Winter Circuit (The Show Circuit -- Book 2)

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Winter Circuit (The Show Circuit -- Book 2) Page 19

by Kim Ablon Whitney


  “I think she’s just waiting for the right moment. Plotting and planning.”

  Actually, while I wouldn’t say Dakota liked me now, she had spoken to me once or twice out of her own free will. And she’d actually asked me to help her pick out clothes to wear when the photographer from The Book came to take candids of her with her horses. We had to get the horses looking as gorgeous as if they were going in the ring, only they didn’t need to be braided. The photographer spent an hour doing a shoot worthy of a glossy fashion magazine. He was paid a hefty sum to follow Dakota at several shows throughout the year and then at the end of the year assemble a gorgeous coffee table book of her year of riding, including the candids. It was the super upscale version of a yearbook except it featured only one person, not an entire school, and only the wealthiest of riders could afford it.

  I guess I could go back with them after circuit and continue to work for them. I liked Linda and the horses. But they didn’t do all the same shows as Chris so it wouldn’t be like I’d be getting to see him often. New York was a lot closer to Pennsylvania than Boston, though.

  Dakota had so many horses that she never had to take a week off from showing. Linda and I plotted out which horses she’d do each week. Some weeks we just flatted and trail rode certain horses.

  At the end of week 9, Dakota and her friends begged to go see WEF’s Got Talent. I was a little tired and didn’t want to go to another social event, even though this one did sound like fun. But Dakota said her parents told her it was okay to get the tickets and just to charge them to their credit card and that she had to go since all her friends were going. Of course they told her to charge it to their card—they were expert at throwing money at her. But they hadn’t made an appearance all circuit and it didn’t look like they would be as time was running out. I remembered how I’d been worried about sharing a house with the Pearces—I could laugh about that now.

  I tried to get Chris to come with us to WEF’s Got Talent but he didn’t want to. Dakota got all dressed up. I just threw on jeans and a cute shirt. Despite not being very enthused about going, I actually ended up having a pretty fun time. Auditions had been held throughout the season and the top people from each audition competed in the final. There was a lot of talent. Most of the acts competing were solo singers. There was also one group of three young women, who called themselves the Jumping Janes. There was a dressage rider who did ballroom dancing and a ring crew guy who did a whole Michael Jackson dance impersonation. There was also a stand-up comedian who riffed on all things riding. Of course there was also the obligatory auction, although this one was live and included some pretty cool items including a package to go watch the Pan American Games.

  I texted Chris a few times throughout the night updating him on what act I thought should win. At one point he wrote back: Just had very interesting phone call.

  With whom? About what?

  Jürgen. There’s a horse that a British owner is selling. I’ve seen it go. It’s a legit 5-star horse.

  I couldn’t imagine how said horse would ever be in Chris’s price range. Price tag?

  1M.

  Isn’t that low?

  It took a while for Chris’s response. I kept looking at the three dots on my phone indicating that he was typing. Then came his long reply: Very. They don’t want to sell it to anyone in GB or Europe. They want it sold to someone in U.S. The owner had a fight with chef of GB team and to spite him wants it sold to American, even if it means losing $$ on the horse. It’s also not an easy ride.

  Wow. Sounds promising.

  Dakota, Taylor, and Addie had gone off to the bathroom, or so they said. It seemed like they’d been gone a while and I worried that they were scoring drinks again. I searched the room for them. The last act was about to go on and then the winner would be announced.

  Chris’s next text came in: I think I can ride it.

  So you just need the $$$.

  Just need 250.

  Just…

  I looked up and saw Dakota on her way over to me, alone. “Can I sleep over at Taylor’s?”

  “Where is she?”

  “She’s already outside the tent. She’s waiting for me. I’d said I’d ask you and then hustle out to her.”

  “Why’s she in such a rush? You don’t want to watch the end? See who wins?”

  “Nah,” she said. “So can I? You know my mom and dad would say yes.”

  “But they’re not here and I’m in charge.” Something in this whole thing sounded kind of fishy.

  “Please?” Dakota said. “You can go over to Chris’s.”

  Damn. That girl knew how to get me to say yes. I could go over to Chris’s and watch videos of the horse and plot with him about how to come up with the 250K. There weren’t all that many chances left for us to spend the night together.

  Dakota gave me a quick hug, which seemed like overkill for just letting her sleep over at Taylor’s, but the fact that she was offering me any kind of warmth totally made me melt. Maybe she was finally coming around to liking me. It had taken longer than I’d thought at first but maybe this was what I’d been waiting for all along.

  “Have fun,” I said. “But don’t stay up too late.”

  “I won’t!” she called back as she made her way to the front of the tent. I texted Chris to say Dakota was sleeping over at Taylor’s and so I could come over and headed to the exit myself. Behind me the last act was introduced to the remaining enthusiastic crowd. My phone buzzed. Cu soon, Chris had written back.

  I emerged from the tent and out of the corner of my eye I thought I glimpsed Dakota’s long hair. But the head it was attached to belonged to a girl holding hands with a guy. All these girls had the same long, flowing locks, I told myself. They all looked alike, especially in the dim light of the tent. Dakota would have already been long gone with Taylor.

  I speed-walked to my car, wanting to get to Chris’s as soon as possible. I wondered who else he had told about the horse. Probably Dale. I wanted to be in on the ground level, one of the first to be there with him while he brainstormed how to somehow get this horse. Then later on, I could say, oh, yeah, remember when you got the call from Jürgen and we stayed up all night trying to figure out how to make it happen? This could become one of those big relationship moments that Chris and I could look back on, like the moments that he had shared with Mary Beth. This one could be all ours.

  “This is so exciting!” I gushed to Chris when I got to his place.

  “I know. I’m trying not to get ahead of myself but if I could somehow get this horse… You can’t get horses with this amount of talent for a million.”

  “You really think you can ride it? I mean, of course you can. Can I see some video?”

  We huddled around his laptop and he showed me the horse competing at a European show. His name was Athelstane and it was a big, powerful chestnut gelding. Chris said the hardest part was keeping the horse together. He had a huge stride and could get strung-out.

  I knew if Chris could get Athelstane he could go far. But somehow I got a dead feeling in my gut as I watched. I had the terrible sense that he’d go far with this horse, but without me.

  “Mary Beth saw the horse go at Aachen and she said he has all the scope in the world.”

  “Wait, you talked to Mary Beth about him?”

  So much for being in on the ground level. So much for this being our thing. MB had apparently gotten there before me.

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “When? Did you call her, or did she call you?”

  “What does it matter? This is about the horse. This doesn’t need to be some big drama about her again.”

  I hated the word drama. No girl wanted to be associated with the word drama. This moment was turning bad and I needed to make things okay again so this could still be ours. Our exciting time together before we somehow cobbled the money together to buy Athelstane.

  Chris’s phone rang. “It’s Jürgen,” he said.

  “Take it,” I told
him.

  “Of course I’m taking it,” he snapped.

  He stood up and moved away from me, like he needed the distance. I felt my body heating up with anger and shame at how this night was developing. My own phone buzzed. A text coming in. It was from Mike and it was a photo of what looked like a girl at a bar. The image was grainy and I had to zoom in. Was that Dakota with a drink in her hand?

  Another text came rapidly. She’s at JoJo’s.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said out loud. “That little—”

  Chris motioned for me to be quiet as he talked to Jürgen. I heard him say, “What’s the timetable?”

  I glanced at the photo again. I couldn’t believe her. She and Taylor had flat-out lied to my face. She had used the idea of Chris to manipulate me and worst of all, had hugged me, making me think she actually liked me when all she wanted was to fool me.

  “I need to go,” I told Chris.

  He waved me away again. I grabbed my purse and stomped out. I drove over to JoJo’s, getting more steamed with each passing minute. I went back and forth in my head about who I was most mad at—Chris or Dakota.

  I strode into the bar feeling like a cop on a TV show. Or maybe like a mom or dad on a family sitcom. I would confront Dakota, tell her I was very disappointed in her, and drag her home. She’d sob in the car and beg for my forgiveness. Maybe I’d be kind and tell her I wouldn’t say anything to her parents and then she’d owe me big-time and realize once and for all what a cool person I was and how lucky she was that I was working for her family. She’d be indebted to me for the rest of the circuit and be unendingly nice to me.

  I saw Mike right away but I didn’t see Dakota. He was at a table with an attractive assistant trainer I recognized from the show. Good for him, I thought.

  The place was pretty full. There was an Irish contingent by the bar, talking loudly in their brogue accents and laughing uproariously.

  I scanned the room with angry eyes for Dakota and still couldn’t find her. I went over to Mike. “Oh my God,” I said. “You’re a lifesaver for texting me. Do you know what that girl did? She said she was sleeping over at Taylor’s house. Where are those girls? How did they even get in here? They’re thirteen!”

  “She wasn’t here with Taylor,” he said.

  “What?”

  “She was with a bunch of guys.”

  “Guys?” My mind flashed to the girl I had seen with hair like Dakota’s. I started to feel more worried than angry.

  “I didn’t see Taylor.”

  “Shit. Well, whatever, where is she?”

  “She went to the bathroom, then I kind of lost track of her. I’m sorry.” Mike gave me a look that said he was a little preoccupied. “This is Sarah, by the way.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I told her, casing the room again out of the corner of my eye.

  I was starting to feel frantic. My thirteen-year-old charge was out with some guys at a bar and now she was gone. Her parents would kill me if they found out. I would kill Dakota first, when I found her.

  “I’m going to go check the bathroom,” I told Mike.

  I charged into the bathroom, expecting to find her in there but the stalls were empty. One girl was fixing her eye-makeup at the mirror. I asked her if she’d seen a young girl with blond hair. She said she hadn’t.

  My heart beating too fast, I went back into the bar. My face felt flushed. I never should have let her out of my sight. This is exactly what Audrina had warned me about. I should have known Dakota might pull something like this. She probably went home with some guy and was about to have sex with him. She thought she was ready for that, but was she really? She had to be a virgin, right? Somehow it had never occurred to me until now. Dakota couldn’t have had sex already? I mean, some thirteen-year-olds had sex. I’d never thought Dakota would be one of them, for all her snark and obnoxiousness.

  I asked the Irish guys if they had seen her. They said they thought she’d been here but had left. “I think they were going to Players,” one of them said. “We’re too low class over here for those types!”

  They burst out in laughter again. Players. Well, it would be better than back at some guy’s house. I just prayed they were right and she was really at Players. I told Mike I was going over to Players and to please text me if he saw Dakota again.

  “Do you need help?” he asked.

  I desperately wanted to say yes, but Mike had bailed me out so many times before and from what it looked like his date was going well. “No, I’m okay.” Over my shoulder I called back to them, “Mike’s a great guy!”

  On the way over to Players I called Taylor. I’d gotten her number since the golf cart incident. She picked up, sounding half-asleep. “Do you know where Dakota is?”

  “No,” she said, like it was automatic and planned.

  “Don’t lie to me,” I said. “Did you know she said she was sleeping over at your house?”

  There was silence. “I’m telling you, you better be honest, or you’re going to be in a world of hurt.” I had no idea where these kinds of threats were coming from. I didn’t know I had it in me, but I was desperate. I was worried for my job, but more than that I was worried for Dakota. It was like some kind of big sister or mamma bear instinct had been unleashed inside of me.

  “Yeah, I knew she was saying she was sleeping over.”

  “But where was she really going?”

  “Out to JoJo’s with McNair and Demetrio.”

  “Well, I just came from JoJo’s and she wasn’t there. Have you heard from her?”

  “No, I swear, I haven’t. I’m telling the truth. I haven’t heard anything from her since I left the tent.”

  I told Taylor to call me if she heard anything and to call Addie too and see if somehow she had heard anything about what was going on. No texts had come in from Chris—it wouldn’t have killed him to find out why I’d hurried off.

  I was still a few blocks from Players when the car started making a horrible noise. I had no idea what was wrong with it. I stared at the dashboard, hoping a warning light would pop on and tell me what the heck was wrong. It sounded like a grinding noise and the car started shaking, like when you drive too fast over a rumble strip on the highway. I slowed down to only a few miles per hour and the sound lessened but didn’t fully go away. I pulled over and got out of the car to find that one of the front tires had blown. Seriously? This was happening now?

  I was only a few blocks from Players, though, so I grabbed my purse, locked the car, and left it there on the side of the road. I’d call AAA later.

  The atmosphere at Players was more subdued. No pack of uproarious Irish guys. More couples enjoying a night out and a cocktail. The European scene wouldn’t be in full force till Sunday. Still, no Dakota. My face burned again and I felt like I was having bad heartburn. If she wasn’t here, she could be anywhere in the town of Wellington. How could I ever find her?

  Chapter 27

  I tried to slow down my breathing. Okay, maybe Dakota knew exactly what she was doing. She was a sophisticated kid. Maybe she would be out all night and have sex and be just fine. I could go back to Chris’s and let her fend for herself. Tomorrow she’d reappear and I could act like nothing had happened. She would know that I knew from Taylor telling her and it would be like this secret knowledge I would have that would shift the power dynamic between us. Or I could calmly tell her that I knew she lied to me and didn’t sleep over at Taylor’s and never to do that again or else I’d tell her parents.

  I sat down to think it all over. That’s when I saw McNair Sutter come out of the bathroom and pull up a stool at the bar. I jumped up and nearly accosted him.

  “Where is she?”

  “Who?”

  “Dakota! Didn’t you bring her here?”

  “Whoa, calm down.”

  It is a proven fact that when someone is not calm the worst thing you can say to them is, “Calm down.” I wanted to punch McNair, sitting there in his expensive, button-down shirt tha
t was maybe blue, maybe purple. His hair expertly styled to look not-perfectly-styled. Most people probably never felt such hatred toward him. Most people probably only felt lust because he was devastatingly good-looking.

  “Where the fuck is she? Tell me now!”

  “She left.”

  “With whom?”

  “With whom? Do you always have perfect grammar?” he said coyly.

  “With whom, with who, whatever. Where is she?”

  He twirled the straw in his cocktail. “So, Chris Kern, huh? How did that happen?”

  “I want to know where she is. That’s all I want to know from you.”

  “It’s just that Chris is kind of serious, kind of driven. You’re pretty but you don’t really fit into his ten-year plan.”

  “What ten-year plan?” I said, letting him pull me off track.

  “Oh, I’m sure he has one. You don’t seem like you’re conducive to his plan.”

  McNair was driving me crazy but I couldn’t ignore that the things he was talking about were things I was interested in. “How do you know Chris so well?”

  “We used to hang out.”

  I found that hard to believe. Chris and McNair seemed like different species and I knew Chris didn’t like him. I waved my hand like I was shooing a bug and refocused on why I was talking to him in the first place. “Whatever. All I care about is Dakota.”

  “Seems like you care about more than Dakota.”

  “Just tell me who she left with,” I said impatiently. Please let it be a girl, I thought. Please let someone with half a mind have taken her home.

  “She met a nice polo player and he took her home.”

  “Nice polo player? Isn’t that an oxymoron?”

  “There we go with the impressive language skills again, Ms. English Major. And aren’t we being quite judgy?”

  “Did he take her to his home, or her home?”

  “His, of course. You’re not that naïve, are you?”

  “She’s thirteen. You know that, right? Where does he live?”

  “I think somewhere over in Greenview Shores but I’ve never been to his house.”

  “Well, who has?”

 

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