Jockeying for You (13 page)

Chapter 15

Back in Long Island, Jake sat at the same French restaurant, at the very same table, he had dined at with Ryder a few weeks ago on their first date. This time, however, with a much less pleasurable companion. His father. The old man looked at him with a grim expression.

It had been a long, hard conversation so far, and the prospect of it getting better was thin. The ordeal had taken a toll on Jake. He had come to the meeting with an open mind, but it was hard not to have his mood grow as dark as the late-evening sky. “I don’t know what to tell you, Dad. I hear you. I’m sorry you’re upset. But I care about Ryder Hannon. Upsetting her is going to upset me, so you can’t call her anymore.”

His father straightened in the wooden chair. Jake marveled at the quality of the suit, shirt, and tie his father wore. No matter how much Jake spent to look like a million, his father seemed to actually spend a million. As his father poured himself another glass from their expensive bottle of wine, Jake wondered if he had ever seen his father look casual. Like an actual father instead of a businessman. Even as a child Jake couldn’t remember ever seeing him in jeans. A tee shirt. Or, God forbid, sweatpants.
I’ll have to ask Dina if she remembers a time when Dad dressed down.

“Ah, there she is,” his father remarked with great enthusiasm.

What? Who is he talking about?
Jake was confused until he watched his father gesture over a tall, thin, brunette beauty in a couture knee-length dress. His stomach sank.
Betsy.
His hands clenched into tight fists.
Dad’s
got
to be kidding me.
“Dad,” Jake ground out. “I don’t think you’ve gotten my message. Stop interfering with my life.”

“Nonsense,” his father bellowed to the consternation of a couple sitting one table over.

Before Jake could do any more, Betsy was before them. His father ordered the wait staff to bring over another chair. Within seconds, Betsy was seated beside them. With a lovely flush of her perfect cheeks, she lifted an arm to touch Jake’s sleeve.

“Don’t,” Jake warned.

“Where are your manners, son? I invited Betsy to join us for dessert. I was hoping I’d talk some sense into you during dinner. Too bad I didn’t get the chance. You were too busy repudiating everything I said. But Betsy here knows I’m a man to be listened to, right?”

Betsy smiled and nodded. “Right you are, Mr. Carter.” Then she turned her attention to Jake. “How have you been, Jakey? It’s been too long. I’ve missed you.”

Am I on an episode of
Punk’d
? Or in a Salvador Dali painting perhaps? If the restaurant’s wall clock starts melting to the floor the night still couldn’t get any more surreal.
“You miss me because you dumped me. And you did it as soon as you thought I was running low on cash. The horse you asked me to buy was draining my wallet, so you didn’t want to waste any more of your time on me. That about right?”

“Jake,” his father said in a warning tone.

“It’s all right, Mr. Carter,” Betsy said. “I expected this. I never did explain to Jake the reason why I left him.”

She turned to Jake. “I thought your financial situation was stressing you out so much I couldn’t make you happy anymore. I left to give you space.” She looked down at the table and caught her breath before she risked eye contact again. “To be honest, Jakey, I also wanted to make things easier on myself. It’s hard to be around a man who doesn’t notice you anymore.” She picked up his hand and held it. “It was a bad call on my part, I know. I should have stuck it out. Somehow I should have convinced you to focus on me. But I ran away instead. I’m so—”

Jake took his hand back and placed it firmly beside him. “It was a terrible call.”

“You need to give her a chance,” his father commanded. “Instead of being interested in the hired help like your horse trainer, Betsy here is one of
our
kind. Well-bred—”

“Handsome Dancer is well bred, but you didn’t like my selection with him. Go figure,” Jake quipped.

“Listen to me, Jakey,” Betsy pleaded, “I’m not—”

“What you’re not,” Jake interrupted, “is going to be with me.” He pushed out his chair and rose from the table. “Since you two seem to value each other’s company so much, feel free to enjoy the rest of the evening together. I’ve got a date with the hired help. Good night.”

With those parting words, Jake walked out of the restaurant.

Ryder swallowed hard and grabbed the doorknob to her office, bracing herself. The room was only partially lit, whatever light there was filtering in through the window. In a few minutes, the sun would be full down. She hit the light switch and called out, “Lenny?”

The old man walked in heavily from a back room. “Ryder? Did you forget something?”

Yes, my courage.
“Um, no. I wanted to speak with you.”

Lenny rested his rear end on the edge of a desk and crossed his arms over his chest expectantly.

I wonder if that’s where I get it from? Geez, the posture looks so self-protective. Defensive, even.
“I’m going to come right out and say it. I’d like to . . . no, I need to . . . race again professionally. At least one last time. Jake Carter has asked me to be the jockey for Handsome Dancer, and I said yes.” She coughed and felt herself squirm. “I want you to be the official trainer so I’m not playing both roles. Will you do this for me?”

Lenny’s eyes popped open but he said nothing for a long while.

“Speak to me, Lenny. Please?”

“I have no problem having you put me down as the trainer. But watching you race is going to kill me, little girl,” the old man said, his words dry. “What’s going to happen if you fall again? What’s going to happen to
me
if I watch you fall again?”

“I know, Lenny,” she answered softly. “For a long while, I couldn’t bear the thought of it myself. I was hospitalized for a long time, and I’m lucky I didn’t get killed.”

“Does Jake Carter want that to happen to you?” he shot out defiantly. “’Cause if he does, I’ve got a right hook he won’t be able to duck. I may be old but I can still fight like a man.”

“You’re fighting for me, Lenny. I get that. I love you for it. My dad loved you for it, too. Mom has always been so happy you take care of me the way you do.” She struggled to get words past her own tight throat. “When Dad passed on, I don’t know what I would have done without you. You were one of my support pillars, always around so I wouldn’t feel alone. Even during my worst days of depression.” She walked over to him and hugged him tightly. His gnarled arms wrapped around hers and he kissed her cheek.

“You’re my kid, Ryder. You are your dad’s kid, too, I know. But you’re still mine, nonetheless.”

It’s the most heart-felt thing he’s ever said to me. Probably to anyone. Ever.

He let her go. She took a step back. She’d never seen the tough old man red-eyed before. “I love you, too, Lenny.”

He sniffed and shoved a hand in his pocket to take out a handkerchief. He nodded. “Better not let anything happen to you out there. If it does, Jake Carter is going to answer to me.”

Chapter 16

The day of the race brought Ryder a new level of nervous energy. Along with a new level of problems. The first was a sealed letter that’d been left on her office chair that morning. The envelope was blank but the inside message had plenty to say with just a few words.
Jake Carter does not date trash.

She’d swallowed down bile.
Who the heck wrote this?
She’d grabbed the paper, ready to ball it up and throw it into the trash, but she’d thought better of it. If this was harassment of some kind, she might need it for the police. She shoved the message into her desk and out of her mind.

The second problem was even more unbelievable.

“Where’s Clem?” Ryder demanded of everyone in her stalls. But no one was able to tell her where the goat had gone.
Of all days for Clem to disappear.
Handsome Dancer had taken to the brown and white goat as if his very own personal pet. The goat had a calming effect on the horse even Ryder herself had a hard time duplicating. When Handsome periodically thrashed in his stall, Clem would hear the racket and bleat loud enough to get Handsome’s attention. The horse would lower his head over the stall’s door, and Clem would stretch his neck out until they touched. The effect on Handsome would always be immediate. Ryder had joked that Clem worked better than Xanax.
When I find Clem I’m going to touch my head to his, too. If it can work on nervous animals, why not me?

But after looking high and low, Clem was nowhere to be found. Even the chickens had proverbially flown the coop. “Henrietta Hen? Carly Cluckster?” She called out their silly names but heard no more of them than she had the missing goat.

Handsome Dancer was shifting around nervously in his stall worse than ever, neighing and bobbing his head up and down nonstop.
He needs his friends. How could they all disappear like this?

She quickly texted Mindy.

Seconds later, Mindy texted back.
Sorry, Ry. Handsome’s animal friends must have wandered off. I’d give you a hand rounding them up, but Baby Be Mine is in this race too, and I’ve got to tend to him.

Of course Mindy is busy with her own contender. Duh!
Ryder gave herself an imaginary smack on the head before texting back,
No problem. Good luck in the race!

Mindy texted back a smiley emoji with the words,
You, too.

Ryder was on her own to go find them because the third oddity of the day was Lenny feeling ill. The older man, normally bulletproof from colds and flu, had woken up that morning with a fever. Normally that still wouldn’t have kept him away, but the constant vomiting had forced him to stay home. He had been sick enough to warrant her own mother going over there to help him get out of bed.

The only person left of her inner circle was Jake. But as Handsome Dancer’s owner, Jake had his own responsibilities to take care of. Like speaking with the Press. Schmoozing up other owners in the VIP area. And promoting not only Handsome Dancer, but all of his horse stock. The bigger the draw his stables got, the more asking money he could potentially get for them. Of course, to help boost his stock’s fame, he’d be looking to Ryder to win today’s race. Jake was very clear that Handsome Dancer’s win would be the centerpiece of his promotional campaign.

She wiped a bead of sweat off her forehead and tried to ignore the blooming headache. The heat and humidity were enough to make her temples throb even without all this added pressure.

Of all the problems, however, the worst by far was the weather. And not just because it was triggering a barometric-pressure-driven headache. A heaviness hung in the air. Oppressive calm right before the storm. The sky was cloudy but still bright enough. The sky’s appearance, however, could not be trusted.

Racing during a storm would be her worst-case scenario. A replay of the time she fell, with she and her horse floundering, injured in the mud. Lying face down in torrential rain.

After walking the stalls and their perimeter a half-dozen times, she went back to check on Handsome Dancer. A glance at his pinned-back ears made it clear she wasn’t the only one being impacted by the impending storm. His flesh twitched, as if he were electrified by the weather itself.

“Whoa there, Handsome babycakes. We’ll get through this.” Her voice was as gentle as possible to soothe him. Soft, slow nose rubs helped to calm him down, too. Still, his right hoof kept kicking backward nervously. The horse, usually silent, whinnied persistently.

“Shhhh, it’s all right, Handsome Dancer. You’ll be back in this stall wearing the blue ribbon way before the storm hits. Clem and Henrietta will be here. You can show them the big basket of victory carrots I’m gonna give you. Then we’ll celebrate, warm and dry.”

Outside, the wind picked up and the temperature dropped. “Damn. I hope we’re going to make it back from the race before the storm hits.”

Handsome Dancer peered up at her, his brown eyes soulfully round.
It’s as if he can understand me.
“Don’t worry, babycakes. I’ll be with you the entire way. We will win together.”
Or go down together.

A glance at her watch let her know there was only two hours left before they had to go to the gate.

Handsome whinnied again. He did not sound happy.
Maybe Jake can help calm him down with me.
“I’ll be back, soon, Handsome,” she said before texting the only ally around to help both her and the horse. When no answer came back, she decided to find him.

Unfortunately, the access to the VIP section was extremely limited. Ryder made her way to the section closest to that area. Frustrating as it was, at least she didn’t have to worry about looking out of place among the derby hat wearers in her working-class, denim-clad clothes. There was time enough to change into her jockey silks.

The less she drew attention to herself with the owners’ crowd, the happier she was going to be. With her nerves already on-edge she didn’t need to hear any unkind comments to throw her confidence further off-kilter. Hopefully the Mets baseball hat she wore would help obscure her face from view.
If I can just grab his attention, we can slip away quick.

At last she found Jake at the edge of the VIP section on the opposite side from her, near the side-rail. Seeing him was an enormous relief. She exhaled a heavy breath and almost called out to him when she suddenly froze.

The woman standing next to Jake was somehow familiar. Tall and thin with dark brown hair. Ryder squinted to get a clearer look at her. The woman was wearing a derby hat as elegant and expensive as they came. Bows and elaborately painted butterflies danced around a bright green background. The dress she wore had a matching design set against a shiny green fabric that cinched at the waist and flared to the knees.

The overcast sky thankfully prevented the woman from also wearing sunglasses, which would have blocked out her face. But still it was hard for Ryder to tell why she was familiar. Deciding the woman must simply be another owner who hung around the track, Ryder lifted an arm to gesture Jake to come over.

Ryder’s arm, however, only got halfway in the air because she saw the brunette smile broadly at a man who also seemed familiar. In fact, the man appeared to be an older version of Jake. Shorter, with thinning hair.
Oh, no, that must be his father. I’d better back away before he sees me.
But Jake’s older doppelganger was obviously too engaged with the brunette to notice Ryder.

Ryder turned to leave but stopped when she heard the man loudly say a memorable name. Betsy.
Of course! The woman in the engagement photo.

Then Jake leaned toward the woman, angled his face under the broad brimmed butterfly hat, and kissed her.

Ryder felt her blood turn to ice. Her heart lurch. A sensation of nausea rise up from her belly until it threatened to spill forth from her already gagging throat.

Jake is a liar.

If there was nothing going on between the two of them, why wouldn’t Jake have mentioned he’d be sitting with her in the VIP section? What was he trying to hide? That he had rekindled their relationship? Or that he’d been with her the entire time Ryder and Jake had been together?

Ryder stood there, desperate to hide but with legs firmly bolted to the ground. Her ribcage felt tight, as if it was going to crack. Her breath, and time itself, suspended. After Jake’s father put an arm around Betsy, bile reached as far as her teeth. Then the three of them sat down together.

Refusing to run, Ryder crossed her arms over her chest and stared them down. Not that they noticed.
I might as well be invisible.
Her eyes stung. It was a matter of time before her face became as wet as the darkening sky.

Then a thought even more painful hit her. The letter.
Jake Carter doesn’t date trash.
Did Jake write it? Did the woman? Did Jake’s father?

Ryder felt her head spin. Despair swirled and fluttered around her.
Maybe Jake didn’t care about her after all. Acting out this charade to manipulate her into racing his horse. It’s not like anyone else could ride Handsome Dancer. Not with Handsome’s temperament and such a short time to get him used to somebody new. Even a more experienced jockey would have a helluva time racing without Handsome’s acceptance. Jake even admitted this. Was this why he told her he was no longer involved with Betsy?

The sense someone was staring at her made her look away from Jake and lift her eyes higher in the VIP stands. A man located a few rows up but closer to her side of the stadium gave her a malevolent stare.
Barney Smythe.

The man shot her a nasty grin.
Figures he’s so hostile. His horse is also racing today.
She closed her eyes to remember his horse’s name. Knows No something or other. Despite the man’s obvious ill-wishes she was about to mouth the words “good luck” to him when she noticed something peculiar on his dark blue blazer. A white and brown feather hanging off the jacket’s cuff. Ryder’s mouth dropped open, the bile once again threatening to bubble out.
Bastard took Handsome Dancer’s pet chicken! He probably has Clem the goat, too. This man will stop at nothing to win.

Scared for Handsome Dancer’s safety, she flew back to the stables as fast as she could go. And then she kept running—far away from both Jake Carter and her ambition to ever jockey again.

Jake sat in the viewing stands with every nerve in his body on edge.
I should be back in the stables seeing if Ry needs a hand.

He had wanted to make peace with his father, at least as much as possible. Fighting his family was daunting on multiple levels. But more than worrying about being boxed out of business deals, he was worried about being emotionally boxed out.

His father would hopefully come to accept both of them. As long as he and Ryder were together, his father needed to accept them as a couple. His father also needed to understand he was not allowed to quarterback but would be welcomed as a spectator of their winning team.

Jake pulled out his smart phone to send Ryder a text but realized his battery had died. He rolled his eyes in disgust.
Of all days.

Looking up, he realized his day was going to get worse. Betsy was waltzing her way up and down the VIP viewing stands, her internal GPS obviously on him. She blew him a kiss in what he guessed was her attempt to be sexy. The effort was wasted. Jake felt his expression fall, his happiness break off, hurtling all the way down.

“Great, Dad,” Jake whispered to his father, out of Betsy’s earshot. “Invite Betsy after I told you I don’t want to see her anymore. And more importantly, I told you I’m involved with somebody else.”

“Betsy’s my guest so be polite.”

“I’ll be polite to make you happy. I also don’t want to cause a scene. But if you don’t stop setting me up we’re headed for a big fight. I don’t want that. I hope you don’t either. You don’t get to decide how I run my life.” There was no choice but to stop talking since Betsy was once more upon them.

“Hi, Jakey.” She beamed at him with bright eyes and tilted her head to the side so she could get a kiss.

Biting back his anger at being manipulated, he leaned forward and made a “mwah” sound in the air.

“Let’s sit down, shall we?” she said sweetly.

Not to cause a public scene, he did. When she draped a hand casually on his thigh he narrowed his eyes, picked up her hand, and dropped it back on her lap. “Betsy,” he said in a low voice with a distinct warning tone. “You need to cut that out. We’re not engaged anymore.”

She gave him a pout. “I know you’re going to change your mind about me. Your father and I have been talking. He knows I want us to get engaged again. I’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks now.” She fluttered long, pretty lashes at him. “I’ve been jockeying for you, Jakey.”

“No, Betsy, you’ve been jockeying for the best deal around. So long as you think I’m it, that person will be me.”

Her mouth dropped open. Her ashen look was almost comical.

“Count me out of your wedding plans, Betsy. This horse has bolted.” With that, he stood up. “See you around.”

He barely had time to see her face contort in rage as she got up. She ran down the VIP section’s central staircase and, in an instant, was gone.

“Son, sit back down. We need to talk,” his father said, his words as heavy as lead.

“No, Dad, I’m done with talking. You need to listen.”

His father’s jaw magically turned into stone. An unmovable statue. “Now see here, I’m tired—”

“I’m tired too, Dad. Tired of you always riding me. You are not my trainer, leading me around until I do your bidding. Nor are you my jockey who can whip me to move faster. I need you to accept me and respect me. And my decisions. Including those about women. I get to decide who I want to be with, not you.” Jake paused and cleared his throat. “I know you’re only doing what you think is best for me. But it’s going to destroy our relationship if you don’t back off. I’m a grown man. I need to live my own life.”

His father’s jaw bounced up and down wordlessly for a few moments. “Everybody values my advice. Everybody but you. You don’t show me any respect.”