“Sounds like the best way.” I laugh, not that I have any idea or concept of what it's like to have a child or have ever thought about what it’s like to have a child, seeing as I can barely look after myself and my horse.
“How are you finding England?” she asks.
“It’s cute,” I admit. “It’s been a long week, and Miles has already put me to work, so I haven’t seen a whole lot. When I’m not at the yard, I’m catching up on sleep, but . . .” I grin, becauseI might be exhausted, but it’s close to being the best week of my life so far. “I’ve loved every second. Have you been to Foxleigh?”
She nods. “I've only visited it a couple of times?—”
“I've never seen anything like it. The caliber of his horses . . . the technology he uses . . . it’s so exciting. My horse, Maverick, got a massage the other day . . .” I stop as Haven’s eyes begin to glaze over. I could talk for hours about Foxleigh Park, but I realize not everyone cares about the red light therapy the horses receive four times a week, or the hydrotherapy treadmill that helps them strengthen their muscles without strain. “Anyway, yeah, it's just phenomenal. I’m very lucky.”
“Foxleigh is Miles’s pride and joy. He puts all of his time and energy into it. I think that’s probably why he’s never had a girlfriend, so maybe that’s a bonus to you?—”
“Oh no,” I say quickly. “That’s not what’s happening here. Miles explained to you what's happening, right? That we couldn't get my visa quick enough, and this was the easiest option?”
If I sound flustered, it’s because I am, but Haven just smiles. “Alex explained to me, but I’m not sure I’d call marriage the easy option?—”
“I really wanted the opportunity to play.”
“I understand.” Haven nods. “I'm from Aspen. I was actually in the Polo Club when you nearly mowed him down . . .”
I cringe inwardlyandoutwardly. “Oh my God. I think I have impulse control issues. I shouldn't have done it.” In fact, I should make a note to myself for the future. Stop myself from doing more stupid stuff, like kissing him again.
“Hey, if you hadn't done it, you wouldn't be sitting here now.”
My brow furrows, urging her to explain further. Haven's eyes flick over, making sure Miles isn't within earshot, though I get the impression Miles and I have been the topic of discussion since I arrived here in England, not just this evening.
“I haven't known Miles all that long, but I’ve never seen anyone get under his skin the way you did. Nothing rattles Miles. Nothing fazes him. All he cares about is polo, so unless it's got to do with that, he just doesn't really show any enthusiasm. He's just happy being happy. And then you came along at New Year’s, and he completely flipped out.”
I can't imagine Miles being chill about anything. He’s passionate and forceful, determined and obsessive. The only bit she gets right is how he feels about polo. And I don’t get the chance to ask her what she means before Miles arrives, thrusting a drink at me.
“Hope you like gin and tonic.” His eyes bounce between Haven and me. “What are you two gossiping about?”
“Just you,” Haven replies, innocently.
“I doubt that. But I’m back now, so you can stop monopolizing my wife.”
Haven laughs, like she’s dealt with Miles’s shit for much longer than six months. “I’m not monopolizing anything. But I’ll leave you to your wife and go see what Alex is up to. Your mom will be here soon, too.”
“Where’s she been?”
“The rose garden with Holly.” Haven’s eyes flick to the big patio doors leading to the backyard, though backyard is an understatement. Like the view on the drive here, the backyard is fields and fields of freshly mown grass, split up by rose bushes and a very large sparkling pool. “Here they are.”
Two women are walking toward us, one I recognize from the photos on Miles’s walls, and who can only be his mom, especially when Max stops her in her stride to show her whatever he’s holding.
The other I recognize from elsewhere.
“She looks just like Holiday Simpson.”
Miles looks at me carefully. “ItisHoliday Simpson.”
“No, I mean the actress, she’s American.”
“Yes, Holiday is American. We’re becoming outnumbered in this family.” He snorts at his own joke, but I’m still on what he said to begin with.
My entire body twists toward him. “She’syour brother’s girlfriend?”
Miles nods.
“Are you telling me your brother Lando is marrying Holiday Simpson? The actress?” I press.
