My Favorite Mistake (4 page)

But Jamie had believed in her and given her the chance to prove him right. And Kate had. Big-time. These days, she still only had one good pair of breeches and regularly walked around with hay stuck in her ponytail. But nobody could imagine Pelham Lane without her.

“So is he thinking you two might be able to qualify for any of the finals this year?” Tommi asked Kate.

Kate shrugged, then glanced up as a burst of laughter came from the end of the aisle. A second later Marissa rounded the corner, along with another junior rider named Dani.

“Hi, guys,” Marissa said when she saw Tommi and Kate. “What's up?”

“Kate was just telling me about Jamie's big plans for her in the Big Eq,” Tommi replied, reaching up to flick some dust off
Legs's haunches. “He's already mapping out their triumphant journey to finals.”

“Yeah, congrats again on that ribbon last weekend, Kate,” Dani said.

“And thanks for making the rest of us look bad,” Marissa added with a playful groan. “Now I've got no excuse for never pinning in the eq. Well, except not being as tall and skinny as you—I keep telling Jamie I've got a medical condition that requires me to eat at least fifteen bagels a week, but I'm not sure he believes me.”

Dani laughed, and Tommi rolled her eyes. Marissa was always joking around about her weight and her many failed attempts to diet, even though she wasn't even really heavy—just not built naturally long and lean like Kate.

Kate smiled, looking a little uncomfortable, then bent to grab a different brush out of Tommi's tote. Meanwhile Dani stepped over to give Legs a pat.

“How's your new guy doing, Tommi?” she asked.

“Great,” Tommi said. “Most of the time, anyway. He's still having quite a few greenie moments, though. I was actually sort of wondering if I should skip this next show, give him a break. Maybe just work at home this week, then have both of us take the weekend off.”

“Really?” Marissa sounded surprised. “You mean you wouldn't go to the show at all? Even to ride your other horses?”

“Is that what Jamie suggested today?” Kate asked. “Giving Legs a week off ? You didn't mention that.”

“No, Jamie didn't suggest it. It's just something I've been thinking about.” Tommi was already wishing she hadn't said anything.

But now that it was out there, she had to wonder. The idea had seemed perfectly logical in her head. But was it really what she thought was best for Legs? Or was she mostly thinking about herself—specifically, that Hamptons trip and the chance to spend the whole week getting to know Alex better instead of just a couple of days? It would be so easy to make it happen. Jamie's assistant trainer, Joy, always stayed home from shows to keep the barn running. Tommi could ask her to school Legs a few times, or maybe just lunge him to keep him in shape …

The buzz of her cell phone broke into her thoughts. Grabbing the phone out of her pocket, she saw that it was a text from Grant.

Hi! What's up? Party was fun last night, huh?

Tommi frowned. Uh-oh. She and Grant were still friends. But not the type of friends that sent chatty texts to each other for no reason. Had seeing her at that party rekindled his interest in her? She hoped not—telling him she didn't like him in that way had been uncomfortable enough the first time. She didn't want to do it again.

“Everything okay, Tommi?” Marissa asked.

Tommi glanced up quickly, remembering she wasn't alone. Marissa was watching her face curiously. The girl liked to play the clown most of the time, but Tommi knew she wasn't nearly as ditzy as she let on. And she loved any hint of gossip.

“Oh. No, I'm fine,” Tommi said, quickly pasting on the neutral expression she'd perfected after so many years of living in her family. She reached out to unclip the closest cross-tie. “Just thinking it's probably time to get Legs put away.”

Halfway to the gelding's stall, she heard her phone buzz
again. She waited until she got Legs settled, then checked the message as she stepped toward the aisle. It was another text from Grant:
By the way, do u have Zara's #? I might give her a call if u don't mind.

Tommi paused in the stall doorway, staring at the message. Zara? He wanted Zara's number?

She flashed back to the party at the hotel the last night of Hounds Hollow. Zara and Grant had ended up in a serious makeout session in the pool. Tommi had assumed it was just a little drunken fun, but could it have been more than that, at least for Grant? Could he really be interested in Zara?

And why shouldn't he be? Zara had inherited the best of both her parents' looks—flawless dark skin and glossy black curls from her gorgeous Trinidadian actress mother, striking green eyes and a strong chin from her ruggedly handsome father. Tommi wasn't sure which side of the family the big boobs came from, but whatever. She was pretty sure the guys didn't care where they came from.

But Grant wasn't totally shallow, at least Tommi didn't think so. One drunken evening wasn't enough for him to know what Zara was really like. Tommi still wasn't sure she knew herself. Everyone had known Zara's rep since long before she'd moved to Jamie's barn—the bad girl, the celebubrat from LA who did whatever she wanted and screw the consequences. Tommi knew better than to assume that anyone's public image was totally true, even if most of the others didn't. She knew people were more complicated than that.

But was Zara the exception to that rule? At first it had sort of seemed like it. Tommi had been ready to write her off,
especially after the disaster with Ford. But then Zara had stepped up, ready to confess to Jamie what she'd done. Fitz had jumped in before she got the chance—Tommi still wasn't sure what to think about
that
, but Fitz was another topic—and so Jamie still didn't know the truth. But the important thing was that she'd been willing to do it. That had won her more than a few points in Tommi's eyes.

Was it enough to make up for all the other crap? Tommi wasn't sure yet. She bit her lip, feeling oddly uncomfortable. Why did Grant have to put her in the middle of this? He was one of her oldest friends, and she didn't want to see him get hurt.

But she quickly shook that off. Grant was a big boy—he could take care of himself. Giving Legs a pat, she fastened his stall guard, then headed to the office to get Zara's number. As soon as she had it, she texted it to Grant, trying not to think about it too much.

Her phone was hardly back in her pocket for five seconds before it buzzed again. This time it was a phone call. Tommi didn't even bother to check the screen, figuring it was Grant calling to thank her. He was just that kind of guy.

“Hi,” she said.

“Tommi? Is that you? Hi!”

Tommi blinked. That definitely wasn't Grant, but it took her a second to place the voice.

“Alex?” she said, her stomach doing a funny little flip. “Hey! What's up?”

“Hope you don't mind me calling,” he said. “Parker gave me your number. I just came up with an idea and wanted to run it by you.”

“Sure,” Tommi said. “What is it?”

“Think I already told you, I'm crashing at a friend's place in the city this weekend,” he said. “I was going to hop the Jitney back home on Monday, but then Parker said you'd probably drive yourself out for the house party.”

“That's the plan,” Tommi said. “Want a ride?”

“That's what I was hoping you'd say.” She could almost hear his grin through the phone. “I'm seriously bummed that you have to cut out early for your show, but at least this way I'll get to hang with you a little longer, you know?”

“Sounds fun,” Tommi said. “It's a date.” Then, realizing a half second too late what she'd said, she gulped. “Um, I mean, you know—”

“No, it's okay,” he said quickly. “It's definitely a date. If that's okay with you. You know.”

“Yeah.” Tommi felt awkward. She was usually better than this at talking to guys.

Then Alex laughed sheepishly. “Okay, how'd this conversation suddenly go all middle-school dance on us? Or is it just me?”

“Nope.” Tommi laughed, too. “Not just you. So let's review here: I'm driving out to the Hamptons, you're coming along. Deal?”

“Deal,” Alex said. “Hey, and if you've got an iPod dock in your car, how about I bring some stuff to listen to? I want you to hear that band I was telling you about at the party. I think you'll really like them.”

“Cool,” Tommi said. “But I should probably warn you—if I don't like something, I don't fake it. If your favorite band sucks, I'm going to say so.”

“You'd better,” Alex retorted quickly. “I'm not much into pushovers or fakers. I could tell you weren't like that as soon as I met you. It's what made me want to find out more.”

“Okay, good.” Tommi felt a little shiver of anticipation run through her. She was looking forward to finding out more, too. “So what's this band like again?”

She was smiling when she hung up a few minutes later. So maybe her idea to skip the show entirely was kind of lame. But compromising by going out a couple of days later than she'd originally planned?

Yeah, that seemed to be working out just right.

“Zara! Hi!” Summer was in the aisle watching Max sweep when Zara entered the barn. “I was hoping you'd come out today. Did you get my text?” She hurried toward Zara, her obnoxious little brat of a dog leaping at her heels.

Great. Just what Zara needed to make her foul mood even worse. Summer was like the ugly chin zit you assumed would go away if you ignored it long enough. Only it didn't. Just kept getting bigger and more disgusting.

“Nope, didn't get any text from you,” Zara lied. “Your phone must be screwed up or something.”

Summer's pale blue eyes widened with alarm. “Do you really think so?” she exclaimed, fishing a shiny new pink cell phone out of the pocket of her Tailored Sportsmans. “But I just got it! It's exactly like the one Tommi has—well, except hers is boring black—so I figured it was probably, like, really good …”

Zara hardly heard her. Her mind was already wandering
back to her father's big news. Yeah, leave it to Zac to think she'd actually be okay with having a babysitter while he was in Europe. Clueless didn't even begin to cover it.

But whatever. It looked like she'd just be spending even more time at the barn than usual. At least for the rest of the summer.

As she wandered off down the aisle, she realized Summer was tagging along at her heels as obsessively as her bratty little dog might do. And yapping nonstop just like him, too. Did she even notice that Zara wasn't listening?

“… and anyway, I heard Fitz is, like, totally grounded from the next show,” Summer was saying as Zara tuned back in. “I wonder if—”

“That's nice.” Zara cut her off. “Got to run. Ellie's probably waiting for me. And she hates to wait.”

Both those things were true, at least. Zara had called ahead from the car to ask the grooms to get the mare ready. And Ellie tended to get testy if left in the cross-ties for half a second longer than she felt was necessary.

Zara couldn't help smiling as she thought about her new horse. Yeah, so maybe that last show hadn't gone as smoothly as it could have. But that was part of the fun, right? At least Ellie had a mind of her own. Zara was already looking forward to the next show when the two of them could show everyone what they could
really
do.

“Oh, you mean you're going for a ride right now?” Summer asked eagerly.

“Um, duh,” Zara said. “Why do you think I came to the barn? To get a mani-pedi?”

Summer appeared totally unfazed by the sarcasm. “Cool, I was thinking about riding soon, too. I'll join you.”

Zara bit her tongue—literally—to stop herself from snapping out a rude reply. Sure, Summer was a pain in the ass. But she wasn't really the one who was making Zara feel like crap. Nope, that honor belonged to her own father, the guy who barely noticed where she went or what she did—and yet suddenly seemed to think she needed to be treated like a five-year-old.

“Whatever,” she muttered as Summer hurried off down the barn aisle shouting for Miguel.

Zara turned toward Ellie's stall. The mare was cross-tied in the aisle, with Zara's saddle already neatly positioned atop a spotless Mattes pad. Javier was bent over the horse's front legs fiddling with her sheepskin-lined Eskadron boots.

When she saw the young groom, Zara's stomach twisted as she instantly flashed back to the Hounds Hollow showgrounds. The drunken crash. The injured horse. Her desperate threat to turn Javier in, tell Jamie he was illegal. How long had it taken for someone to tell Javier about that? Whatever, he had to know all about it by now. All about how she'd almost ruined his life.

One of the barn dogs, Hugo, was sitting nearby chewing on a stray bit of hoof the farrier must've tossed him. The dog wagged his tail and jumped to his feet when he noticed Zara coming, which made Javier look up as well.

“Hi, Miss Trask,” the groom said politely, his dark eyes unreadable behind their long lashes. “She's almost ready for you.”

“Thanks,” Zara muttered, not quite meeting his gaze.

He finished adjusting the boot and stood. “Are you ready?” he asked. “I'll bridle her for you now if you like.”

“Sure, thanks.”

Javier hurried off toward the tack room with Hugo right behind him, leaving Zara standing there feeling guilty and unsettled as she wondered what the young groom was thinking about her right now. Ugh. And this was supposed to be her refuge from the annoyances of home?

Just then Fitz wandered into view at the end of the aisle. Great. Another person she definitely didn't feel like dealing with right now. She'd barely seen him since the end of the show, mostly because his parents had banned him from the barn for a week once they heard what had happened. Well, what had
supposedly
happened.