“I won twenty-seven fifty last night at the bingo parlor!”
“That’s quite a haul, old man,” Devlin said smoothly.
His eyes were on A.J. as she bent down and picked up her toiletry bag. He couldn’t wait until the day was over and they could be alone again. He was also feeling good about the prospects for his replacement. Up in the shower, he’d reviewed the trainers and stables he respected and there were at least two viable candidates he wanted to invite over to meet with A.J. He was certain they could find her another trainer soon and that her work with the stallion wouldn’t be interrupted significantly.
“So’s breakfast ready yet?” Chester asked.
“It will be when we make it.”
As the two headed into the kitchen, Devlin sent her a wink over his shoulder and A.J. blushed. By the time she came back down, they were at the table. Chester, between spoonfuls of cereal, was leafing through the paper.
“Well, will ya get a load a’ this.”
With a ruffle and a snap, he folded the newspaper in half and pushed it across to Devlin. A.J. glanced over at it.
Taking up almost the full page was a picture of the two of them together, taken just before she went into the ring the day before. Devlin’s hand was on her cheek and their eyes were locked. She remembered the moment vividly, and, looking at the photograph, she saw the bond between them was as powerful as it was obvious.
“Oh, God,” she groaned.
The headline read SUTHERLAND BEAUTY TAKES UP WITH FALLEN CHAMPION. The article that followed was a combination of speculation, rumor and innuendo. Quotes from various competitors were used to inflame her purchase of the stallion, her split with her family and their relationship.
“What are we going to do?” she wondered aloud.
Devlin got to his feet, his chair scraping across the floor.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” he said darkly. “As soon as you and the stallion leave here, it’ll all die down and the reporter will look ridiculous for making a big deal out of nothing. We’ll just put up with it until the end of the week.”
“End of the week?”
“I think I can have a couple of trainers come by tomorrow. We can pick the one who works best and transport the stallion to his new stable ASAP.”
A.J.’s voice cut through the kitchen. “I already have a trainer.”
Devlin frowned.
Chester said, “I better get on down to the barn.”
Neither of them noticed as the man left and took his breakfast bowl with him.
“A.J., I thought we agreed on this.”
“I told you last night. I want you. I need you.”
“And you agreed to choose.”
“I did. I need all of you.”
He started shaking his head. “Wait a minute. I was very clear about what I wanted.”
“So was I.”
“I assumed we made love last night because you were going to go with another trainer.”
“And I told you I wasn’t.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did.”
They squared off across the table.
“I don’t recall hearing those precise words come out of your mouth.”
Her eyes implored him. “Look, we can make it work. We can do both.”
Devlin cursed, wrenched his hands through his hair in frustration. “I never would have been with you if I’d known this was what you were thinking.”
His words and the regret in his voice brought tears to her eyes.
“A.J., for God’s sake, please don’t cry. I’m sorry it came out like that.” He went to her and tried to hug her but she pushed him away.
“So am I. I’m sorry you have so little faith in us.”
“This isn’t just about us.” He picked up the paper, only to toss it aside with contempt. “Everyone’s going to read this crap.”
“Why do you care so much about what some idiot prints in the newspaper?”
“You’ve got no idea what it’s like to be the topic of conversation. I’ve spent the past year being whispered about and stared at. Any room I walk into, the murmuring starts up. And my notoriety isn’t even prurient. I fell off a goddamn horse. They’ll have you in bed with any man you talk to or look at for the rest of your career.”
“Well, thanks for the heads-up,” she said, wiping away angry tears, “but I’m not rearranging my life just because someone else doesn’t like the way it looks from the outside.”
“You want to be like Philippe Marceau? He’s the laughingstock of the circuit because he’s been with so many people. As a woman, it’s going to be worse. They’ll rip you up and use the pieces as fertilizer.”
“Marceau is a topic of conversation because he’s a conceited blowhard.”
“And you’ve got your own liabilities.”
“What? People know I can’t do long division in my head? My closet life as a comic-book addict suddenly comes out?”
“There may be a lot of money in the horse business but not a lot of folks have their daddy build them a stable compound. Your stepbrother looks like he belongs on the cover of GQ and his attitude stinks. You tool around in a convertible that costs more than most people’s mortgages and—”
“So I can’t be with the man I want and the trainer I need because Peter’s into fashion and my father went over the top for my birthday? That’s ludicrous.”
“I’m just telling you what people will say.”
“And I refuse to buy into the talk.”
“But that’s my point. They’re already saying you’re trying to buy your way to the top. You want them to add you’re sleeping your way up, too?”
His frank challenge slapped the fight right out of her.
“Listen,” Devlin said more quietly, “I’ve got to tell you like it is. The higher the profile you have, the more you serve as target practice. Who your family is and buying that stallion aren’t exactly making you blend in with the crowd. Sleeping with your trainer isn’t going to help.”
He approached her again, and this time she let him put an arm around her.
“A.J., competing at the highest level is tough. Don’t add to the burdens.”
“Are you sure that’s the only reason you want me to go?” she asked.
“I don’t want you to go. That’s the whole point of getting someone else to train you. Someone who can be objective.”