The Dating Series

by L. P. Dover

  Voltaire huffs but then nudges me with his nose. I know he forgives me. I used to visit the horses all the time with my mother. Since I lost her, I haven’t been able to bring myself to do some of the things we used to do together.

  My eyes start to water but I blink back the tears. There are too many cameras around. The reporters all focus on my father and I plaster on a smile. It’s showtime. All I have to do is stand here and look pretty while my father answers all their questions. The crowd loves him and always has. However, when I hear Colby’s name whispered between two male reporters, I freeze. They mumble back and forth to each other, smiling mischievously, and I hope to God they don’t bring Colby up. Then again, most of what the media wants is drama. I recognize the two reporters as being ones that like to start controversy. Danny Moskowitz and Chris Fowler. I’ve seen them on the news plenty of times. Unfortunately, this is the first time they’ve attended any of the derby events.

  “Mr. Armstrong,” Danny announces. There’s a glint in his eyes and I dread the next words that’s about to leave his mouth. My hand clenches and I sigh. This isn’t going to be good.

  My father lifts his brows and acknowledges him. “Yes.”

  Danny smiles over at Chris and then back to my father. “As of right now, your prized horse is expected to win, but from what I’ve heard, a lot of people are rooting for Maximus with Lucky Seven Ranch. Your former horse trainer, Colby Hensley, is the one who trained him. What do you think about your ex-employee turning into your biggest rival?”

  Heart racing, I glance over at my father who appears calm and collected, but I can see the anger igniting behind those green eyes of his. Colby is his biggest rival, and I for one am curious to see how it all plays out. I want Colby and Maximus to win. It’s Colby’s chance to make a name for himself.

  My father smiles and lifts his chin smugly. “I’m not worried in the least. Voltaire is my best horse yet. Nothing and no one will beat him. I’m that confident.” He looks over at me and William and flourishes a hand toward us. “Moving onto actual important things, I’d like to announce some good news. Tonight, I’m going to be celebrating with my daughter and William on their engagement.”

  My mouth drops and I gasp, but William squeezes my waist. “Just smile. I’ll explain later.” The cameras go crazy and the flashes make me see spots.

  Grinning wide, I keep my smile, but I speak through gritted teeth. Colby is over by the stalls and my eyes meet his. He’s just as confused as I am. “I’d say you have a lot of explaining to do, William,” I say low. What in the hell is going on? Once the reporters and camera crews are gone, and my father walks off with some of his friends, I grab William’s hand and pull him out of the stables. “What the crap was that? We’re getting married now?”

  William glances around quickly, keeping his voice quiet. “Your father was getting suspicious of your disappearances so I came up with the first thing I could think of.” He leans in close. “I did it to save your ass. All we have to do is keep on pretending, and when you’re ready, you can tell him the truth. It won’t be a big deal.”

  I smack his arm. “You should’ve told me. I could’ve played along better.”

  He smiles. “I would suggest we kiss and make this all look believable, but I really don’t want to get pummeled by your man. I may be gay, but I can see him taking a swing at me.”

  A giggle escapes my lips. “Yeah, he might. I need to find him and explain. I saw the look on his face when my father announced our engagement.”

  William sighs. “Me too.” He gently pushes me toward the barn. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s around. Why don’t you go talk to him?”

  With all the events going on today, it’s my only chance before our secret rendezvous tonight. “Okay,” I say, whispering the word. “I’ll meet you at the car.”

  I walk back into the stables and spot Colby with Maximus. There are a couple of people around outside, but no one is paying attention to us. Colby shuts the stall door and turns to face me, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “You’re getting married now?” he says, his lips pulling back into a smirk. “I kind of got the impression it shocked you too.”

  I laugh. “It did. William forgot to give me that little tidbit of information.”

  Colby leans against the stall door. “Interesting interview if you ask me. I like the part where they mentioned me.”

  I snort. “My father didn’t.”

  Colby nods. “Exactly. At least, there are others out there who are putting their bets on my horse.”

  “They would be stupid not to. I’m betting on you.”

  Colby steps closer, his eyes raking down my body. “And if I win, what will my prize be?”

  “I’m sure we can think of something.” Quickly, I scan the area and when I don’t see anyone, I clasp his face in my hands and kiss him. He holds me tight and opens my lips with his tongue, tasting me. I moan into his mouth and melt in his arms. “I have to go, but I’ll see you tonight. Come to my house.”

  He nips my bottom lip. “Until then. I love you.”

  “I love you too.” I kiss his cheek and hurry out of the stables with a smile on my face. It’s going to be a good day.

  After a full day of events, drinking, and playing Ms. Socialite, I spent the entire rest of the night in Colby’s arms until he left to head back to the stables before sunrise. The smell of bacon drags me out of my exhausted sleep, and I stretch before making my way downstairs.

  William is in the kitchen and on the table is a huge spread of eggs, bacon, pancakes, and orange juice. “Wow,” I gasp. “This is amazing.”

  William picks up the coffee pot and pours himself a cup of coffee. “Figured you’d be hungry after all of your exertions last night.”

  I can feel the blood rush to my cheeks. “Were we loud? I really tried to not make a sound.”

  He chuckles. “Don’t worry, I put in my earbuds and listened to music. I honestly have no clue what was going on. I just assumed.”

  I can’t stop from smiling. “It was a good night.” I sit down at the table and pour myself a glass of juice. My stomach growls. “I’m so hungry right now.”

  William takes the seat across from me. He looks different with his blond hair a mess and wearing just a T-shirt and pajama pants. I like it. “What are we doing today?”

  I scoop some eggs onto my plate and grab a couple pieces of bacon. “Just the usual. Parties here and there. We’re almost done with it all.”

  He brings his coffee cup to his lips. “And when it’s all done, you’ll tell your father the truth?”

  “Yep,” I say. “And I’m going to make sure he doesn’t do anything to jeopardize Colby’s work. One way or another, he has to accept him. I won’t give him up, not after he lied to me about why he left in the first place.”

  “I don’t blame you. Hopefully, it all works out. I’ll be here for you no matter what.”

  “Thanks,” I tell him, squeezing his hand. “I appreciate it.”

  He finishes off his coffee and nods toward the door. “I’m going out to get the newspaper. I’ve gotten to where I like reading stories about you southern folk.”

  Rolling my eyes, I wave him off. “You stay here long enough you’ll become one of us southern folk. You might even get the accent.”

  Shaking his head, he laughs and walks outside. There is nothing southern about William. I still haven’t managed to get him to eat grits, but one day, I will succeed. Sweet tea is still gross to him, but in time, he’ll grow to love it. I have a long list of foods I want him to try including fried okra, banana pudding, biscuits and gravy, southern BBQ, chicken pot pie, and so many other things. I can’t wait to introduce him to it all.

  I take a bite of the eggs and they practically melt in my mouth. They’re so good. William walks inside with his eyes transfixed on the newspaper. “These eggs are fantastic, William. Do I taste the hint of garlic in them?” He doesn’t answer me, only keeps his attention on the paper. “William
?”

  A look of concern passes over his face when he lifts his gaze to mine. “We have a problem.”

  Taking the seat beside me, he sets the newspaper down in front of me. Right in the middle of the paper is a large picture of me and Colby … kissing. I’m in my lavender dress and we’re standing by Maximus’ stall.

  I slap a hand over my mouth. “Oh, my God.” The only word I can focus on in the article is scandal. It’s written everywhere. “What am I going to do?”

  William shrugs and lets out a huge sigh. “I don’t know.”

  My phone rings and I rush over to the kitchen counter to grab it. I want it to be Colby, but when I look down at the number, it’s not him. It’s my father. William comes up to me and puts an arm over my shoulder. “You’re going to have to tell him the truth now.”

  I’m nervous and completely unprepared. I don’t care about what people say about me. I love who I love. My only concern is Colby. He’s worked too hard to be thrown under the bus.

  “Hello,” I say, trying to keep my voice strong.

  “What the hell is going on, Brielle?” my father yells. “Why is there a picture of you on the first page of the newspaper, kissing that horse’s ass?”

  Anger burns through my veins. “Colby’s a good guy, Dad,” I spat. “He told me what you tried to do with Maximus. That’s the real reason why he left us. You lied to me.”

  The line goes silent, but only for a second. “He’s not good enough for you and he never will be,” he growls low. “I’m going to make this story disappear. It’s either him or your family, Brielle. The choice is yours.”

  He hangs up and my heart stops.

  Seven

  Colby

  Maximus runs along the paddock. His dark coat makes him hard to see when he’s out of my sight, but I can hear him—huffing, and I can see steam coming from his nostrils. Every morning, I give him a few minutes to wake-up, to stretch his legs before we begin training. I look at my watch and count the minutes until the sun will start to rise. It’s the best time to train a horse or give him a workout. Once Maximus is done, he’ll go back into the stables for breakfast. He’ll get a bath, a nap, and he’ll chat with his other horse friends. I know it seems stupid to think the animals talk to each other, but they do.

  Kendrick Murphy joins me as I watch Maximus run. He’s ready to take him out onto the track for a test run. I glance him, he’s in his partial jockey gear, wearing Maximus’ colors on his shirt, but he’s opted for jeans this morning.

  He hands me a cup of coffee and stands next to me. “He’s fast.”

  “Too fast?” I question. “Thanks for this.” I raise the cup before I take a sip.

  “I watched some footage on the other horses. Depending on where we are in the gate, will determine what Maximus and I do. I don’t want to get boxed in.”

  “Armstrong’s horse will push to the inside. He’ll want his colt to run the line and hold tight to the rail. We can only hope he’s gated on the outside. I doubt it though,” I mumble. It’s hard to trust the old boys club when you’re the enemy. If I hadn’t worked for Armstrong, I’d be better received here. As is, reporters are digging for dirt, starting rumors, stating misleading facts, and doing their best to show the rift between us. They don’t understand that I left—although the reason is not known to them—for a stable to train on my own. It could be as simple as I don’t want to be under my father’s thumb and want my own limelight. It couldn’t be further from the truth but seems more plausible than the shit they’re trying to stir up.

  Out in the center of the paddock, an employee of the stable keeps Maximus trotting. When he passes us, the ground vibrates from his heavy hoofs. I love the feeling. I love the sound. When I was a kid, race day was my favorite. I’d always sneak as close to the track as I could get, lay on the ground, and let the sound of the running horses wash over me.

  “Voltaire is favored to win.”

  I nod and sigh. “It would be best if neither horse wins. The media is all over this crap, father versus son, the battle of the roses. I hate it.”

  I push away from the fence and step out toward Maximus. He slows and comes to a trot until he’s in front of me. I reach for his reins and tug him gently toward the opening. We pause briefly, and Kendrick mounts him. This morning they’ll run, and Kendrick will make sure the saddle settings are good. Not that we can’t adjust them later, but it’s nice for him to get a feel for things.

  We get to the track and I lead my horse and jockey to where the starting gates will be. When Saturday rolls around, Maximus will fight to go into the gate. It’s his natural instinct to struggle, plus he’ll feed off the energy of others, but Kendrick will ease him in. He’ll coax him and remind him it’s only for a second before the gates open, and they’re racing toward the finish line.

  My hand travels down Maximus’ forehead to his muzzle, which is velvety soft. His lips open, requesting a treat, which I have readily available for him. With a couple of crunches, the small carrots are gone.

  Kendrick maneuvers to the start line. “I want the second gate.”

  I laugh. “Me too. Maybe luck will be on our side when the gates are announced. I won’t hold my breath though.” I leave Kendrick and Maximus there and rush down the track. I find a good spot so I can time their run. As I stand there, I put one arm in the air and hold my timer with the other. For some reason, I’m nervous, when I shouldn’t be. We’ve done this what feels like, a million times, yet the biggest stage is getting closer and closer and I’m starting to question if I’m ready as a trainer. If Maximus is ready.

  My arm drops and my thumb presses the start button. Kendrick and Maximus thunder toward the first marker. I glance at the stopwatch and save the time. I do this again at the half-mile mark, the last quarter mile and the finish, and compare them to the last couple of winners.

  “How’d we do?” Kendrick asks after he and Maximus trot up to me. I walk along the side of them back to the stables.

  “You did well.”

  “You’re being modest,” Kendrick jokes.

  “I’m being cautious.” I hold Maximus’ reins while Kendrick dismounts. “We know he’s fast. We know he can win. What we don’t know is how he’ll manage all the media of that day.”

  Kendrick brushes his hand down the horse. “Maybe we should take him out again, later.”

  “We can for sure.” Maximus is directed into his stall where he goes to town on a hay bale and a bucket of oats. Kendrick and I stand there for a minute, watching him.

  “Thanks for this,” he says to me.

  I glance at him and smile. “You’re a natural with him. You guys are going to make history on Saturday, whether you win or not.”

  Kendrick sets his hand on my shoulder and laughs. “If I’m going to make history, I’m going to win. My name, along with his, needs to be cemented in the top spot. None of this, ‘Oh, this happened as well,’ shit. I want the headline.”

  “It’s yours to take. Let’s show these people what Maximus can do.”

  Kendrick and I go our separate ways. He goes to the jockey club. It’s their locker room and other jockeys will be there. They’re all friends, but there’s still some jealousy among them, like there is with most sports. I head back to my room and collapse onto my cot. I’m tired and knew better than to go over to Brielle’s, but I’m in love with her and want to be with her. The plan is to tell her father after the race about us and let the chips fall where they may. We’re adults and should be able to do whatever the hell we want.

  I’m about to doze off when there’s a loud pounding at my door and Kendrick calls out my name. “Someone better be dying, Kendrick,” I say loud enough for him to hear me, although it’s not hard because the walls are paper thin.

  “It’s you,” he says.

  I spring from my bed and throw the door open. Kendrick is standing there, looking ashen. My eyes travel from his face down to the newspaper he’s gripping. I don’t know what I truly see first—the picture of
Brielle and me or the headline—Scandal in the Stables.

  “Fuck,” I mutter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  “Yeah . . .” Kendrick draws out. “You’re the talk of the club.”

  My hands go through my hair, tugging at the ends. “Fuck,” I say again because I don’t know what else to say. “This is bad.”

  “It’s beyond bad, Colby. Her father had announced her engagement minutes before this picture was taken. How long has this been going on?”

  I don’t have to answer him, but I consider him a friend and know he won’t tell anyone. “A while, but we hadn’t spoken to each other since I left Armstrong’s. When we saw each other at her father’s everything came rushing back. I’m in love with her. I have been since I was a teen.”

  “This is heavy. You probably want to be alone to think about what you’re going to do.” I nod and Kendrick so graciously sets the paper down onto my bed before he leaves my room. If I were at home, I’d scream, throw things, and probably punch a wall. Or I’d call Brielle and tell her to come over.

  As if on cue, my phone rings. Her name and picture take over the screen. I stare at it for a second before answering on the fourth ring. “Hey.”

  She sobs into the receiver.

  “Where are you?” I ask her.

  “Parking lot.”

  I keep her on the phone and make my way out of the stables. My name is called, but I ignore everyone around me. I have no idea where I’m going when I reach the lot. “Where?”

  “Your truck,” she says. It warms me to no end that she went to my truck, that she even came here. It means something to me because she could avoid me all together. That thought gives me pause as I approach my truck. Maybe she’s here to end what we’ve just started. If she is, it’s not going to be here.

  Instead of embracing her, I unlock and open the door to my truck. “Get in.” She looks around and finally sets her foot onto the running board and climbs in. I rush around to the other side and get it.