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“She’s the best jumping horse I’ve ever ridden.” I crossed my arms, defending my 15-year-old Hanoverian.
“So, it’s your fault you didn’t place in the top six.” He accused.
I inhaled sharply, the tears threatening to fall. I spoke through tight lips. “Yes, Dad, my mistake cost me. But I still need a place for my horse.”
“Don’t you have a friend with a ranch where you can board it?”
My head spun with the decisions I needed to make. And quickly, apparently. “I guess so.”
Pam continued, “You can come work with me in the event planning office if you want to come back to San Diego. You always have such great ideas when it comes to promoting and planning.”
My eyes softened. “Thank you, Pam, but my home is here. My friends are here.” I turned my attention back to my dad. “Dad, is there a room here at the resort I can stay in until I figure this out?”
My dad finished his mimosa. “You’re strong, Camille. There’s a place for you in San Diego if you want to work for the franchise. Either that or you can talk to your brother about working at the resort.”
Anger bubbled up and out of me. I lowered my voice, trying to contain it. “Mach can do no wrong. Is that what this is about?” I took my napkin from my lap and threw it on the table. “The resort’s grown ever since Mach took over, but since I focused on riding, I’m being punished for not having a career. Being punished for following your dreams for me. And now that it hasn’t worked out, I’m no longer good enough.”
I pushed my chair back and stood. “Mach is the golden boy. The Stanford grad. The CEO. But not Camille. Camille choked, and now her prize horse won’t bring in any money.” The dining room had gone quiet. The wait staff stayed near the edges of the room. “I get it. I’ll be out. Maybe one day you’ll love me for me.”
I strode through the restaurant, into the resort hotel, and out through the lobby, holding my head high. I stopped in an alcove near the check-in desk and pressed my fingers against the sides of my forehead, willing myself not to cry. I’m a grown woman, and I’d just behaved exactly how my dad had expected me to: a spoiled child. I waited a few minutes for the adrenaline to leave my system so I could focus on what I should do next—besides getting my things out of my dad’s house.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When my emotions were under control, I stepped back into the lobby and walked toward the front doors.
The front desk clerk smiled as I walked past. “Have a nice day, Ms.Bradley.”
“Thank you, Emma.” I smiled and nodded as I continued walking.
I was glad my brother was away at a hospitality convention because I would have punched his smug face when he told me, “Sorry, sis, resort is full.”
In front of the entrance doors, the concierge asked, “Do you need a ride home, Ms.Bradley?”
“Not yet. Can someone take me to Brooks Outfitters instead?”
The concierge nodded and directed one of the valets to bring the Suburban around. He held the back door open as I climbed in, and then we drove the short distance to Brooks Outfitters, owned by my best friend, Mia Brooks and her brother, Jacob.
Jackson Square was overflowing with tourists. Parents dragged their hot, tired kids around to get pictures under the famous antler arches. College kids lounged in the coffee shops and bookstores on their day off as rafting guides or camp counselors. Everyone came for the perfect weather and left because of the biting cold winters. Each winter, a different crop of tourists. Die-hard extreme skiers and wealthy Hollywood types who wanted to prove they were more cowboy than their Aspen- or Vail- bound colleagues.
The driver stopped the SUV just outside the shop, and I stepped out onto a wooden planked sidewalk.
“Will you need a ride back, Miss?” he asked as he helped me.
“No, thank you. I’ll find a ride.” I’d ridden with my dad from the house to the resort restaurant; I’d find my own way back.
He nodded and left me standing under the Old West-style wood framed awning.
The cowbell above the door jangled as I entered. Cody, Mia and Jacob’s all-around, do-everything guy, was dressing a mannequin in cargo pants and a fleece jacket.
“What did you do wrong?” I asked him teasingly as I moved farther into the store.
He grunted.
A large gas firepit sat in the center of the store. I walked past it and sat on one of the three couches; it was my favorite place to sit as I read while Mia and Jacob worked during the winter. The thought shamed me. Maybe my dad was right.
“Hey, wookie, where’s your sister?” I asked Jacob who was working a few feet away from me at the sales counter.
He glared down at me as I innocently looked up at him from the couch. I didn’t shrink away, but his six-feet-four frame did cast a large shadow.
A man and his tween daughters were buying life vests and kayak paddles.
