The A Circuit

by Georgina Bloomberg

  “His mouth is moving!” Dani called out. She traded a high five with Marissa.

  “I’m hurt, ladies.” Fitz put a hand to his chest, clearly enjoying every second of the attention. “Truly wounded to the core.”

  “So how long have you all been riding here, anyway?” Zara asked. “I mean, the way you guys are talking, it sounds like most of you have been with Jamie since you were still making wee-wee in your diapers.”

  “Just about,” Marissa said. “I think Fitz and Tommi have been here the longest, right?”

  “Almost ten years,” Fitz confirmed.

  “I started a couple of years after that, and then Dani came,” Marissa went on, stroking Chaucer’s big round head as she talked. “Summer and Kate have been here about two or three years.”

  Summer nodded. “I used to ride at this totally lame barn on Long Island,” she said. “But Jamie’s way better. You’ll love it here, Zara.”

  Zara shrugged. “Well, the pizza’s pretty good,” she said. “But I’m not sure about the trainer yet.”

  “Don’t be too hard on Jamie, Zara,” Kate said with a smile. “He can be tough, but only because he wants us all to be our best.”

  “Hmm.” Zara wasn’t too sure about that. But she had to admit it was kind of sweet to hear the way they all talked about Jamie and the barn. Different. Maybe sort of weird. But sweet.

  Dani wandered off to get another soda, and Zara walked over to join Marissa and Summer. They were talking about some show that was coming up soon.

  “If Jamie makes me do the eq at that one, I’ll probably die,” Marissa moaned. “I get soooo nervous at the bigger shows! Hunters is about all I can handle. At least there I know the judge is looking at the horse, not me.”

  “Don’t worry. If you fall off, I’m sure your boyfriend Javier will be there to pick you up.” Summer smirked as Marissa blushed.

  “Javier?” Zara said. “You mean that groom who, like, never has anything to say?”

  “He’s probably just not totally comfortable speaking English yet,” Marissa said. “He only moved up here from Mexico like three months ago.”

  “Marissa’s taking Spanish in school, so that means they share two languages,” Summer said. “Español, and the language de amor!”

  “Hey, go for it.” Zara shrugged. “He’s not exactly Señor Personality, but he’s cute.”

  Marissa sighed happily. “I know, isn’t he adorable?”

  Zara was distracted by seeing Fitz leave the room. “Yeah. Be back in a bit,” she told the other girls. “I need to make a pit stop.”

  “You know where the bathroom is, right?” Summer asked eagerly. “I can show you if you don’t.”

  Zara shook her head. The girl was such a puppy dog it was pathetic. “Stay put,” she ordered before Summer could get up. “I’ll find it.”

  Slipping out of the tack room, she looked up and down the aisle. No sign of Fitz. She wandered toward the bathroom, figuring he was probably making a pit stop himself.

  While she waited, she found herself looking around the barn, which somehow seemed very different at this time of the evening. It was getting late; the horses had been fed, and most of them were turned out for the night. Jamie had long since disappeared to his house on the hill behind the grass jumping field.

  She could hear an occasional burst of laughter drifting out of the tack room halfway down the aisle, but otherwise the barn had a quiet, peaceful feel to it. Not like her old barn. There had been so many people at the busy, crowded equestrian center that it was never still and empty like this. Sort of like New York City—it was the barn that never slept.

  But this place was different from that one in a lot of ways. Some of them good, some not so hot. Some she wasn’t sure what to think about yet.

  She heard a door swing open and snapped out of her reverie. Glancing down the aisle, she saw Fitz emerge from the bathroom.

  Zara smiled as he looked up and saw her. Okay, this was one way her new barn had it all over her old one. Wetting her lips, she sidled toward him.

  “What do you think, Tommi?”

  Tommi blinked and stared at Marissa, realizing she had no clue what the girl had just said. “Um, what?” she asked. “Sorry, guess I spaced out for a sec.”

  Marissa shrugged. “We were just talking about the Hounds Hollow show,” she said. “Think they’ve improved the footing in the warm-up rings?”

  “Oh. I dunno, probably. A lot of people complained last time.” Tommi couldn’t care less about the footing at the upcoming show. All her focus was still on her talk with her father. Had it been a mistake to propose buying Legs for resale? Could she really pull off something like that?

  Tommi wasn’t the type of person to doubt herself. In fact, she got frustrated with Kate sometimes for being so wishy-washy and insecure about her own abilities.

  But right now, she had an inkling of how Kate must feel when she got like that. Because Tommi had never felt so uncertain about anything in her life. Was she being silly to think she could do horses as a career? Wouldn’t it be easier to go off to some great college like her family expected and just ride on the side? She wasn’t like Callie—she could make it all work if she was devoted enough.

  She realized Marissa was talking to her again. But by now Tommi was too worked up even to fake interest. “Excuse me,” she blurted out. “I just remembered I—I think I left my gloves in the wash stall.”

  Soon she was out in the quiet of the main aisle. She wandered along without any particular destination in mind, wishing that Legs was in so she could go visit him, remind herself what this was all about. But he was turned out in the cool night air along with the rest of the horses.

  Most of the other horses, anyway. Tommi heard a sudden thump from a stall up ahead. That was a little weird. Especially when it was followed by another thump, and then a weird groaning sound. Was a horse in there colicking or something?

  Suddenly worried, Tommi hurried forward. The door to the stall in question was standing open, and she glanced in, expecting to see one of the grooms or maybe the vet in there with the ailing horse.

  But no. There was no horse in the stall at all. Just Fitz and Zara making out like porn stars!

  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 trai
ning 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.