“That’s why.”
“Unfortunately, they come with the territory as far as Miles goes,” she says, like it’s no big deal, and I shouldn’t be upset that the media want to know what’s going on with my life when I don’t know myself. “Anyway, where’s the usual resident of this establishment?” She leans back to read the nameplate on the door. “Maverick?”
“He’s having a massage.”
“Jesus. The horses here are looked after better than I look after myself,” Story grumbles. “Maybe we should move in.”
“I think that’s what I’m doing right now.” I sigh.
“No, we have bigger plans for you tonight,” Clementine declares, entering the stable and holding her hand out to me.
I perk up slightly. “I’m not very good company?—”
“Oh, you will be. Come on. We’re taking you out.” She grins. “Where’s Miles?”
“He’s in the office with Angus, doing his daily debrief on the points table and making sure we’re beating Santiago Torres.”
It’s a throwaway comment because that is what he is doing, but Clementine’s face loses all color.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “Miles is doing all he can to beat that bastard.”
“How do you know he’s a bastard?”
I frown a little at the harshness of her tone, but she’s probably just worried about Miles.
“Aren’t all polo players?” I laugh, but when Clementine joins in, it feels a touch strained.
“Where are you playing next?” asks Story, and I’m thankful for the interruption. I get the distinct feeling I’ve just upset Miles’s sister.
“Mostly Oxfordshire, where we have some one-day matches. Then the festival. After that, we’re in Hampshire for the week.”
The season’s only a few weeks old, but the Flyers are already dominating, thanks to Miles and his training sessions. I thoughtonce the matches started we’d ease up a little on the training, but it’s getting more grueling, Miles pushing us harder and harder.
I knowIcollapse into bed each night.
It’s not going to get easier either.
Clementine smiles, and I feel like I’ve been temporarily forgiven. “Well, let’s go and have some fun. We’re kidnapping you.”
“I should probably tell Miles?—”
“Nope.” She pulls out her phone and turns the screen my way. “We’ve taken care of it.”
Miles: Look after her. Drinks on me.
Warmth creeps over me as I read his words. “Well, I can’t argue with the boss.”
“I find it’s always best not to,” Story replies.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
“You’ll see.”
Ishould’ve pushed for more information.
Instead, I stare at the sign above the shop door:Agatha Chase’s Love Emporium
“What the heck is a love emporium?”
