Jacob
I sip my bourbon while trying hard to keep my cool as I listen to Miles Graham voicing his concerns.
“I’m not sure this is a sound investment. The real estate market has been slow. Besides that, I’d really recommend some kind of contract before you drop those kinds of funds into an employee’s account. Three million dollars is a lot of money.”
I take a deep breath before responding.
“To the best of my recollection, you are not my financial advisor nor my lawyer. If I wanted advice, I would have called one of them. You, however, are my banker, which is why I contacted you to transfer the funds. Now, if this is a problem, I can always take my business elsewhere.”
I dislike having to play that card, but I have better things to do with my time than spending it arguing with him about the way I choose to spend my money.
Of course, the threat had its desired effect, and Miles quickly assures me the transfer will not be an issue and he was simply looking out for my best interests.
As soon as the call ends, I hit replay on Opal’s live feed I recorded this morning. I still can’t believe it took her less than twenty-four hours to come up with something suitable.
The Four Oaks farm was a good find. It’s fairly new, built in place of the original farmhouse in 2011, and the stables were added at that time. Modern luxury without being ostentatious. It took me all of two minutes to decide, especially after finding out how private it is.
The farm is not why I’m replaying the feed, however. It’s the occasional views of Onyx as she moves in and out of focus while checking out the place.
Her gleaming, dark hair is loose, falling down her back and almost reaching the pronounced curve of her ass. I get occasional glimpses of a smile and the distinct, white streak in her hair, as she turns her head to look at Opal. She looks relaxed, seems comfortable moving through the rooms.
Yeah, Four Oaks suits her, which makes paying the slightly inflated price on the property well worth it. The fact the farm had been vacant for a few months already, and the owner was eager to unload it, meant they were agreeable to an accelerated process.
I pick up the phone and dial my lawyer, instructing him to draw up whatever paperwork is needed to facilitate a closing date less than a week from today. To his credit, the only question he asks when I tell him whose name should be on all paperwork, is whether I’m sure. A simple yes is enough, and he assures me he’ll have all documents ready by Friday.
Finally, I pull up Onyx’s number. She should be home by now.
She answers right away.
“I was just about to call you. I think you made a mistake.”
“How so?”
“I just got a notification from the bank. Why the hell are you sending me three million dollars? That’s almost a million too much.”
“You’re going to need it for the auction. This is about inserting yourself into the racing community. You can’t do that by sitting on the sidelines. You’ll need to have a vested stake in the game if you want anyone to believe you’re the real deal.”
“Is the auction a go? Because I haven’t heard anything yet.”
I probably should’ve let Hamish inform her of that, but the cat is out of the bag now.
“I’m sure he’ll call. I had him on the phone earlier to discuss his consultancy fee when he mentioned about the auction.”
“Shouldn’t I be discussing his fee with him? I thought you were letting me manage Hamish.”
Shit. I did tell her it was up to her how much she wanted to involve him.
“You’re right,” I admit grudgingly. “Call it force of habit. Although, he may not think anything of it since he seems to think we’re an item. He asked me as much.”
“And… I trust you disavowed him of that notion, correct?”
I love it when she gets on her high horse. Her tone becomes brisk and haughty, and even though I can’t see her, I just know her nose is up in the air.
She has no idea how sexy she sounds.
“I felt it was more useful to leave him guessing. In case he gets any ideas.”
“You are my boss, not my father, or my social convenor, Jacob.”
For once it’s she who abruptly ends the call.
I guess I must have pissed her off.
I lean back in my chair, lift my feet on the desk, and hit replay on my phone. I feel a smile pulling at my mouth when I catch a glimpse of her flowing hair on my screen.
Onyx
“Here. Try these.”
I take the fistful of hangers and close the curtain.
I’m not a fan of shopping but there was no holding back Janey—our resident fashionista—when Kate told me once again I needed new clothes.
Janey wasted no time dragging me to Cincinnati, where “…all the good stores are.” My feet are sore from tagging behind her up and down Vine Street, hitting every designer boutique in our path. She is not showing any signs of stopping so I’m going to have to put an end to this torture. Soon.
“Don’t we already have a pair of black pants?” I ask her, holding up what looks to be a pair of black jeans.
“Those are dressy, these are casual. Try them on.”
I roll my eyes at her curt response. Hardly the most mature reaction, but it relieves my frustration a bit. Although Janey’s bossiness isn’t the only thing annoying me. There appears to be plenty getting on my nerves the past day or two.
That’s not me. I’m normally even-keeled and not usually flustered, or stressed, and I rarely get bent out of shape over something. I’m supposed to be the calm one, the peacemaker, but I can feel it won’t take much to set me off.
This assignment is wreaking havoc on my inner balance.
“Janey, this is the last pile of clothes I’m trying on. No more, I’m done.”
I wait for her objection, but she surprises me.
“Fair enough. I have to get home anyway. Lee is on his way to pick up Ricky for a visit and I still have to get the guest room ready.”
Ricky is a teenage boy, from an abusive home, Janey and Lee befriended when they were investigating a youth nature program not too long ago. Thanks to their intervention, Ricky is now living in a good foster home, but Janey and Lee stay in regular contact.
The last item I try are the jeans, and they fit like a glove when I slip them on. I add them to the pile hanging over the door of the dressing room.
“That’s the last of the yesses,” I tell her.
“Okay, you get dressed and I’ll get them to start ringing these up.”
I’m hopping on one leg, trying to get my jeans on, when my phone rings. I give up on the jeans, dig the phone out of my bag, and check the screen.
It’s Hamish calling.
About time, I was starting to wonder if he changed his mind about helping me. I’ve been tempted to call him a few times, but am glad I restrained myself.
“Hamish.”
He comes back with, “Onyx,” amusement clear in his tone.
It irks me a little.
I put the phone on speaker, set it down on the bench, and start putting on my jeans.
“What is it I can do for you?”
“Nothing right now, but you may want to free up your calendar for a week from Saturday. We have an invitation for the Gilded Bridle.”
There’s a load of expectation in the silence that follows his announcement, and I’d look like an ungrateful bitch if I didn’t respond with gratitude. So, I swallow down my bad mood and plaster on a smile.
“That is brilliant news. Where is it going to take place?”
“Drake Stables, it’s about fifteen miles south of Bowling Green, and belongs to—”
“Peter Drake. Yes, I’ve heard of him. His horse won the Kentucky Derby four or five years ago? What was it? Bourbon Belle?”
“You did your homework. Yeah, that’s him. I was wondering if you have some time this coming weekend to go over the auction catalog and do some strategizing?”
“Actually, I’m moving into my new place this weekend. I found a horse farm not far from Williamstown with immediate availability,” I share, grabbing my bag and stepping out of the dressing room. “It has beautiful stables and even an exercise track.”
“Wow. You don’t mess around. Well, I’d love to see the place, make sure you have everything you need, because with a bit of luck you may be coming home with a horse or two in the very near future.”
Yikes. He makes a good point.
I know very little about horses or their needs. I suppose I’ll need a stable hand or something, and of course I can do some research myself, but it would be nice to know I at least have what I need. Even though this is only a temporary setup, it has to be a credible operation.
Here I thought I was on top of things, but I’m suddenly feeling woefully unprepared.
“That might not be a bad idea,” I consider.
“How about the use of an extra pair of hands this weekend? I can help with the move, check out the facility, and we may be able to find some time to sit down and go over the auction.”
“Who is that?” Janey mouths when I join her at the cash register.
“Hamish,” I whisper with my hand covering the phone.
My instinct is to check with Jacob, but I may not always have time to run things by him first. I’m going to have to start calling some shots myself.
Taking my credit card, I slide it across the counter to the store clerk.
“You know, it was just a thought,” Hamish backtracks.
He clearly took my prolonged silence as rejection.
“No-no, I…uh…I actually think it’s a good idea,” I quickly set him straight.
The clerk turns the handheld terminal to me, and I suck in a deep breath when I see the amount displayed. I hold up a finger, asking her to wait a moment.
“Hamish? I’m just finishing up something here, but I’ll send you the address and you can let me know when you think you’ll be there.”
“Of course. We’ll be in touch,” he agrees and ends the call.
Tucking my phone back in my purse, I focus my attention on the bill.
“Six thousand dollars?”
“Five thousand eight hundred and seventy-three fifty, to be precise,” Janey corrects me, reading the amount off the terminal.
“For a pair of black jeans and a few tops?”
I scan the contents of the two large shopping bags on the counter.
“Actually, you have those same jeans in olive green, then there’s the plum pencil skirt, and the silk watercolor kimono,” the clerk contributes, listing items I distinctly recall dropping on the reject pile.
When I toss Janey a look, she shrugs her shoulders.
“You asked for my help for a reason, and you need those in your wardrobe,” she states unapologetically.
I don’t even bother reminding her she’s the one who insisted I needed her expertise. It’ll go in one ear and out the other anyway. It’s probably less painful just giving in and paying.
Resigned, I nod at the store clerk.
“Ring it up.”
Ten minutes later I get into the passenger side of Janey’s Traverse and kick off my shoes.
“So…this Hamish…what do you really know about him?” Janey asks as we wind our way out of the parking garage.
“Not much, other than he’s a horse trainer from Canada, but Jacob knows him. Called him a brother-in-arms.”
“Sounds like they served together. I wondered if Branch could be military or former military.”
I glance over at her. “It’s possible. I’m sure that’s where the term came from, but I’ve also heard it used simply to describe good friends.”
“Still, do you think giving him your new home address is wise?”
I bite off a grin. How times have changed.
I’ve always been the cautious one, taken on the protective older-sister role, so this is a new experience.
“It’s not like I intend to date him, Janey. He is part of my cover.”
I feel her gaze on me and turn my head to meet her eyes.
“But do you trust him?”
Do I?
I know Jacob does, and I don’t believe for a second he’d ever put me in harm’s way. Besides, no red flags go up for me when I interact with him, and I’m generally a good judge of character.
My gut tells me Hamish is safe.