Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
I hadn’t met him yet officially. I’d only seen him from a distance. When Christopher, the best exercise rider they had, left for another job, they didn’t hire anyone right away to take his place. I kind of thought they were waiting for him to return, but after a couple of months, he hadn’t, and someone else had finally been hired to take his place. Sebastian had seemed happy about the new guy when I’d spoken to him at Maeme’s during Sunday brunch. Thatcher had said little about him but that was typical. Unlike his younger brother, he was a harsher critic.
From listening to Miller discuss him, I knew his name was Rog, and he’d retired from races three years ago after a leg injury. I had expected him to be older. When I saw how young he was, I felt bad for him. His career had been cut short. He couldn’t be more than thirty.
“Hello,” I said, smiling with my greeting. “We haven’t met, and I wanted to come out and introduce myself.”
The guy’s grin was instant. “No, we have not. I’d remember a face like yours,” he said, holding out his hand and stepping closer than necessary.
I started to reach out to shake his hand when Miller shouted his name, causing his head to swing around toward the sound. Looking over his shoulder, I saw Miller walking at a faster than usual pace toward us with a stern expression on his face. What had the new guy done to piss him off?
Rog glanced back at me with a shrug and a crooked grin. “Didn’t know he got testy.” He joked.
I didn’t react to his remark because Miller didn’t get angry easily. This was out of character. I just couldn’t think of what Rog could have done to get this reaction out of him.
“ROG!” he shouted his name again, and the jockey’s eyebrows shot up before he turned to face Miller completely as he drew closer. Stalking like he was hell-bent on a mission.
“Yeah?” Rog replied with confusion in his tone.
“I need you in the stables, NOW!” Miller barked at him.
Rog started to look back at me but stopped when Miller shouted his name again. He tensed up.
“I SAID NOW!”
“Uh, okay, yeah, jeez,” he muttered, not saying anything more as he started walking away.
Miller’s glare shifted to me; it softened although there was concern in them, and then he nodded his head before waiting on Rog and following him back to the stables.
That was bizarre. Shaking my head, I looked over at Jim, one of the stable hands, who had Pharoah leading him out of the gate. He gave me a tight smile but immediately dropped his gaze as if looking at me was the last thing he wanted to do.
Was everyone uptight today?
Deciding it was best if I just went back to the lounge room inside to wait on Thatcher, I went in the direction that Miller and Rog had just taken. They were too far ahead that I couldn’t hear them, but my curiosity got the better of me. I could ask Thatcher what he knew, or I could stop being noisy. This wasn’t my business.
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my cell phone and checked my text messages. Staring down at the last one my mother had sent, I reread it but didn’t respond. I wasn’t sure how to. We had tried to find a way to communicate or have a relationship, but as long as my parents were against my relationship with Thatcher, I didn’t see it happening. Her last text hadn’t mentioned him, but it had been an attempt at manipulation.
So many people have asked about you. Worried about me. They can’t understand this rift between us. It would ease many minds if you’d attend a service. Think of how it makes our family look. Your father is looked up to. Respected and his daughter is making everyone question the health of our family unit.
I rolled my eyes. That was my mother, for you. Her only concern was appearance—what others thought. She seemed to think our family was important enough for folks to sit and think about, but I highly doubted this was ever the case.
Not today, Mom. I’ll deal with you another time. Perhaps in a week when I’m not annoyed as much. I slipped my phone back into my pocket and walked inside the stables. Nemesis immediately stuck his head out of the stall and looked my way. He was ready to stretch his legs and run. I could see it in his eyes. I hoped Miller was planning on letting Rog take him out next.
I started to turn toward the lounge when I heard Miller’s voice. Not wanting to eavesdrop, I continued until I heard my name. Why was he talking about me? It took me two seconds to battle with my moral code before I went toward the sound of his voice. It wasn’t wrong if you were the topic of conversation. Right?