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He watched as she lost the next three races in a row and he picked up a couple of wins. Finally. Her crowd began to disperse as the magic disappeared and she was left with her original crew.
His phone convulsed like it was possessed. Wolfe scrolled through the text messages and voice mails, which were getting more frantic, and knew he didn't have much more time to hide her. Kate would get into the car and track them down. Alexa would call Sawyer, who'd tell Julietta, and then he'd be in trouble. His gut said she needed one more day to process before he took her back. So he bought the precious time by texting to a dozen people that she was fine and they'd be returning tomorrow. Then turned off his phone.
Screw it.
Wolfe glanced at the field for race nine. What a mess. A dozen horses, most of which hadn't raced before, and the odds were all over the place. He wouldn't even trust the Clocker Lawton tip sheet on this one, so Wolfe decided to scrap it. He tossed his form and his empty bottle, then headed toward Gen.
"One last bet, or are you ready? You did great today."
Gen looked up. There was an odd light in her eyes he recognized well. Sheer determination, fierce will, and stubborn pride.
It was pure nightmare.
Suddenly his heart began to thump. "Gen, what are you thinking?"
She smiled. Even Steve and Tom looked a little cowed by her. "Last race. Last shot. Number six."
He glanced at the monitor: fifteen to one. Not good in this mix-up, but at this point she couldn't lose much, right? "What's the name?"
"Phoenix Rising."
He swallowed. Yeah, this could be bad. Especially if she took it as some kind of sign. Wolfe forced a laugh. "Sweetheart, these horses have never run before. You had some beginner's luck, but placing a bet on a name is fun, not practical. Let's take your winnings, get a steak dinner, and call it a day."
"I have three words for you, Wolfe."
He tried not to panic, but he already recognized the craziness. She had a stubborn streak that rivaled no other. If you told Gen no, she only got more determined to prove herself. He remembered when he joked and said she'd never be able to pull an A on her Italian final back at NYU. She was a science wiz, but sucked at languages, so he'd had a field day teasing her while almost flunking her family's second language. What did she do?
Immersed herself in Italian for a week and refused to speak English in the house. Then scored an A on the exam.
She was scary.
"What three words?"
Gen smiled. "Let it ride."
Ed looked worried but slowly nodded. "It's the only thing left to do. The only move left. If this horse wins, it'll be a sign."
Wolfe stared. "What sign?"
"A sign I wasn't meant for my girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend. If Phoenix wins, it means I'll rise from the ashes and find a new love."
Steve groaned. "That's the stupidest thing I ever heard, bro. It's a horse. Not some kind of screwed-up analogy of your love life!"
Wolfe almost lost it, but Gen nodded as if she agreed and believed he was sane. "Ed, I completely agree. But we need to make a statement to the universe. Let's bet it all."
Ed clasped her hand as if they were married and had just asked the bank for a mortgage. "Yes. Let's do it."
"Are you nuts?" Tom yelled. "People only do that in the movies. We need the money for gas and food and stuff!"
Ed shook his head. "This is bigger than that, man. You're gonna have to back me on this."
Wolfe came out of his trance and shook his head. "Hell, no, you've both lost it. Names of the horses mean nothing when it comes to winning a race. You'll only be disappointed and more depressed. Walk away on a high note. I mean it, let's go."
She clucked her tongue in sympathy. "I'm sorry you don't understand, but I need to do this. If I take the risk and believe, something wonderful will happen. It's time to watch the Phoenix rise from the ashes. Come on, Ed."
Wolfe watched her walk away with his mouth half-open. What had just happened? When had he lost control of her and this whole nutty day?
Steve cleared his throat. "Damn. We'll be fronting him all weekend."
"What the hell does a phoenix have to do with a horse?" Tom asked.
"It's an analogy of rebirth," Wolfe said. "The phoenix is destroyed and rises above the ashes."
"Did Gen break up with someone, too?" Tom asked.
Wolfe didn't answer. Ah crap, it had nothing to do with losing the money. He was afraid if the horse lost she would spiral back into a deep depression. She was putting way too much into a horse that had no clue it meant more to her than a race. She was looking for forgiveness. Hope.
"Do you guys believe in religion or anything?" he asked.
They both shared a look. "Umm, we went to church when we were younger. We believe in God."
"Good. Pray hard we win. 'Cause if we don't, it's gonna be a disaster."
GEN CLUTCHED THE TICKET in her hand and trained her gaze on the field of twelve. Number six was dark brown, with a beautiful silky mane and stocking legs. His jockey wore navy blue. When he trotted past her on the way to the gate, she noticed the spring in his step, and thought it was a good sign.
Until he slammed his head against the gate and refused to go in.
Wolfe's expression made her palms sweat. He looked a bit worried. He never looked like that. She was so used to him being in control of every situation, the idea he could be nervous about her losing a silly race made her wonder why she was making such a big deal of it.
Because.
David didn't believe in chance, or luck, or God. Once she had. After two years of being with him, she didn't know anymore. He had consistently showed her how science was a tool, how odds were calculated and coincidence was just a blip on the monitor screen that really meant nothing.
Slowly, she'd begun to lose her sense of magic. Rationally, she realized the six horse was nothing but a target of her current heartache, an attempt to regain a mysterious emotion she believed may have died.
Simply put, she didn't care.
Gen needed Phoenix Rising to win.
They finally got him loaded into the gate. A few precious seconds ticked by. The doors exploded open and they were off.
The field was a mass of pounding legs clustered together in a tight herd. Phoenix was in the middle of the pack, holding his own but not doing spectacularly. She chewed on her lip while the guys yelled encouragement at the horse and the field rounded the first bend. Dirt flew. Ears pinned, the navy flag streamed in the air, slowly inching forward.
From the back of the pack, the eight horse flew past the mishmash and took the lead. Damn. He was gray. She'd heard about gray horses being lucky.
Phoenix held his own, and as they neared the second turn, the space between them closed. Ten inches. Six. Four. Three.
Ed screamed, "Go, you motherfucker! Go!"
Neck and neck, they neared the finish, the jockeys' whips nipping their flanks, hooves digging in, eyes fierce with the lure of victory.
They flew over the finish line together.
"Did he win?" Steve screamed. "Did he win?"
"I don't know! Fuck! I don't know!" Tom moaned, pacing back and forth. The crowd muttered in excitement, all trained on the board in front, waiting for the results. Ed didn't speak, just stared at the field.
Heart beating madly, Gen choked for breath, and then a warm, firm grip surrounded her. She looked down, and Wolfe's fingers clasped hers, as if they had always belonged there.
Wolfe smiled. "He won."
"How do you know?"
Those beautiful blue eyes darkened with a whisper of something deep. "I just know."
The word photo disappeared from the screen.
Number six, Phoenix Rising, was posted in the first slot.
Number eight was listed in the second.
"We won." Ed turned toward her, pure joy skating over his face. "We won, Gen!"
He grabbed her and spun her around, breaking the hold of Wolfe's grip. The guys whooped an
d shouted, spilling beer and pounding backs in a whirlwind of activity. When they showed the magic tickets, she came out with thirty thousand dollars and an IRS form. Ed pocketed two grand.
She walked in a daze as the boys celebrated, talking about champagne and dinners and bar hopping. Wolfe walked beside her and stopped at the front gate. "You're coming with us, right?" Ed asked. "You're my lucky charm. Let's get some dinner and relax. Get to know one another."
Steve and Tom stood behind, trying to be cool. Wolfe took a step back and said nothing.
Uh-oh. She caught the interested gleam in Ed's eye and wondered how she'd once again trapped herself into hurting another man. Still, it had been an incredible day and she'd never forget him. Gen raised herself on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.
"I just broke off an engagement, Ed," she told him. "I'm a wreck. But today, for a few hours, I forgot. I had a blast and I'll never forget you, but I have to go home now."
She waited for puppy dog eyes and a crestfallen expression. Instead, he nodded, brought her hand to his lips, and kissed her palm. "You're a hell of a woman. Thanks for today. It was a sign for me, too. Tracey wasn't for me."
