Jockeying for You (7 page)

She cringed.
Crazy he’d ask me out when I’m such a mess.
She peered down at her nails and examined the dirt in them.
No wonder he told me to look nice. Yeesh.

Out of the corner of her eye, Mindy appeared. Ryder let out a loud “oh” of surprise.

“Hi ya,” Mindy greeted.

“Good Lord, Mindy. Stop sneaking up on me. You’re going to give me a heart attack.”

“You don’t mind when Lenny does it,” Mindy retorted. “Anyway, I didn’t stop by to give you a heart attack. I came by to give you a present.”

Ryder felt her face light up. “Really? That’s so nice of you. Really great. But it’s not my birthday.”

“Doesn’t matter. Sometimes you need perfect timing for the perfect gift.”

“Perfect timing for what?” Ryder felt her face scrunch up in confusion.

“I saw Mr. Gorgeous leave here. I’m guessing the time you’ll need this will be coming up real soon.”

“What will be soon?” Ryder asked, still confused.

“Take this and you’ll see.” Mindy tossed Ryder a small package wrapped up in colorful giftwrap. A purple bow was tied around it. “Don’t wait too long to open it,” Mindy called out before she disappeared.

“Heck no,” Ryder chirped cheerfully. Tearing the package open, she groaned. “Mindy! You didn’t!” she called out.
No wonder she took off.

Ryder didn’t have much time to contemplate the package before Emanuel approached her. She tossed the box into a stall and prayed he didn’t notice her move.

“I saw you riding Handsome Dancer,” he said without preamble.

Ryder nodded and did her best to smile. There was something about Emanuel’s tone that seemed accusatory although that would make no sense. She waited for him to continue. Maybe he’d shed some clarity.

“He acts like he’s ready to ride,” Emanuel remarked. “I want to test him out in one of tomorrow’s races. I can take a small one, so the stakes won’t be too much and he’ll get used to me.”

“Despite Handsome Dancer’s awesome performance today, he’s still not ready. He was only trying to show off, which is great, but he has to get used to the rigors of competing in an actual race. And doing it against other horses who also want to win. He’s still not comfortable enough in the gate. I’m doing everything I can to even keep his gate card. If he has to go back to school we’ll all be out more time and money.”

Emanuel gave a flat stare. “He won’t ever get used to it until he does it more.”

Ryder crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not shoving him into anything he’s not ready for. I’ll let you know when he’s ready to compete.”

“I’m going to tell Mr. Carter I’m not going to wait around forever. Every race that goes by costs me ten percent of the winnings.”

“Assuming you’d race and win. Which you wouldn’t because Handsome Dancer is not ready yet.” Ryder ignored the throbbing pain by her temple. Once she was rid of Emanuel she’d take some aspirin and a short stroll around the stables to help relax.

But it might be a while before she could take a break, given the reddish tint of Emanuel’s face. His cheeks were puffed up as if he were about to explode. “Are you telling me I cannot win? Are you doubting me?” His voice was high-pitched, his faint accent becoming more pronounced.

She put a hand on her forehead to soothe her throbbing skull. “I’m telling you that you cannot win with Handsome Dancer in his current state. It doesn’t matter how good of a jockey you are. The horse is not ready yet.”

Emanuel started to speak, but she put up a hand to stop him. “I’m not doubting your abilities. I hope you’re not doubting mine.”

He hesitated before grumbling, “This is costing me money.”

“You’ll need to work that out with Jake.”

Once he left she leaned against a cool wood wall. The temperature soothed both her body and temperament.

She closed her eyes and wondered how the morning got so bizarre. Before she met Jake Carter she had a nice steady daily routine. No temperamental jockeys. No gifts from Mindy tossed at her. Even Lenny had been less grouchy. And of course there was now the issue of getting Handsome Dancer up and ready in a reasonable amount of time. He’d need to not only be able to race, but be able to get enough races under his belt before the really big races could be tried.

She felt her eyelids twitch, a supplement to her throbbing temple.
Darn all this stress. Think calming thoughts, Ry. Only calming thoughts.

At least meeting Jake had brought her a horse that she adored working with, and one that could potentially change her career. Her life, really, if Handsome Dancer won something huge like the Belmont Stakes. Imagine what she could do with her share of the winning purse. She’d get more stalls, train more horses, and really start to make an impact in the racing community. Respect. Prestige. Everything she could never get as a jockey herself, she could get as a trainer.

She closed her eyes. A vision of Handsome Dancer on the racetrack appeared before her. She was no longer in the stalls but in the viewing stands surrounded by thousands of fans. People in the crowd periodically screamed or went silent depending on how their horse was doing.

An excited vibe filled the air as the horses neared the turn for the last stretch. A collective hush swept over the crowd. The spectators grabbed their racing forms, sweaty and wrinkled so the print could no longer be read. Thousands of human heads turned in sync as they tracked the horses racing neck-and-neck toward the finish line. Thousands of spectators’ hands went above their eyes to block the sun’s rays from the spectacular view. The jockeys’ colorful silks reflected rays of light.

In her mind, Ryder squinted to make out which horse was Handsome Dancer. Finally, Jake’s horse made its way through the throngs of charging thoroughbreds. Handsome wove in-between bigger horses on the inside, and several stocky contenders on the outside. Yes, it was Handsome Dancer coming around, in clear view for all the world to see. He was going for it, his neck stretched out as his jockey hand-rode him, as they drove themselves forward as if swept by a hurricane. They charged forward like a wind gust and passed the finish line. A full length ahead of the pack.

Moments later, Handsome took his place in the winner’s circle in front of an adoring, screaming crowd. Ryder rushed forward to see him, to touch the horse that changed her world.

And when her eyes looked up at the jockey who won it all, familiar eyes stared back at her. Her own.
What the f—

Ryder, startled by her own daydream, knocked over some tack hung up on a peg next to her on the stable wall.
Oh my God, I still want to ride.

Hastily she picked up the fallen tack and hustled out of the stable to get some coffee and fresh air. And then she did her best to push that daydream out of her mind. Never to be thought of again.

Chapter 7

Ryder tucked a wayward strand of her blond bob behind an ear with more force than necessary. Standing around by herself in a restaurant lobby, no matter how exquisite the restaurant, was awkward to say the least. It never paid to be early. It gave too much time for doubt to creep up. Was she going to be stood up? Even if she wasn’t, her date probably wasn’t too anxious to see her. Ryder unconsciously rubbed an imaginary “L” off her forehead and grimaced.

At least I’m waiting around in one of the best places.
Chez Louis XIV was well known to all but patronized only by those with a very big wallet. And attitude.

Standing around in high heels was no easy feat. Nor easy on the feet. But her preferred dress shoes, ballet flats, simply would not have cut it. This was not a simple, nice night out with her mom or Mindy. This was an honest-to-God legitimate date. Right? At least it would be if he ever showed up. So with that idea in mind she had donned her highest heels, four-inch platform gold and white dress sandals. Unfortunately, the braiding of the gold ropes chafed. But at least her figure would appear willowy thanks to her new height. It wasn’t as if men generally clamored for a woman who stood barely over five feet tall. Even with her platform shoes on, Jake would be roughly a foot taller than her.

Instead of a tall, beautiful princess she had grown up feeling like she was the ugly dwarf.
Can I help it if short genes run in my family? Without it, Dad never would have become a legendary jockey.

Her eyebrows knit together at the memory of the vivid daydream from earlier in the day, the one where she became a jockey again. Her tiny frame sitting tall in the saddle as she rode toward victory.

She frowned and shook the idea out of her head. Nobody, especially a rich businessman like Jake Carter, would want to be on a date with a daydreamer. Spaced out in her own world.
Geez
, even she didn’t want to be around herself when she was like that. She bent down to grab her heavy gold purse off the floor to go kill time in the ladies’ room, but out the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a tall, handsome man. Her full attention immediately turned to the source. Jake Carter gave her a slow, sly smile.

Jake took in the sight of Ryder’s sleeveless dress and smiled. Though the garment was not outright sexy, it showed off the muscular contours on her arms. Her biceps were obviously well developed and very tan. Both effects no doubt created by all her physical work with horses. Yet despite the outfit showing her strength, it showed her femininity, too. The white and gold dress hung around her gracefully like a Grecian tunic that was cinched at the waist. She was a beautiful statue, thin and surprisingly tall. He suppressed a smile when he saw her platform heels peek out from under the long dress.

She’s still so tiny.
In fact, her petite figure was the exact opposite of her large personality. The stark contrast was appealing. But in some ways she was internally consistent.
Strong body, strong mind.

“You look lovely,” Jake murmured.

“Thank you for the compliment,” she answered softly. Her blue eyes were bright and playful. She beamed a smile.

“I hope you weren’t waiting long.” He glanced at his Rolex.

“I have a little bit of a time problem. I always arrive early.”

He shot her a grin. “Like your horses, I hope. I love it when they arrive early, too. First to the finish line.” He noted a small wrinkle spring up between her eyebrows. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to talk shop.”

“It’s okay. Work is hard to shut out, I know.”

“Tonight I’m going to make a concerted effort. I want to talk about you.”

She smiled and blushed as they followed the hostess to their table. The restaurant was crowded as usual. Noisy laughter and chatter filled the air. With Ryder’s soft voice he hoped her words wouldn’t be drowned out. She was the only one he wanted to hear.

“Wine?” he asked when they were seated.

“No, thanks. One of us has to keep our wits.”

He laughed. “I can’t possibly drunk dial you again. Number one, you’re right here. Number two, I’m not indulging tonight.” He picked up her hand and kissed it. “Any more than being with you is already an indulgence.”

“Thanks, but you don’t need to pour it on so thick, you know. This is just a getting-to-know-you kind of thing.”

“I’m not pouring it on. I’m being honest.” He smiled, his fingers stroking hers. “Maybe it’s the same thing.”

“I’m not used to all this,” she said, her gaze downcast. “I’m used to being all business. It takes a lot of time and attention to be a trainer.”

“I’m sure it does,” he answered with sincerity.

“Doubly so being a woman.” She hesitated. “I know we agreed not to talk about work, but can I ask you about Emanuel?”

Given the tone of her voice, I’m sure this isn’t good.
“Sure. Fire away.”

She gave him a timid smile. “I don’t think warfare will be necessary, but I am feeling a tad defensive. He was giving me a hard time at the stables today. He was insisting he ride Handsome Dancer in one of tomorrow’s races, and I don’t feel that’s in the horse’s best interest. Not yet anyway.”

“And you felt like Emanuel was advocating for himself and not the horse? So he can get his cut of more wins?”

“I don’t want to be that harsh in my assessment, but I’m not sure what else to think. Either that, or he thinks I’m a poor assessor of a horse’s abilities and that I’m wasting my time, and his potential earnings, by holding out.” She exhaled hard. “I shouldn’t have demonstrated what Handsome’s capable of on the practice track today. It gave me pride, sure, but now it’s given me grief. First you were upset I was working Handsome too hard. Now I have concerns about Emanuel’s performance.” She twisted her mouth around. “Maybe we’re all going crazy because we’ve never seen a horse like this before. We’re all running around in circles not knowing what to do.”

“Just do what you always do.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “What’s that?”

“Ask the horse.”

She laughed softly.

Good. I’m glad I lightened her mood.
“You are Doctor Doolittle, right? Because I saw the shingle outside your office door,
Dr. Ryder Doolittle, DVM
.”

“Are you saying I should treat Handsome Dancer as a
pushmi-pullyu
?” she deadpanned.

He blinked in confusion. “It’s my joke, so I should catch that line. Alas, my Dr. Doolittle knowledge has reached its end.” Pretending to be sad, he shook his head.

“A pushmi-pullyu was Dr. Doolittle’s llama friend in the 1960’s era film. It had two heads—one faced forward and one faced its tail.”

“I know a bunch of people like that. When they talk, crap comes out of their mouth.”

She burst out laughing. “Hey, you said for me to talk to animals in their own tongue.”

“Handsome Dancer does
not
talk crap.” Jake pretended to stiffen up like he was offended. Then he gave up the ruse when the waiter came to take their orders.

“I agree Handsome is quite sincere in everything he does,” she commented after the waiter left. “Including wanting to please me. I don’t want to take that away from him.”

“Hence your problem with Emanuel,” Jake said more soberly.

“Yes. Any advice you want to give me?” Rose color rushed to her cheeks. “I can handle Emanuel on my own,” she hastened to add. “But it’s usually me who picks the jockeys. Since you chose him, I don’t want to unduly interfere.”

“I’ll talk to him. In the meantime, I can pay you more money to deal with it. And him too so he doesn’t feel cheated.”

“But I—”

“It’s already done.”

“But—”

“Don’t object. It’s not an act of charity on my part. Money motivates people. It’s a natural response. We can all stomach what we don’t want if we’re getting paid well for our effort.” He watched her eyes open wide.

“Really? What did money ever persuade you to do that you didn’t want to do?”

Crap. How’d I get myself into this situation
? “There’s a few things on my list.”

“How’d it turn out?” She sat back in the chair and crossed her arms, waiting expectantly for an answer. “Enlighten me.”

“My father is . . . outspoken on what he wants me to do. Business-wise. And personally.”

She leaned forward in her chair. “Really?” she asked again. “How so?”

He chose the easiest path to follow. “I made some investments because of him. Ones I was reluctant to make. Some worked out well. Others, not so much.”

“Are you answering in the ‘personal’ or ‘professional’ category?”

“Both.” He sat back in his chair and shut up.
The less said the better.

Ryder’s foot tapped rapidly up and down underneath the restaurant table’s white linen cloth. She was glad for the covering so he couldn’t read her body language. “Is this an actual date?” she asked softly.

His brow furrowed. “That’s the general idea, yes. Otherwise, this place is an odd pick for a meal with one of my horse trainers. Last time I took a trainer out to dinner it was with Lou O’Leary. He was fine with the local diner.”

“I would have been fine with that, too. I don’t need anything fancy.”

“Maybe not, but I’ll be damned before I take one of my dates out to a local diner. Especially on a first date. Like this one, to answer your question.”

“Then don’t you think we ought to open up to each other? At least a little? Please?” She forced both feet flat on the floor to stop her nervous twitching. “If we stay superficial our relationship really will be strictly business.” Her voice lowered further until her words were barely audible. “I want to know you more than that.” Her cheeks burned.
I can’t believe I’m putting myself out there. Maybe it’s ‘National Take-A-Risk’ day.

She waited with baited breath while the waiter put down a platter of olives, brie, and baguette in front of them. The delicious smell of garlic and olive oil from their dipping dishes filled the air.

Ryder watched his throat bob in a swallow.
Maybe he’s as afraid as I am to take a risk.

“My father has had a lot of input in my business deals. Too much. He funded a lot of them. Most of them are businesses that he technically owns but I run. He makes sure I follow along his path, and plenty of others are always happy to hop on that bandwagon.” He swallowed again and paused a moment before continuing. “My father’s been hugely successful all his life so there’s a part of me that always felt
who am I to doubt him
?”

She nodded. “I understand what it’s like to live under a father’s spectacular shadow.” Her hands twined together and twisted around. “It was so hard for me to create my own image. Especially as a jockey. And even more as a woman who most people wouldn’t let ride anyway. It’s been easier as a trainer to stake out my own turf. I’ve been fortunate to find some owners who at least trust me enough to do that. Like you. Thanks for believing in me, by the way. I know it’s a leap of faith. As you put it, my methods are effective, but can be viewed as slightly unorthodox.”

“If I didn’t hire you to train Handsome Dancer I’d be sabotaging myself. One good thing I learned from having to emulate my father.” Jake donned a paternalistic voice. “Never screw yourself over, son.” They both laughed. “As far as training goes, I don’t care if you are a woman or even another horse. As long as the job with Handsome Dancer gets done.” He lowered his voice seductively. “Although it definitely helps on the personal level that you’re a woman.”

“Oh. You mean to say you don’t date horses. Good to know,” she teased.

He laughed louder. “People have accused me of being beastly, but never of bestiality. Not my thing.”

She laughed, too, then shuddered. “Thank God for that.”

“I’m sure you’ll find me adequate in other arenas as well.”

“Cocky, aren’t you?” She smiled.

He raised a single eyebrow. “Now that we have the right subject matter, let me know if you care to find out. I’m sure Chez Louis XIV can be persuaded to pack our luscious French food in a doggy bag.”

She glanced over at the formally dressed waiter pouring a bottle of expensive wine for a nearby patron. “I think they’d rather kill themselves than pack anything in a doggie bag.”

“Remember, money talks.”

“I doubt that. Once the chef hears
doggie bag
I’m sure he’ll go permanently deaf from ear trauma. Or come after you with a cleaver for suggesting such a thing.”

He leaned over the table, picked up her hand, and kissed it slowly. Shivers ran through her. More delicious than the expensive cheese in front of them.

“If you’re willing to leave now,” he crooned, “I guarantee you I will pay the chef whatever it takes. I’m begging you to dare me.”

His intense gaze was making her heady. The room became a blur. The only crystal clear image was him. The rest of the world faded away.

With great effort, she pulled herself out of her trance.
This is moving all too fast. I still barely know the man on any level, let alone a personal one. Does he like me for who I am? Or for what I can do for his horse? Or worse, is he simply hoping for a good time with a one-night stand?

“No thanks. I never take up someone’s offer for a dare.” She cleared her throat with a tight cough. “So, what got you interested in owning horses?”

She couldn’t tell if he was amused or disappointed she changed the topic of conversation. But he did seem grateful when the waiter came over to give them their meals. “My father owns quite a few horses. I decided to go off on my own. Make my own investments. Choose my own pick of winners.”