“I needed the money for Samson’s livery. The bonuses were good.” I leaned against the window. “I give my all. Always. You haven’t seen it so far, not apart from when I was… well…” I smiled. “That doesn’t count, but even with that. I always give my all. It’s who I am.”
“If you don’t, you’ll be out on your ear. That goes for everyone on my programme.”
“Understood.”
“You lied to your father, said you knew me through Rick.”
“It’s not a lie. Idoknow you through Rick.”
“Misled him, then. Implied we’re just casual acquaintances.”
I smirked at him. “Aren’t we?”
“Is that what you think?” He pulled a pair of shades from his pocket and slipped them on against the glare, and I wished he hadn’t. He was impenetrable in shades. Unreadable.
“What didyou want me to say?Yeah, we’ve met. Hey, Pops, I took Carl and Rick in my snatch this weekend. Both of them at the same time. It was a hoot.”
“You could have made it clear we were friends.”
“Friends. That’s what we are?”
“Aren’t we?” He looked at me but all I saw was my own reflection.
“I don’t know what we are,” I admitted.
“Like we said before, Katie. That depends on you.”
“And likeIsaid before. Why on me? Surely it’s your gig?”
He pulled the Range onto the main road. “Us working together, that won’t affect our arrangement, no?”
I shook my head. “I’m not planning on it. It’s separate. I can deal with that.”
“I hope so.”
It seemed funny suddenly —fate. What a dickwad. The universe sure had a sense of humour. “I’ll be fucking the boss,” I laughed. “How totallyrad.”
“It’s not going to win you any favours, I promise you.”
“Wouldn’t assume for a second it would.” I watched Stroud pass by the window as we headed towards Cheltenham. “What a crazy six months it’s lining up to be. Six months with you and Rick, six months in this programme. Then Harrison Gables. Then my little yard. Definitely my little yard.”
“You’re doing this purely for some horse whisperer? Not for the money, or the experience? Just for him.”
I nodded. “Just for him.”
He steered around a bend, and I watched his hands on the steering wheel. Big fingers, long. He had great hands. “What if the programme had been a year? Two years?”
“It’s not,” I answered. “Luckily.”
“But if it had?”
“I’d have had to think about it.”
He tipped his head. “You’d have done it, wouldn’t you? Sacrificed a year, maybe two, for what you wanted? Something that could change your life forever?”
I let out a breath. “I guess. Probably. Yeah, probably. I mean, for one shot like that, one chance at something. Harrison Gables doesn’t normally take students.”
We sped towards Cheltenham, and I looked at my tatty jeans. I was tempted to ask Carl if we could go back to my car, grab a change of clothes from my case. Should have thought. Should’ve. Should’ve.