“It’s really a matter of aesthetics. The view from here is better than mine so I’m taking the room.”
He stared at her, waiting for a response. She thought he looked eager.
“Well, I hope you enjoy the panorama,” A.J. said, getting off the bed and picking up the garment bag and boots. “I know I always did.”
When she tried to get past him, he blocked her way.
“That’s it?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re just leaving?”
“It’s more appealing than arguing with you.”
“It never has been before.”
“Is that the real reason you did this? Were you looking for a fight?”
“No. But I expected one.”
There was a long pause.
“So?” he prompted. “You have anything to say to me?”
“No. I really don’t.”
His eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong with you?”
“You think there’s something wrong with me because I don’t want to argue?”
“It’s hardly the A.J. I’ve known and loved,” he said sarcastically.
“So things have changed.”
“Oh, I get it. Your horizons are opening up. You’re a new woman. I guess McCloud’s been teaching you there’s something more than the missionary position, right?”
A.J. winced. “When you say things like that, it really hurts my feelings. In fact, a lot of our arguments have hurt. Both of us.”
Peter fell silent and she thought she saw a flicker of something other than anger and frustration in his face. That reflected pain was something she recognized in her own heart. She decided to take a chance and reach out to him.
“Peter, when was the last time you did something you really loved?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re not happy at the stables,” she said, putting her bag and boots down. “You never have been.”
“Just because I don’t think horse manure is a perfume doesn’t mean I’m not good at my job. Or have you forgotten the little promotion your father gave me?”
“I didn’t say you weren’t good at what you do. I just think it’s a hell of a way to spend your life, trapped in a job you hate.”
“What does this have to do with your bedroom? And I’m not trapped!”
“I think it has everything to do with this. You seem so unhappy.” A.J. shook her head. “Do you know how much I love getting up in the morning? I can’t wait to get down to the stables, to smell the hay and hear the sounds of hooves in the stalls. I wake up every morning thankful I’m getting a chance to live my dream and I go to bed every night, even if I’ve failed in the daylight hours, looking forward to doing it again. I can’t imagine what it would be like to trudge through the day, hating every minute.”
Peter snorted, and she watched his frustration boil up and escape through his fingertips as he began agitating coins in his pocket and drumming on the doorjamb.
“This isn’t going to work,” he muttered. “You’re not going to sweet-talk some revelation out of me that you can use later. I’ve been running a tight ship down at the stables. I’ve turned those giant hamsters into profit for your father. He may have you up on a pedestal but he’s got me in the driver’s seat and I intend to keep it that way.”
“I don’t want to run Sutherland’s. I’m a rider, not a businessman. Besides, you’re fantastic at what you do.”
Her stepbrother stopped fidgeting.
“What the hell’s turned you into Glinda the Good Witch?”
“Let’s just say it’s a change in priorities. Not that I haven’t enjoyed bickering with you all these years on some level. Painful as it’s been, we’ve gotten off some real good ones.”
He managed a short laugh. “We sure have.”
“Peter, I don’t know if we’ll ever be friends but I know this: I’m ready to stop being enemies.”
He stared at her for a long time and she knew he was measuring her, weighing her new words against their long past.
“Talk to me,” she urged. “For once in our lives, let’s just talk.”
Peter looked around her room, dwelling on the boxes with her trophies and ribbons. “You were supposed to be gone when I moved in here.”
“You’re right. I should have taken my things out. I don’t live here anymore—”
“No, after their wedding.”
A.J. frowned.
“Before my mother remarried, she asked me what I thought of Garrett. I liked him a lot and I told her I wanted him, so when she walked down the aisle, I assumed she was doing it to bring him to me. I figured you’d go away so I could have what was mine. Imagine my surprise when I took up residence and you were still around. God, I hated living in the same house with you. You were the perfect student, the perfect daughter, the perfect everything. You rode well, sang well, wrote well. Not only didn’t I get the undivided attention I figured was part of the bargain, but I had to compete with a damn superhero.”
“But you did well in school,” she said, amazed.
“Not like you did. I’ve never done anything as well as you did.”
“That’s not true. You’ve run the stables—”
“I do the ledger but you’re the leader.” He laughed harshly. “You’ve always been the leader. I can remember, in the early days, I’d go down to the stables and see everyone looking at you with respect. You were half the age of those champions and yet they knew you were special. Everyone’s always known you were special. Even my mother.”
“Your mother despises me.”
“Only because Garrett loves a dead woman more than her. My mother’s never been her husband’s true love and never will be.”
“But they’ve been together a long time. I know he loves her.”
“Your father has one room in this house that’s his. Whose portrait is on the wall?” Peter shoved his hands into his pockets. “And as for you, you’re the spitting image of a rival she can never beat. But that hasn’t kept her from using you against me. Sometimes I think she likes you more than me.”
“Peter, your mother adores you. She’s always singing your praises.”
“In public, yes. Privately, she’s more likely to be nailing me to the wall and you’ve been her favorite hammer. All those trophies”—he pointed to the boxes—“every last one of them has been pounded into me. I know every score, every triumph over the odds, every facile maneuver you’ve ever made. I used to pray you’d fail just so I could stop hearing about it all. That woman has held me up to your gold standard since the day I first met you and I’ve hated you for it.”