by Remy Rose
“Great looking horse. Hey, big guy.” Josh reaches out to stroke Brownie’s withers and is nuzzled in return.
Ingrid's tone is uncharacteristically pleasant. “Joshua has a very flashy Paint that he's going to be boarding here. And he practices natural horsemanship.”
A cowboy horse whisperer. Impressive. “I've always wanted to learn more about that.”
“I don’t consider myself an expert, but I'd be happy to teach you what I know.”
“Thank you—that would be great.”
“The more I learn, the more I realize I don't know, and the more I want to know. If that makes any sense.” Josh grins. He has a wide smile—and two dimples. “I think I'll always be in awe of horses.”
“I know exactly what you mean. I was actually just thinking that same thing a few minutes ago.”
He seems to look at me more closely, and it makes me blush. I rub Brownie's neck and glance over at Sonya. It’s quite hilarious to watch her trying to fake interest in what Josh is saying, since she’s never been into horses. It’s obvious, though, that Sonya is into Josh.
“Well,” Ingrid says briskly. “I have errands to run, so Sonya, if you wouldn't mind showing Joshua how we do things here, I'd appreciate it. And I'm sure Cassandra will be happy to help any way she can as well.”
“Yes. Of course I will.”
Sonya looks like a kid on Christmas morning. “I'll give him the Windswept grand tour first.”
“Sounds good.” Josh touches the brim of his hat as smiles at me. “Nice meeting you, Cassandra. I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of each other.” The skin around his blue eyes crinkles, and it unexpectedly warms me.
Good God, he’s adorable. I feel a little flutter as I watch him follow Sonya out of the arena. Even though I’m far from wanting to get involved with anyone, it doesn’t hurt to look. And it’s good to remind myself that there are other men in the world besides Carlo.
I’m opening the gate to lead Brownie out when Ingrid addresses me. “Something came for you. It's in the office.”
“Really? What is it?”
“I have no idea. It's a box. I didn't open it.” She pauses, her lips tightening. “Mr. Leone brought it in.”
My heart seizes. “Did he—is he still—”
“He's not here, if that's what you're stuttering about. I'm not sure what’s going on with you two, but don't say I didn't warn you about getting involved with him.”
I bristle. “I'm not involved with him. I'm actually trying to keep my distance, but he's being very...persistent.”
“I don't need to know any more details. Just don’t forget to get whatever it is Mr. Leone left you.”
Ingrid gives me a final, parting frown and walks off into the barn, leaving me alone with a quiet horse and noisy thoughts. So Carlo was here. How long did he stay? Did he sneak in to watch me riding?
And why am I even caring?
It is so goddamned difficult to ignore someone who is being so goddamned present all the time. He doesn’t seem to accept that I want to keep him in my past.
I might as well get it over with and find out what’s in the box before I do any of my chores. I cluck softly to Brownie, leading him down the aisle to the cross-ties to take off his tack. Sonya and Josh have disappeared—most likely outside in the pasture, checking out the horses. Josh has a nice manner about him: steady, calm...the kind of person you’d want around horses. The kind of person you’d want around, period. Is he single? Doubtful. Not that it matters—I’m planning to be on a self-imposed dating hiatus for who knows how long.
Brownie’s pawing the concrete floor, signaling me that I’ve forgotten something. His peppermint. Smiling, I fish in my pocket for one. He munches contentedly as I groom him. He has the beginnings of the softest winter fuzz, his coat just barely raised as I run my hand across it. Solid reminder of the winter ahead.
I unclip the cross-ties and lead him down the aisle to the open barn door, liking the sound of his shoes on the concrete, and walk him out to the pasture. November has done a job on the fields, washing them into pale gold.
Brownie trots off to see his friends. Even though things have been shitty lately, there is still this. And I can still feel lucky for it.
I’m just about to go back to the stable when I’m aware of someone walking up to stand beside me.
“You just looked about nine years old, then.” Josh is grinning.
“Oh! I did?”
“Yeah. The way you were looking at him. You can tell horses were your first crush.”
“It's true.” The wind teases my hair, pulling it across my mouth. “I started off collecting Breyer horses and graduated to the real thing.”
“You ride only English?”
“I've done both, but mostly English, yes. I take it you're Western?”
He touches the brim of his hat, grinning again. “What gave it away?”
There’s something about Josh that makes me feel instantly at ease, which doesn’t usually happen with me and guys.
I smile back. “I took a wild guess. Where's Sonya?”
“She decided she needed a coffee and went to Starbucks, probably for some mocha frappa caramel espresso frothy drizzle thing.”
To recap...hot, adorable, humble, funny. “That's probably not far off. Is she getting you something, at least?”
“Yep. Nothing fancy for me, though—I'm a straight black coffee kind of guy.”
We walk back to the stable together with me racking my brain for something witty to say and coming up empty. Suddenly, I remember the box. I completely forgot about it while I was talking to Josh.
“Hey, I've got to go get something that was left for me in the office. I have my chores to do afterwards, so I'm sure I'll see you.”
“Sounds good. It'll be nice to get to know you better.”
Heart flop.
Josh unzips his jacket and takes a seat on the bench by the cross-ties while I go into the office. There, on Ingrid's desk, is the box from Carlo. It’s medium-sized and generic with the post office logo. I take a deep breath and pull open a desk drawer for a pair of scissors, run one of the blades along the sealing tape and lift the flaps.
Inside are small, elaborately-wrapped gifts covered in thick, silver foil paper and tied with red ribbon. There’s a folded piece of paper on top. I open it to find a typewritten note: To satisfy your cravings.
Uneasiness ripples through me at the possible sexual reference. And because I’m reminded of how I so innocently opened the envelope from Brock, which turned out to shatter me.
For a minute, I consider putting the box in the trash without opening anything, but my curiosity wins out. I lift out one of the wrapped gifts, untie the curled ribbon, and peel back the foil.
It’s a package of Twinkies.
I feel a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. I open another, and another. Ring Dings. Pink Sno Balls. Cool Ranch Doritos. Blueberry Pop-Tarts. Peanut M & M's. The cupcakes I love with the hard chocolate frosting and loopy white icing on top. When I finish unwrapping, I count twenty junk food packages.
I’m feeling a combination of relief mingled with amusement, but I’m fighting that second emotion like hell. You’re not supposed to think a person who hurt you is funny.
Did he do this himself? I’m trying to picture him in the grocery store, picking them out individually...then buying paper and ribbon and wrapping them up. Probably smiling himself as he imagined me opening them.
My stomach growls. I really should just toss all of it, or even send the box back to him—and in doing so, make a statement to both of us that this gesture makes absolutely no difference.
I look into the box, thinking of Carlo's face—his slow, lazy grin and dimple, his piercing blue eyes.
God damn him to hell.
I reach for the package of Pop-Tarts, open it up, and take a bite.
chapter nineteen ~ Carlo
I’ve decided that I have to keep Olivia Malstrom strictly business.
For one reason, that night in the hot tub feels almost like a betrayal, even though Cassandra and I aren’t together. I’ll admit it was a major turn-on and a welcome release, and I could look at it in simple terms as spontaneous, alcohol-induced adult fun. I’ve had one other threesome—in college with my roommate and his girlfriend after we'd gotten drunk, and that became complicated since the girlfriend decided she wanted me. Truthfully, I’ve always preferred sex one-on-one so I can focus my full attention on the woman—take her beyond her sexual comfort zone and give her new experiences. It’s a fucking rush to combine that with getting her to submit.
I don’t need any ramifications this time, and I need to keep the business world separate from my personal life. It’s bordering on unethical for me as a CEO to get involved with a woman who represents one of my suppliers.
After the three of us finished in the Jacuzzi that night, we toweled off, got dressed and had another drink while joking about solidifying business deals. It was surprisingly not awkward. Sam left the hotel suite first, leaving Liv and me alone. She gave me a quick hug, putting her cheek next to mine. “I would have done this sober,” she told me. “I just want you to know that. I totally adore Sam, but next time, I'd rather be alone with you.”
So there was that.
Next time. Liv made her intentions known and put the ball in my court. And I’ve decided I’m not playing, even though Liv does intrigue me. She’s an anomaly, a woman in a man’s world. She learned to use her femininity and sex appeal to her best advantage. It’s evident she likes to call the shots, but she does it in a way so a man doesn’t feel like his masculinity is being compromised.
Still, though...I won’t play.
Then there’s my friend-with-benefits Alexis, who’s asked to see me several times. I feel like a prick to keep saying no since she’s been available for me so many times, and our fuck-buddy arrangement is supposed to be give-and-take. I don’t want to be unfair to Lexi, but again...it always comes back to Cassandra. So I’m basically fucked. Even when I’m not fucking anyone.
All right...Jesus. I need to be done with this for now and stop obsessing over personal shit when I have so much to focus on here at the office. Wayne Senerth has turned out to be a good choice to take over as president for Dall. He’s working hard with engineering to come up with a new product to replace Gatekeeper, and I still need to go through a pile of resumés for someone to take over his former position.
I’m starting to look at the stack of applications when Estelle comes in, carrying a manila folder.
“Here are the sales figures broken down by territory as you requested.”
“What would I do without you?”
“You would probably hire a young, highly-attractive, former college cheerleader with an annoying laugh who types twenty-five words per minute.”
“I'd do no such thing. She'd have to type at least fifty.”
“It's heartening to hear that you have standards.”
“I'd never be able to replace you.”
“No, you wouldn't.” Her lips twitch. “I've been working some on Gianna's wedding plans. I still can't believe our little girl is getting married in just under six months.”
“You and me both. She's too young, Estelle.”
“Only in her big brother's mind. She's ready. She knows Jordan is the one.”
Estelle is looking at me intently. I know the woman is thinking of saying something I don’t want to hear, so I get busy flipping through the resumés on my desk and change the subject. “So you and Martin are spending Thanksgiving together.”
“Yes...we're going to his sister's in Reading.”
“Nice. Already in with the family. Next thing I know, you'll be walking down the aisle.”
“That's a bit premature.”
“But not out of the question.”
She rolls her eyes and sighs in exasperation, making me grin.
“We still would love to have you join us, Carlo. Do you have any plans?”
“I'm probably going to spend the day with Gianna and Jordan.”
“Please don't do that.”
“What? Spend the day with my sister and her fiancé?”
“Lie. I can always tell when you do it. You make this barely audible sniff right after you say an untruth. You don't need to lie to me, Carlo. You're a big boy, and if you choose to spend the holiday alone, you can do that.”
I should know better than to try and put anything past her. “Okay. I'm choosing to spend the holiday alone.”
“May I ask if there's any progress with Cassandra?”
“Yes, you may, but there hasn't been. It's not for lack of trying, though.”
“Good. It will take time. I know it feels like it's been ages, but it really hasn't been that long. Keep at it.”
“I plan to.”
“I'm glad. Oh—” Estelle frowns. “I almost forgot. Olivia Malstrom called while you were in the meeting with Wayne. I put the phone message in the folder.”
I nod, picking up a pen and twirling it with my fingers like this isn’t at all an issue. So Liv called. This is the first contact since that night.
“She has quite a reputation of being a real go-getter. And I hear she's very attractive.”
“I met her at the trade show. Didn't really get a chance to spend much time with her, though.” I sniff. Damn.
Estelle raises an eyebrow. “Some might think it's not my place to say anything here, but as someone who loves you very much, I believe it is most certainly my place. Please don't let Olivia, or any woman, distract you from your ultimate goal, Carlo.”
“I appreciate your caring, Estelle. I really do.”
“I won't bring it up again, but if you change your mind about Thanksgiving, even the day of...let me know.”
“I will definitely keep that in mind.”
I watch her leave. I know her invitation is sincere. And I also know I won’t accept it. Maybe someday, the holidays will hold something else besides dread for me, but for the past three years, I’ve slept and drank my way through them.
The last good Thanksgiving was four years ago, because all the people I loved most were still here. I’d picked up Gianna at Villanova the day before the holiday. The entire ride home, I had to listen to her talk about the guy she'd just met. Don't you have anything else you want to discuss, Gi? I had teased. Like classes, your professors, the Middle East?
Nope, she had replied, her dark eyes shining. Just Jordan.
I’d shaken my head and chuckled, but I was glad for her—that she had found someone who had so totally captivated her.
The way I’d been captivated by the one I loved.
That Thanksgiving, my mother had made her traditional sweet potato casserole with pecans and marshmallows, Scott prepared his homemade gravy and carved the turkey, and the highlight of the day was when Gi had tripped over the threshold into the dining room and landed on the strawberry-rhubarb pie she was carrying. Everything, even the ruined pie, was as it should have been. The sounds of warm laughter, the treble and bass of voices and the warm smells in that kitchen had all lulled me into what turned out to be a false sense of security.
If I had known that was going to be the last Thanksgiving I’d spend with them, I would have paid closer attention.
Cherish your memories, people told me, after each loss. They no doubt meant well, and what else would they have said, other than words you'd find inside sympathy cards? Not to mention I didn't even know what I needed to hear.
Losing them had sliced deep grooves in me, and after a little time, when the shock and numbness wore off, pain rushed in to fill those grooves.
The first loss cut me the most deeply.
Just this one time, Carlo, she had said. It will be my last ride for a while.
For a while had turned into forever.
Forever without her was an interminable, searing ache. Until Cassandra. In her face and in her eyes, I saw hope: for the two of us, and for me.
That was before she
learned I betrayed her. And I did—no matter the reason, no matter how much my past has fucked me up. I betrayed her. I’ll keep trying to make it right, but now...I might have to face the fact that it’s going to be forever without Cassandra, as well.
I look down at the folder Estelle left for me, remembering the phone message from Liv. Not looking forward to calling her back, but I’ll keep things courteous, professional. Wish her a happy Thanksgiving.
What will Cassandra be doing for the holiday? I know she misses her mother, and she insinuated that she and her father didn’t have a relationship, so she’s basically parent-less, like I am. Ironic that we can have so much in common but aren’t able to share any of it.
Christ, I need to stop fucking brooding. I have sales figures and applications to look over—real things that need my attention and that don’t involve any twisting of my gut. I’ll have to step up my workout regimen. It saved me before. I’ll stop at the gym on the way home and push myself. The physical always helps with the emotional: strong body, clear mind, calm heart. Unfortunately, the physical right now won’t include sex, and with my libido, that fucking sucks. If there’s one area where I’m weak, it’s that one. Olivia is incredibly tempting, but I’ll try like hell to keep her at bay.
I pick up the phone to call her. Courteous and professional starts now.
chapter twenty ~ Cassandra
It makes more sense for me to do the online class thing, given the cost of gas and the length of the commute to Wilson College. And let's be honest; a big draw of online classes is to eliminate the fear factor of starting over again in a new place where I don’t know a soul. So I’m registering for a class next semester...Business 101, a requirement for the equine studies program, and even though I’m nervous just doing that, the feeling of pride is more than worth it.
I need to meet with an advisor so I can map out my other courses. Plus, if I check in with this person from time to time, I can get a feel for the campus and ease into it...hopefully feel more confident about becoming part of the whole college scene again.
Source of pride #2: driving to Nocturnem tonight to meet Teal and friends in my ongoing quest to expand my social life. Teal's boyfriend's band was playing, and even though I’m not really into blues, Garrett can definitely sing, and Nocturnem has a cool, funky atmosphere that makes you feel like you’re in a bar on Bourbon Street instead of in some old converted building in downtown Manheim.
