The A Circuit 04- Rein It In (7 page)

“Looks like everyone’s still wondering which of you ladies is Zac’s jailbait, huh?” Fitz’s tone was light, but Zara was pretty sure she actually saw a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “Some people really need to get a life.”

“You’re telling me,” Zara muttered.

Summer finally glanced up from her own fingernails. “You can’t blame people for being curious about something like that,” she said. “I mean, for a second
I
even wondered when I first read that post.” When Zara glared at her, she opened her pale blue eyes wide. “What? It’s not like it couldn’t be true.”

“It’s not,” Zara told her through gritted teeth. “Trust me.”

“Oh, I totally believe you,” Summer assured her, suddenly sounding more like her usual suck-up self. “I’m just saying, I
can sort of understand why other people might believe something like that.”

“Whatever.” Zara tightened the bridle’s noseband a little too abruptly, causing Marissa’s placid hunter to lift his head in surprise. Giving the horse a pat by way of apology, Zara glanced around at the others. “Anyway, I’m definitely over it.”

“How do you think Joy feels?” Fitz grinned. “Everyone thinks she’s either scamming her boss or has, like, an inoperable brain tumor.”

“I know, right?” Marissa fastened her helmet strap. “It’s a good thing Joy never gets on the Internet unless she absolutely has to. She probably doesn’t even know about all the rumors.”

“Whatever,” Zara said again. “I just wish
I
didn’t know about that blog. I’m sick of everyone at the stupid show asking me about it.”

Marissa looked sympathetic. “Don’t worry. All you have to do is wait for the next superjuicy rumor to come along, and everyone will forget about your dad.”

“What if I don’t want to wait that long?” Zara was feeling more irritable by the second. “Maybe I should do something about it
now
.”

“Like what?” Fitz raised an eyebrow. “Track down the blogger and pull his hair out? Or her hair—you know, whichever.” He shrugged. “Anyway, good luck with that. I mean, if nobody’s figured out who’s writing that blog by now, I’m not sure we’re ever going to know.”

That gave Zara an idea. So far, the blogger pretty much had the entire A circuit at his or her mercy. That needed to
change, and if nobody else was going to make it happen, it seemed to be up to Zara. “Don’t count on it,” she told Fitz. “Because that’s
exactly
what I’m going to do.”

“Pull the blogger’s hair out?” Summer sounded alarmed.

“Maybe.” Zara shot her a wicked grin. “But first, I’m going to figure out who’s behind that freaking blog and out them to the world!”

Tommi wasn’t paying much attention to the conversation going on around her. She was focused on the coming class. Her hunter, Toccata, was a rock star over jumps, and he definitely had the movement to do well in the hack, too. But sometimes it was a challenge to keep him focused in a ring full of other horses. Tommi only hoped she was up to that challenge this time. They’d done well enough over fences that she was fairly confident that there would be a champion or reserve champion in it for them if they placed anywhere in the top six in the under saddle.

“We’d better get a move on,” she said, pulling on her gloves. “I want to make sure Toccata gets to take a look around before the class starts.”

“I’m ready.” Marissa let out a nervous giggle. “Here goes nothing!”

“Don’t worry, Miles will take care of you.” Fitz gave Marissa’s horse a fond slap on the neck. “Now get out there and kick some butt, you two!”

Soon Tommi and Marissa were mounted and walking their horses toward the gate of the outdoor ring where the class was
being held. The day was overcast but warm, and the horses seemed happy to be outside. “Hold up,” Kate said, hurrying over to wipe Tommi’s boots.

“Thanks.” Tommi flashed her a smile, grateful as always for her friend’s attention to detail. Then she reached forward and gave Toccata a stroke on the neck. “Let’s go get ’em, baby.”

She rode into the ring, automatically guiding Toccata to an open spot on the rail while scanning the competition. Most of the riders’ faces were familiar from seeing them in the division all year, though there were also quite a few from other parts of the country who only came east for the big shows. Tommi’s gaze caught on one particular member of the latter group. It was Scott, the guy she’d noticed in the eq last weekend.

Interesting. She hadn’t seen all of yesterday’s jumping trips and hadn’t realized he was in this division. Her gaze lingered on him as he sent his horse, a big, elegant chestnut with a crooked blaze and four high whites, into a gorgeous daisy-cutting trot. Nice.

Then Tommi heard hoofbeats coming up fast behind her. She glanced back just in time to steer Toccata to the inside and avoid a fast-moving gray with a wild look in its eyes and a nervous girl in the tack.

“Sorry!” the rider on the gray called in a shaky voice as she thundered past.

Tommi took a deep breath and half-halted, making sure Toccata was still with her. That had been close, and Tommi knew she’d better not let herself get distracted again. Toccata was way too easily rattled for her to lose focus just because a cute guy went trotting past.

The PA system clicked on, causing Toccata to spurt forward. “Walk, please, all walk,” the announcer said.

“Here we go,” Tommi whispered, glancing around to make sure she was in a clear spot where the judge could see Toccata’s beautiful gait.

From that point on, her famous focus took over—mostly. Once or twice, Tommi couldn’t resist seeking out Scott Papadakis to see how he was doing. His horse was just as fancy as she’d thought, and Scott was skilled enough to show off his mount to his very best advantage. If the pair had done anywhere near as well over fences, Tommi knew they’d give her and Toccata some competition for those championship ribbons.

At the end of the class, Tommi found herself next to Scott in the lineup. He gave his horse a pat, then smiled over at her. “You’re Tommi Aaronson, right?” he said. “You were looking good out there.”

“Thanks. You too.” Tommi returned his smile. “Nice horse.”

Before Scott could respond, the announcer started reading off the placings. Marissa finished out of the ribbons, but Tommi pinned third and Scott first.

In the end, Scott was champion, while Tommi had to settle for reserve.

“Congrats,” she told him when they had finished the award presentation. “Guess you must have laid down some impressive trips yesterday. Sorry I missed them.”

“Me too.” He grinned at her. “I caught yours, though. I like to keep up with the competition.”

“And?” Tommi cocked her head and raised an eyebrow.

He smiled, his dark eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. “Not bad. Not as good as me, but not bad.”

“Oh yeah?” Tommi grinned. Competitive,
and
with a sense of humor? Yes, please. “We’ll have to see if you can back that up at Harrisburg.” She smirked. “
If
you managed to qualify, that is.”

“Oh, we’ll be there.” Scott leaned forward and patted his horse, still grinning. “And we’re definitely up for a rematch.”

By then Jamie was heading toward Tommi, along with Miguel, who was holding Toccata’s cooler.

“Nice,” Jamie said, grabbing Toccata’s bridle as the sensitive horse starting jigging in reaction to the crowd outside the ring. “You kept him settled and showed him at his best. No complaints from me. This judge always uses the best trot, and I guess she thought the red horse’s trot was a little better.”

“Yeah. It’s cool, win some lose some.” Tommi gave Toccata a pat, then unhooked her helmet. She hated losing and was the first to beat herself up when she screwed up a class, but she really did feel good about this one. She’d been showing long enough to know that Jamie was right—sometimes the judge just liked another horse better, even when yours was at his best. That was showing.

As Jamie turned away to talk to Marissa, Tommi’s gaze slid toward Scott. He’d dismounted nearby and was discussing his performance with his trainer, a wiry older woman Tommi vaguely recognized.

Tommi dismounted and ran up her stirrups. “I’ll take him for you.” Miguel stepped forward to grab the horse’s reins and hand Tommi her cell phone, which he’d held during the class.

“Thanks, Miguel.” Tommi gave Toccata a scratch on the crest. Now that their division was over, it didn’t matter if she messed up his braids—Miguel would be taking them out in a
few minutes—so she dug her fingers in the way the horse liked. He lifted his head, his lower lip flapping with pleasure.

Then, as Miguel led Toccata away through the crowded gate area, Tommi looked around for her friends. Marissa was still talking to Jamie nearby, but Tommi didn’t see the others. She did spot someone else, though. Scott was wandering toward her, his Samshield still perched on his head with the strap undone and his jacket unbuttoned. His show gloves were peeking out of the pocket of his breeches.

“Hey,” he greeted her. “So I’m Scott, by the way.”

Tommi didn’t bother to tell him she already knew that. “Nice to meet you, Scott. So how come I haven’t seen you at the shows before?” she asked, leaning against the ring fence.

“First time here. I’m an Indoors virgin.” Scott grinned. “See, my dad has all these crazy rules of life that he forces me to live by. One of them is that anything worth doing is worth working for, which he somehow interpreted as meaning I couldn’t come east for the big shows until I had straight As for at least a year.”

“So I take it you hit the books?”

“Absolutely.” Scott pulled off his helmet and tucked it under his arm, shooting Tommi a sidelong look as he ran a hand through his dark hair. “I
always
get what I want in the end. Crazy dad or not.”

“That’s funny—so do I.” Tommi’s mind flashed to her business plans. “Your dad sounds a lot like my dad, actually.”

Scott shrugged. “They probably know each other. Mine’s CEO of MacroNet. He’s always dealing with Wall Street guys like your dad.”

Okay, now Tommi knew why Scott’s last name had seemed vaguely familiar. MacroNet was one of the most successful companies in Silicon Valley, which meant Scott’s father probably had almost as much money as Tommi’s did.

That didn’t impress her much. And her family name didn’t seem to impress Scott much, either, which Tommi actually found kind of a turn-on. So many guys got all weird as soon as they realized Tommi was one of
those
Aaronsons, part of the family that owned half of New York. It got old.

“Do you have your phone on you?” Scott asked.

Tommi reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell. She’d switched it off during the class, but now she turned it back on.

Then she held it up. “Why?”

Scott plucked it out of her hand. “I’m sending myself a text,” he said as his thumbs tapped out a message. “That way you’ll have my number, and I’ll have yours.”

“Very efficient.” Tommi held back a smile. Okay, yes, this guy was seriously intriguing. That didn’t mean she had to let him know it. “So what are you expecting us to do with each other’s numbers?”

Scott handed her the phone, his hand brushing hers and lingering for a moment. “Well, I was thinking …,” he began.

“Tommi!” Fitz burst out of the crowd and made a beeline toward her. “Hey, there you are. I was afraid you’d already left.”

Scott quickly pulled his hand away and stepped back. Tommi turned to face Fitz, who seemed totally clueless that he might have interrupted something. “What is it?” she asked, trying not to sound impatient or flustered.

“I’ve got some news,” Fitz said. “I was just talking to this girl I know from Kara Parodi’s barn.”

“Don’t you know
all
the girls from Kara Parodi’s barn?” Tommi cut in. “And every other barn, too?”

Fitz put a hand over his heart. “You wound me, Aaronson. You know I’m not like that anymore.”

“If you say so.” Tommi glanced at Scott. Or the spot where Scott had been standing, anyway. Tommi frowned slightly as she realized he’d slipped away. Oh well. “What’s the big news?” she asked Fitz.

“Anna says Kara has a horse for sale,” Fitz said. “Green, but with tons of potential. She’s got a full barn already, so she’s willing to let it go for an awesome price. Thought you might want to check it out.”

“Thanks for the tip.” Tommi smiled at him. “I’ll definitely check it out.”

She felt a shiver run through her. Could this be fate, or some kind of sign? Tommi didn’t usually believe in that stuff, but she had to wonder. Legs’s new owner kept him at Kara Parodi’s supersuccessful northern New Jersey show barn. What if Tommi’s next prospect came from that very same barn?

Her phone buzzed in her hand, pulling her back to reality. Tommi glanced at the screen.

“That’s not Kate, is it?” Fitz asked. “I’m supposed to be meeting her in the tack stall right now.”

“No, it’s not Kate.” Tommi kept her voice calm, not wanting to invite any questions or teasing from Fitz.

But as soon as Fitz loped off, a smile spread across Tommi’s face. Scott wanted to hang out that evening after the show. So this guy didn’t waste time; another turn-on. Tommi only
hesitated for a second before texting him back, suggesting they meet up in the lobby of her hotel.