“That’s one way of looking at it,” Arthur drawls, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “And if that’s the case, there’s nothingleft to do. The paperwork will be with you tomorrow. But I’m making one last attempt to persuade you not to do this.”
Miles rolls his eyes, and his head flops back in his chair. “Arthur, it's not a big deal. We'll get through this season and then get a divorce or annulment or whatever people do, and Ruby can continue on a sports visa. We’re just filling a gap in the process, so chill out, for fuck’s sake.”
I’m as done as Miles seems to be with this conversation and stand up for a better look out of the window, where Max and Story are feeding Maverick his forbidden carrots.
Miles’s last words ping in my belly. I mean, I'm no conventionalist, and marriage isn’t something I’ve ever given much thought about, so why do I care whether we get a divorce? I’ve been too busy cleaning out stables to make a vision board of poofy white dresses and a perfect marriage. I’ve never yearned for roses and that little girl fantasy.
What’s marriage anyway when you boil it down? Little more than a deal between two people. I’m getting an opportunity I wouldn’t have had otherwise. Women have done a lot more for a lot less. If this is what it takes to make it in a highly competitive world, then so be it.
“Ruby?”
I spin around, and Miles is staring at me. “You okay?”
I nod, swallowing the stab in my gut that I’m doing something I shouldn’t, and instead chalk it up to nerves. “Yeah, fine. Like you said, we’ll get a divorce. Whatever, no big deal, right?”
Miles nods slowly.
“So are we done with this conversation? Give me the paperwork, and I’ll sign it. Let’s get it over with and get out of here.”
Something curious flashes in his eyes, and he stares at me for a beat. And my stomach drops. This is stupid. What the fuck do I think I’m doing?
“Great. As you heard, the paperwork should arrive first thing in the morning. We’ll get it signed and head straight to the courthouse. Fly back home tomorrow.”
Home. England. I guess it’s my home for the foreseeable future. It’ll be the longest I’ve spent in one place for years, that’s for sure.
“I assume you have a passport?”
I nod. Likely the only time I’ll thank Scott McTavish for anything, but his empty promises helped me have my travel documents in order. “Yes.”
“Excellent. And the horses have been given the all-clear, so they’ll be loaded in the morning. They have to spend forty-eight hours in quarantine and will arrive the day after we do.”
“Sounds like it’s all taken care of,” I say, because what else is there to say?
We all turn as the door opens, and Story cranes her head through the opening. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but I'm gonna take Max into town to get an ice cream.”
Immediately, Miles’s expression changes to one of immense glee. “I could murder an ice cream. Good plan. Let’s all go.”
Story turns around just as the door flies wider and in zooms Max, Hendricks’s six-year-old son, aiming straight for his father, who catches him before he gets punched in the nuts.
“Daddy!”
“Hi, buddy.”
“Daddy, I think Maverick really likes me, and I think he’d really love Honey as a friend. Can we buy him?”
I’m about to say, “absolutely fucking not,” when Hendricks responds with the tact and patience I’m missing.
“He already belongs to Ruby, and he’s not for sale.” Hendricks’s eyes flick to mine. “Honey is Max’s puppy.”
“Oh. Cute.”
Max looks at me, all big blue eyes and curly hair just like his father. Just like hisuncle.“She’s my best friend.”
I’ve not spent any time around children, but something about the way his face is all soft and gooey as he smiles at me makes me wonder if that’s what I’m like with Maverick. It’s also clear he’s waiting for an answer.
“Maverick is my best friend. And I think we’re coming to stay in England a little while, so how about they meet?”
His eyes flare impossibly wide. “Can I ride him? I ride all of Uncle Miles’s polo ponies.”
