back to the paper. Typical.

“So I have some cool news,” he said, pretty much confirming that he’d just been getting the small talk over with so he could turn the conversation back to its usual topic—himself. “The band and I got invited to this big charity rockfest thing in Amsterdam next month.”

“Amsterdam? Really?” Zara looked up from her coffee, suddenly at least marginally interested.

Zac rubbed his hands together. “Yeah,” he said. “And while we’re over there, we figure we might as well extend the visit with a few shows around Europe. Marv and the guys are still figuring out the details, but it’s looking like we’ll be over there through August, probably.” He grinned at Zara. “So what do you say? Your mom’ll have to miss it, but how about the two of us hit the road together? We’ll probably leave right after that downtown benefit concert week after next.”

Zara couldn’t help smiling at his enthusiasm. Her dad loved touring—he pretty much lived for it. He wasn’t truly happy unless he was out on the road, living out of a bus or a hotel room, eating bad food and drinking good champagne, chain-smoking and stopping in strange bars for jam sessions in the middle of the night.

It had been a long time since he’d invited her along on tour, at least to anywhere good. And Amsterdam was one of Zara’s favorite places in the world. Hot European guys, legal drugs—what wasn’t to like? She opened her mouth to say she was in.

Then she noticed her riding boots, which she’d dropped by the bottom of the stairs last night. That reminded her that show season was really just gearing up. There was the big, prestigious Hounds Hollow show coming up soon, where she was planning to let Keeper show these East Coasters how the jumpers should be done. Then a couple of other major shows next month. If she went on this trip, she’d miss all of it. Not to mention tons of time at the new barn in between.

So what? Since when did that bother her? The barn would still be there when she got back. Jamie could keep her horses tuned up, maybe get Ellie some more show mileage so she’d be easier to ride when Zara returned. Wasn’t that the whole point of a full-service barn? To keep riding from interfering with the rest of her life?

All that made sense. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d be missing too much if she left now.

“I don’t know,” she told her father slowly. “Maybe. I’ll have to think about it.”

Zac looked surprised. “Fair enough, Little Z,” he said. “You let me know.” Picking up his coffee cup, he headed toward the kitchen.

Zara just stood there for a second, kind of weirded out by her reaction to her father’s invitation. Then she shook it off.

“Hey, Bo,” she called to the bodyguard as she headed back toward the stairs. “Call Mickey and tell him I need a ride to the barn. I’ll get dressed and meet him downstairs in half an hour.”

When Zara got to the barn, she spotted a lone rider in the closest outdoor ring. She took a few steps that way, wondering if it was Fitz—it looked like a guy.

Then she realized it was Jamie. He was riding a flashy bay large pony, which had made him look a lot taller than he was. Zara stood there for a moment, watching the trainer school the pony, which appeared to be young and a little green. This was the first time she’d seen him ride, and she had to admit she was impressed. The guy knew what he was doing. He was totally focused on his mount and hadn’t noticed her watching.

When he brought the pony back to a walk and gave it a pat, Zara moved on. Inside the main barn, she spotted Kate wielding a bottle of fly spray. She was doing her best to spray it on a tacked-up horse that Marissa was holding in the aisle. The dark bay warmblood was objecting by dancing around like an elephant avoiding a mouse.

“Guess your horse doesn’t like fly spray, huh?” Zara said as she stopped to watch.

Both girls stopped what they were doing and smiled at her. “Hi, Zara,” Kate said. “Yeah, Miles is a wuss about fly spray.”

Marissa nodded, giving the gelding a pat. “Which is weird, ’cause he’s totally bombproof about everything else.”

“That’s horses for you, right?” Kate said with a laugh.

“Guess so,” Zara agreed. She was a little surprised they were being so friendly. Sure, they’d all hung out yesterday. But these girls barely knew her.

Just then Summer appeared, clutching her ratty-looking little brown-and-white dog in her arms. “Zara!” she squealed, rushing over. “OMG, I just saw your dad on TV.”

“Oh?” Zara said.

Summer nodded eagerly, brushing past Kate. “He was talking about that charity concert thing in Tribeca next week,” she said breathlessly. “Are you going? It sounds like it’s going to be sooo fun! Too bad it’s sold out, or I’d definitely go!”

Summer was
definitely
angling for an invite to Zac’s benefit concert. The girl just kept finding new ways to get on Zara’s nerves.

“No, it doesn’t sound fun,” Zara said bluntly. “It sounds like a total drag. I’d rather stab myself in the eye with a hoofpick than go to that thing.”

Summer looked startled. “Really? Um …”

“Gotta go,” Zara said. “I want to check on my horses.”

She made her escape before Summer could protest, then walked over to the aisle where Fitz’s horses lived. His eq horse and his older Appendix were in their stalls, but his big gray jumper was missing. Okay, so he was probably riding. Zara took a few steps in the direction of the indoor, wondering if she should tack up one of her horses and join him, or maybe just hang out and wait for him to finish so the two of them could pick things up where they’d dropped them last night.

She smiled as she thought about the way he’d looked at her after she’d kissed him the first time. Surprised, turned on, and kind of amused all at the same time. Things had only gotten better after that. The guy definitely knew what he was doing.

But the nice feeling faded a little when Zara remembered how he’d backed off so suddenly, even though they could’ve easily hidden behind the stall door until Summer walked by. What was that about? It wasn’t as if she was discouraging him, giving any hint that she wasn’t ready to go as far as he wanted.

A sudden clang broke into her thoughts, and Zara noticed a wheelbarrow sitting in the aisle just ahead. As she watched, another chunk of manure flew out and landed in the wheelbarrow.

Zara hurried over and glanced into the stall. A horse was dozing along one wall as Sean the stall mucker cleaned around it.

“Hey,” Zara called loudly enough for him to hear over his iPod.

He glanced up, and a slow grin spread across his face. “Hey,” he replied, yanking the earbuds out of his ears. “What’s up, Zara?”

“Not much.” She leaned on the partly open stall door. “Having fun in there?”

“Yeah, shoveling shit is a real party.” He slid his gaze down to her cleavage. “But at least the scenery just got a lot better.”

Before Zara could respond, she heard someone calling her name. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Jamie hurrying toward her with a serious look on his face.

“Uh-oh,” she whispered to Sean. “Speaking of shit, I think I might be in some deep stuff.”

She stepped away from the stall, not wanting Sean to get in trouble for talking to her while he was supposed to be working. Especially after the last time Jamie had caught them together.

“What up?” she said when the trainer reached her. He was still in his riding clothes, his helmet tucked under his arm.

“Zara,” he said. “I wanted to talk to you about yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” Her mind flashed immediately to Fitz. Did Jamie have video cameras in the stalls or something? She wouldn’t put it past him.

But he was already saying something about the lesson. “… and I realize you’re still new here, but I can’t have you disrupting things the way you did yesterday,” he said sternly.

Zara had been feeling pretty good since arriving at the barn, Summer aside, but her mood suddenly plummeted. “Well, excuse
me
for having the nerve to fall off,” she said. “I didn’t realize I had to be perfect to freaking ride here.”

“I’m not talking about the fall,” Jamie said. “I’m talking about what happened afterward. Taking that jump was incredibly reckless and irresponsible—what if you or Ellie had been hurt? Not to mention the example it sets for other people. If you were to pull something like that at a show, it would reflect badly on me, your fellow riders—the whole barn. I can’t have that.”