by Elle Thorpe
The kettle finally boiled, and I made my coffee in a travel mug. A big one, adding extra sugar because it was that sort of morning. Taking my coffee with me, I headed for the sliding glass door that led to the balcony.
My apartment sat opposite the sprawling Lavender Fields properties, so I had a great view from my vantage point on the third floor. The racetrack itself was situated farthest away from me, with a large stable area, warm-up tracks, and the buildings I now worked in lined up beside it. Closer to my apartment was their breeding and training property. Green grass paddocks, white fences, and an array of buildings occupied the space; a tall fence running the perimeter of the whole thing.
I checked my watch and smiled. I had time to see Mabel. Grabbing my shoes from where I’d kicked them off last night, I locked my apartment door behind me. Increasing my pace, I emerged onto the street, then slipped through a gap in the tall fencing I’d found on my first day living here. I’d been sneaking through the gap almost every day since.
They kept the valuable horses, the ones that would race later that day or next week, close to the track. Out here on the edge of the property, it was quiet, the paddocks home to a handful of older horses.
I clicked my tongue and smiled as I watched Mabel’s velvety grey ears prick up. Her name wasn’t actually Mabel. I had no idea what her name was; it’s not like they’d etched it into the wood of her paddock fence. But I thought she looked like a Mabel. She was an ex racehorse for sure; she was the perfect shape for it. They’d likely put her out here to breed, though I had yet to see her belly swell with a foal. She tossed her head, her silky black mane flowing in the air like a shampoo ad model, and trotted over.
“Hey, Mabel,” I mumbled, reaching up to stroke the side of her face. She nuzzled her nose into my hand and snorted. I laughed. “Yeah, yeah, you know I brought you a treat.” I produced a few bits of cut up carrot I’d grabbed when I made my coffee, and she snatched them from my palm with a speedy flick of tongue and teeth. I rarely made myself food at home, but I always had fresh carrots to feed to Mabel.
“Greedy this morning, aren’t you?” I took a deep breath in. The familiar smell of horse, grass, and fresh air was better than any hangover remedy. Mabel stood there patiently, letting me stroke her. Letting me just be. That was the best thing about animals. They knew when to just be there, their presence alone comforting.
“I really blew it last night, Mabel.” I looked up into the deep brown depths of her eyes. “I need this job. I want it.” I smiled as she sniffed at my hair. “You think he’s going to stuff it up for me, girl?” She tossed her head from side to side, trying to escape the early spring flies that were already hanging around. I took it as a positive sign, though. “Yeah, maybe he’ll be cool. If I can be cool after being humiliated like that, then there’s no reason he shouldn’t be, huh?”
Mabel just blinked at me before walking off to chew at some grass. I watched her for a moment longer before making my way back through the gap.
I tried to shake my melancholy mood. I both loved and hated how much Lavender Fields reminded me of home. I was so drawn to the place—had rented this apartment for the sole reason I’d be able to see horses every day. And when this job had come up, I hadn’t been able to stop myself from applying. But the reminders of everything I’d lost were like a collection of cuts on my skin. Some shallow, some so deep I could see the bone.
I finished my now-cold coffee as I made my way around the fence. The paddocks disappeared behind the buildings, and the racetrack entrance came into view. Nodding at entry security, I pushed through the turnstiles and made my way over to the bar. A hand grabbed my arm and spun me around before I’d even made it the whole way through the bar door. I jumped.
“Oh my God, I’m sorry,” Bianca said in a rush as I threw a glance over my shoulder, while I tried to calm my thumping heart. For a second, I’d thought she was Low.
“I didn’t mean to scare you, but I’m so glad you’re here before the boys!”
I scanned the room. She was right, we were alone.
“So, how was it? Tell me everything!” she squealed and clapped her hands together.
“Excuse me?” I was having trouble following her, she spoke so fast.
“You and Low! Was it amazing? I’ve always thought he’d be amazing in bed.”
Ohhhh. I’d forgotten we hadn’t been discreet in our flirting. The entire bar crew probably knew what we’d intended to do last night. I wasn’t shy about telling people about my sex life, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell Bianca about how Low had ditched me. That was embarrassing. So, I stalled. “Does that mean you haven’t slept with him?”
Bianca flicked her hand, dismissing my question. “Nope. I had a boyfriend when I first started working here, and by the time we broke up, Low and I were firmly in the friend zone. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t wondered if he’s any good in the sack. And he only ever hooks up with randoms at the bar that we never end up seeing again. It’s not like I’ve ever been able to ask one of them.” She looked me up and down. “So, come on, let me live vicariously through you because I haven’t had sex in months.” She pulled a face, and I couldn’t help but laugh. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet, looking at me like an eager puppy. “Quick, tell me before the boys get here.”
I shook my head. “There’s nothing to tell. Honest. Nothing happened.”
She tilted her head and stared at me with disbelief. “Yeah, right, I saw the way you two were eyeing each other. I figured I’d better leave before he started making out with you on the bar top.”
Heat rose to my cheeks. Was I blushing? For God’s sake, Reese, stop. Just stop. “I swear, we didn’t have sex. He had…uh… Something came up and he had to leave.”
She frowned. Maybe she believed me this time. We both looked over at the door when it opened, and Riley and Jamison appeared. I breathed a sigh of relief as Riley began an animated retelling of last night’s football game, complete with a tackling demonstration on Jamison. Bianca turned her attention to him, and I scampered away to find my apron before she could ask any more questions I didn’t want to think about.
Low didn’t show up for work that day. Or the next.
I’d been self-conscious when he hadn’t shown up the first day, but that had quickly turned to relief. We’d been so busy with the weekend rush of customers, I hadn’t had time to consider his absence as much. But as we moved into the new week, the races weren’t as popular, and that left me with more time to think.
Jamison had told us he’d left a message on his voice mail, saying he was sick. The others all seemed to buy it, but I wasn’t so sure. A whole week off because of an awkward sexual encounter was a bit excessive, though. Maybe he was just sick. Maybe his absence had nothing to do with me. As the week went on and he continued to not show up, I thought about it less and less. I was having a great time working with Jamison, Riley, and Bianca, and not having Low there to complicate things was actually kind of a relief.
So, it was a kick to the stomach when I showed up for work on Saturday and he was the first person I saw.
6
Reese
“Hi.”
His voice was so quiet I barely heard him. I wasn’t sure how to react. Should I still be angry about the way he left? Should I ask him if he was feeling better? Should I give him the cold shoulder? My anger had had time to dissipate over the week, and although I wanted to ask him what had happened, I was also desperate to just forget about the whole thing. So, I settled for echoing his greeting with my own lacklustre, “hi.”
He shut the door behind me. I went out the back to the kitchen area, and he went to the front to serve. I leant back against the stainless-steel bench and took a deep breath, trying to steady the nerves that had exploded in my belly. Bianca glanced over at me. “Do you want me to serve today?”
I shook my head, pasting on a fake smile and trying to look cheerful. “No, I’m fine. I’ll go.”
She shrugged at me. “If y
ou’re sure...”
I nodded and dawdled my way out to the serving area. I didn’t want to be out here. It would have been much easier to hide out the back, clean tables and wash dishes, but I couldn’t let him think his presence bothered me. And it didn’t. I just wasn’t sure how to act around him. I’d never been dumped in the middle of a one-night stand before. I wasn’t sure what the protocol was for such a situation.
The front gates hadn’t opened yet, but they would any minute now, and we’d be inundated with customers. I found myself a place on the bar between Jamison and Low, and waited.
“Reese?” The deep gravel of Low’s voice coursed through me.
I sighed. “Yeah?”
He looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes, and gone was the deliberate two-day stubble from last week. He looked like he hadn’t shaved at all while he was off. I guessed maybe he had been sick.
He paused, his eyes flicking over my shoulder. “The gates are open.” He went quiet as we watched the wave of customers, flowing in a steady stream.
“Looks like it’s going to be busy.”
“Yeah.”
Wow. We were awesome at the whole conversation thing this morning, weren’t we? God, we’d made this awkward.
The crowds had been big this week, with the Spring Carnival officially kicking off. It had sucked to be down a team member; we’d all been run off our feet without Low. But weekday crowds had nothing on the weekend racegoers. My line was long. Low’s was too. Not because of his flirting today; it just seemed that neither of us was moving very quickly. Jamison was the only one keeping us afloat.
I tried to refocus and lose myself in the repetitive work. But I was acutely aware of Low’s every move. His gaze was a laser beam, burning me every time our eyes accidentally met. We should have talked before shift. Our personal problems were making us distracted. I’d already spilt three drinks and dropped a glass, smashing it into shards. And I’d heard Low get more than one order wrong. People were getting impatient with us.
“Three beers and a bourbon on the rocks, please,” a cute young guy at the head of my line said.
“No problem.” I reached down to grab a beer glass, finding the rack empty. I smiled at him. “Just gotta grab more glasses. Hang tight for a second, okay?”
“Fine.”
I winced. He’d already waited ten minutes at least.
I jogged to the kitchen area and grabbed a tray of glasses fresh out of the dishwasher.
“What’s up with Low today?” Riley asked as I passed by.
“Um, nothing?” I stopped, the tray in my arms shaking a little.
“He’s quiet.”
“Is he?” I didn’t know what to say. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Very quiet,” Bianca chimed in, her brow wrinkling with concern. “I’ve never seen him so subdued.”
“Well, I don’t know. You both know him better than I do.” The words came out sharper than I’d intended. “Why don’t you just ask him?” I grabbed my glasses and made my way back to my customer.
“What’s up with her today?” Riley asked Bianca, but I didn’t hear her reply.
Guilt washed over me. I’d need to apologise to Bianca and Riley later. And I needed to be more professional. I poured my beers, trying to be friendly to my irritated customer, without being flirty.
Now that they’d pointed it out, I realised Riley and Bianca were right. Something was definitely wrong with Low. I could have put it down to the drama between the two of us, but it wasn’t just me he was awkward with. The Low from last week, and the guy in front of me now were like two different people. This Low was quiet—taking orders and pouring drinks, but gone was the flirty chit chat, the confidence, and the constant banter.
The afternoon passed in much the same way. Low regained none of the spark he’d had a week before, and I caught the concerned glances Jamison threw his way. At one point, Jamison had a break in his line, and he went over to help Low. I watched them talking, their heads leaning in close, but I couldn’t catch what they were saying. Anyway, it wasn’t my business. It’s not like Low and I were friends.
Low had just finished balancing the till, and Jamison and I were restocking for the next day, when Riley came out from the kitchen and slung an arm around Low’s shoulders.
“We’re going out,” he announced. “All of us.”
I looked over and accidentally caught Low’s eye. I snapped my head away, looking at Riley before I could register Low’s expression. “Sure.” I tried to muster as much enthusiasm as possible. Going out with them would be better than sitting home alone drinking by myself on a Saturday night. Even if it meant spending the evening in Low’s subdued company.
“I’m in,” Jamison said. “I’ll call Bree and get her to meet us there.”
Riley cheered and gave us both high-fives. Bianca pulled a face when Jamison turned away and I raised an eyebrow at her.
“What’s the face about?”
Bianca lowered her voice so only I would hear. “Jam’s girlfriend, Bree, is…”
“You don’t like her.”
Bianca shook her head. “None of us do. She’s shallow and phony and catty as hell. But Jam doesn’t see any of that, so we’re just waiting until he comes to his senses.”
“Right.”
“What about you, Low?” Riley asked, ignoring the whispered conversation between Bianca and me. My ears pricked up, as I waited for Low to answer.
“Not tonight,” Low mumbled. He was already taking off his apron and loosening his ugly purple tie.
“Yes, tonight,” Riley said, voice firm. “You’re the whole reason we’re going out. B and I decided we’re getting you out of your funk.”
Low shook his head and grabbed his wallet from his locker. My stomach clenched. I wasn’t sure if it was because I really wanted him to come out, or because I was relieved he wasn’t.
Low made to move for the door, but Riley blocked his path. Riley wasn’t quite as muscular and filled out as Low was, nor was he as tall, but he had a gleam of determination in his eye.
“Come on, Low, you look like shit, and I’ve never seen you so down. We’re worried about you. You’re gonna come, get some drinks, get your dance on, and we’ll get you laid. You look like you need it.”
Low sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I’m fine. Really. If I come for one drink, will that be enough to make you happy?”
Riley nodded and clapped Low on the back. “We’re all in! Let’s go!”
Bianca grinned. “I knew you’d convince him.” Bianca and Riley high-fived as they headed out the door, with Jamison right behind them.
“I’m just grabbing my bag. I’ll meet you guys out front.” I didn’t want to be left alone at the back of the pack with Low.
I scuttled off to the back-kitchen area, grabbed my bag from my locker, and wasted a minute or two, giving Low time to leave. I fumbled with my keys, looking for the one that locked the bar door.
“Don’t worry, I have my key.”
My head snapped up and the butterflies in my belly started up again.
“Sorry,” Low said. “I wasn’t sure if you had a key yet, so I waited for you.”
“Oh, yeah. Jamison gave me one while you were away...” I found my key and held it up for him to see.
He nodded but made no move to leave. I didn’t want to be alone with him. The embarrassment I’d buried over last week was rapidly rising now that we were alone. I could feel it heating my cheeks.
I took an extra-long time locking the door, double-checking it, doing whatever I could to avoid looking at him. But he wasn’t going anywhere.
“Listen,” he said, when I’d run out of things to pretend to do. “About the other night…”
I wanted to groan. Did we really have to do this? Couldn’t we just move on without all the awkward?
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” I tried to sound breezy and carefree. I gave a little laugh, then abruptly shut my mouth. What the hell
was that? It didn’t sound breezy or carefree at all. More like panicky and a little hysterical.
“No, I want to explain—”
“Low.” I lifted my head to look him in the eye. “The last thing I want to hear is your explanations. I want to forget it ever happened. So can we do that? You can go back to flirting with your bar groupies and I’ll just do my job. I’m not the type to get all psycho about it, okay?” And that was true. Normally I wouldn’t have given a one-night stand a second thought, but I’d never been dumped mid make-out session either, so this was kind of new territory.
“Let’s just go out and have a good time, okay?” I turned away from him, not giving him the chance to reply. I hustled to where the other three were waiting for us outside.
“So where are we off to?” I asked in a strangled, high-pitched voice. Bianca gave me a quizzical look that clearly said I was being weird, but I already knew that.
Jamison slung his arm around my shoulder as Low caught up with our group. “Marx Club. We haven’t taken you there yet, but it’s our local. You’ll love it.”
7
Reese
It was wall-to-wall bodies at the Marx Nightclub. Bianca grabbed my hand and led me through the crowd of people dancing and drinking to a booth in the back. Sliding in next to her, I tensed for a moment, waiting to see who’d squeeze in next to me. I relaxed when it was Jamison. I turned forward again, my eyes meeting Low’s as he settled into the booth across from me. Crap, I hadn’t thought this through very well, had I? Now I’d have to look over the table into Low’s eyes all night. Awkward.