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“God, no. I usually cover yacht parties and castle restorations. I’m honestly perplexed as to why my editor sent me to some farm out in the middle of nowhere. It feels like a bit of a colossal joke,” Simone says as she looks around at the ranch, her face fixed in an expression of utter disdain. I can see it in Parrish’s eyes; if Gracie weren’t in her arms, she’d have words for this judgmental princess standing on her front porch.
“Well then. You should especially love your accommodations, since you’re sleeping over the garage! It’s not a castle, but I love it. Still, I’m sure you’ll find a way to stick your nose up at it. Now, if you’ll excuse me. It’s time for Gracie’s nap, and I have some calls to make.”
Parrish turns around and walks back into the house, leaving me to enjoy the awkwardness she’s left behind. Simone turns to me, her eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to offend her.”
I snort. “Really? You could have fooled me. It seemed like you were trying really hard to do just that.”
“I really wasn’t. I’m so used to Los Angeles people. I guess I didn’t realize that people out in the country were so sensitive.”
Holy shit, everything this woman says is elitist garbage. “Okay then. Why don’t we get you set up in the carriage house? And then we’ll find you some food. Maybe getting that blood sugar up will improve your disposition.”
She doesn’t catch the dig, thank goodness. I pile on all of her luggage like a pack mule, and we make our way to the carriage house. She totters up the stairs, grumbling the whole way about the fact that there is no elevator, while I pant behind her, struggling to get her bags up without dropping anything, which I’m sure will incite some sort of rage. When we get to the top of the stairs, I head straight for the bedroom, and, quietly, drop everything on the floor, hoping she won’t notice my act of subtle rebellion. I walk back out, and Simone is walking around, inspecting everything. She runs her finger across the counter, like she’s checking it for dust. I have to bite my lip as she tsk-tsks.
“This is adequate, I suppose. Small, but adequate. Is that second room an office, by chance?” she asks, looking at the closed door.
“No,” I answer, adamantly shaking my head. “That’s my niece?
??s room. There is really no reason for you to go in there.” I suddenly feel bad enough as it is, that Parrish had to give up her home for this. I don’t want Simone poking around through Gracie’s things too.
“Fair enough. Well, if you don’t mind, I think I will get settled, and look for my trainers, so I don’t fall in any… what did Parrish say? ‘Horse shit’?”
I laugh and run my hand through my hair. “Yeah, she’s something.”
“Indeed,” Simone answers, haughtily.
Once again, I have to bite my tongue not to say something rude. Instead, I just turn around and make my way outside. Once I am safely out of earshot, I mutter, “Holy shit,” under my breath and kick the ground.
This is going to be a long damn month.
Chapter 13
Parrish
“She said what?” Anna asks, as she uses a pitchfork to chuck a huge clump of wet hay into a pile she’s been accumulating outside of the stable. Her hair is piled on top of her head in a tight bun, and her forehead is soaked in sweat despite the chill in the air. I pick up a shovel and start helping her muck out the stall, though my act of kindness is more about working out some of my rage on the hay.
“That being here is a ‘colossal joke.’ She kept calling it a ‘farm.’ And she treated Gracie like she was a flesh-eating bacteria. I have no idea how I am going to put up with her for a month, Anna. She’s a frigging princess.”
Anna snorts. “Hawk should know how to deal with her, then.”
I stop shoveling and stare at Anna, perplexed. “What does that mean?”
Anna doesn’t stop tossing hay out of the stable. “Nothing, Parrish. Just that, you have to figure these are the kind of women Hawk is around all of the time out in Los Angeles. Let me guess? She was stumbling around on the gravel in her red-bottomed shoes, her clothes cost more than my first car, and her highlights were just so perfect but obviously meant to look not perfect at all?”
“So, you saw here then?” I say with a scowl.
Anna laughs. “No, but I can guess. You also don’t spend as much time at the riding competitions, and you haven’t been to the Grand Prix in years. A lot of these upper-class, Real Housewives types show up just to be seen, while looking down their noses at those of us who work there, or ride professionally. Unless, of course, you’re a good-looking rich boy, like my brothers. You just watch. She’s going to be sweet as pie to Hawk, and maybe daddy, but she’s going to treat you and me like garbage. The faster you accept it and the fact that it doesn’t matter, the easier it will be to ignore her for the next month.”
I harrumph and start stabbing at the hay with the end of the shovel, until there is nothing left but a pile of mushy, wet grossness. Anna looks over at me and shakes her head.
“You’re cleaning that up.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I answer as I start shoveling it out the stable doors.
After a few hours spent with Anna in the stables, getting the stalls ship-shape in case Princess Simone decides to photograph them, I make my way back over to the ranch house to check on Gracie. Candy has been looking after her, since it’s not a pre-school day, and I technically need to be making calls to the company that is going to be outfitting the new stables with the tech advancements. I stop outside of the side door that leads into the kitchen and start kicking the mud and muck off my boots, sending it flying everywhere. Suddenly, I hear a high-pitched shriek from behind me. I turn around, and there is Simone, with a huge wad of mud and who knows what else, right in the middle of her chest, and on her face. My first instinct is to laugh, and I have to fight it back.
“I didn’t see you there,” I say as I bite my lip.
“Obviously!” she shouts. “This is a couture top! Do you have any idea…”
