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“Well, we slept together...once,” he said.
“You know Mark, I’m no expert on relationships, but sleeping together is a big deal.”
Maybe I should ask Mark as to whether he had a pre-coital discussion with Jenna prior to doing the dirty deed to make sure that his bases were covered. How could I possibly lecture Mark on something like this when I'd signed up and agreed to be someone’s fuck-buddy, no strings attached?
“I’ll talk to her again, one-on-one,” he said.
“I think that's the right thing to do.”
We got busy with our practice. The morning flew by. We broke for lunch, and watched our training videos while we ate. I stayed to review the videos one more time. We planned to meet back in the arena at 1:30 but at that time the sky was extremely dark; the sound of thunder wasn't that far off in the distance. We stood in the arena and scanned the sky.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“I think that by the time you get Derringer back over to the stables, the sky will be ready to cut loose,” Mark answered. We agreed to call it a day and meet back in the morning.
I was preparing to remount Derringer to ride the trail back to the stable when I spotted Trey standing by the arena gate. So he was back. He looked as gorgeous as ever in a navy suit and white dress shirt. His tie was a blend of dark blue and grey. For a moment my heart fluttered, thinking that he was here to see me, to tell me that he’d missed me, and that everything had just been a big misunderstanding. I realized then that he wasn't here to see me. He called Mark over to talk with him.
I looked beyond Trey, up past the open gate to the arena. There stood Charlotte, dressed in a peach colored shift, white sandal heels, and a white wide-brimmed summer hat. She was waiting for Trey; apparently they had plans. I stood frozen, not wanting to walk past Trey and certainly not wanting to let Charlotte get the best of me. I wondered if she'd ever known about Trey and me. Past tense now, I thought. Did it even matter?
Whatever business Trey had with Mark did not take long. Trey turned without giving me so much as a glance, and walked back up to the gate, to Charlotte who was patiently waiting for her man. She smiled as he approached and reached out to brush a speck of lint off his lapel. Trey closed the gate behind him, imprinting the image of the two of them on my mind for eternity. I hadn’t noticed Mark approach me.
“Hey, it was great working with you, Tylar,” he said.
“What?” I asked, confused.
“It appears my services are no longer required here. I’ve been relieved of my duties, effective immediately. I was just informed by the top man himself.”
“No! What—why?” I stammered, trying to understand.
“I was given no detailed explanation, but if I had to guess, I'd say he heard about our kiss last week.”
“How?”
“How do you think?”
“Jenna?” I said.
“Bingo,” Mark replied, sardonically. “I gotta get packed up. Take care, Tylar.”
This couldn't be happening. I was in shock on a couple of fronts. This wasn't fair to Mark at all. I felt like I needed to do something. I needed to talk to Trey but that was impossible with Charlotte around. I'd try later. He could be reasoned with, unless I'd totally misjudged him.
I led Derringer over to the stables just as the skies cut loose. I couldn’t stop thinking about Mark. All he'd been was a friend to me. My anger was with Jenna right now. I needed to lash out at someone. She was the most deserving of it. Then I remembered she wouldn’t be off of work yet. That’s fine; I'd wait for her.
I went back to my cottage to wait for her to get off work, generally by 4:30 every afternoon. When the time came, I peered out of my bedroom window to get a view of Jenna’s cottage. There were no lights on yet. About 30 minutes later, the rain had died down to a drizzle. I put my flip-flops on and grabbed my keys, locking my cottage as I strode to Jenna’s cabin. There was still no light on inside, but I pounded on her door anyway. I waited for a few seconds, and then pounded again. There was no answer.
I left her porch and I walked up the gravel drive to where the pavement started. I couldn’t tell if Trey was home. I marched up the concrete steps to the massive front porch and rang the bell. Moments later, Thatcher appeared, poorly masking his surprise.
“Hi Thatcher,” I greeted, warmly, “Is Trey available?”
Thatcher was extremely uncomfortable, shifting his weight as he stood. I heard footsteps behind him on the tiled floor.
“That’s okay, Thatcher, I have this,” Trey said, now in plain view. Thatcher looked grateful to take his leave.
“Thatcher, please see if Charlotte needs a refill.”
“Yes sir,” he answered disappearing into the dining room.
“May I help you, Ms. Preston?”
