Racetrack Romance BOX SET (Books 1-3)

by Bev Pettersen

  “Is Maria ever going to join us?” the younger of the two owners asked.

  “She likes to watch from the rail,” he said, glancing back to where Maria stood beside Dino and Jessica. A skinny boy in a black T-shirt squeezed in beside Jessica, then abruptly turned and bolted. Jessica wheeled with indignation.

  Mark watched from his vantage point as the kid scooted through the crowd and joined a man at the edge of the grandstand—a stranger, possibly of Middle East descent. At least the kid wasn’t hooked up with Manuel who was ostentatiously a trainer but in reality controlled the drug traffic that too often derailed the lives of many workers.

  If the kid were a pickpocket, he wouldn’t have filched much from Jessica. Just that morning she’d triumphantly delivered him a list of ten horses and their morning temperatures. He’d felt sick realizing she’d been handling rambunctious colts and snapped at her when she’d asked for a raise. But, Christ, he didn’t want her to get hurt. It was a mystery why Boone’s granddaughter was so broke—why she was working so hard—but her presence in his shedrow definitely added spice. Not that he wanted spice.

  No fucking way.

  He tightened his mouth and turned his attention to Missy, guiltily aware he hadn’t watched her warm-up. At least the owners were unaware of his distraction. Their binoculars were fixed on the horses circling behind the gate. Missy usually loaded well, but Mark blew out a relieved sigh when she walked in and the gate crew slammed the door shut.

  The crowd hushed. The horses were loaded.

  “They’re off!” the announcer yelled as jets of color burst across the track.

  The filly broke hard and was near the front, but her speed was limited and three horses stormed past. She galloped fourth down the backstretch, a distinctive splash of pink and purple, with the jockey’s silks matching her braids.

  They covered the first quarter in just over twenty-three seconds. She seemed to be running easy, but coming into the turn a blue-blinkered horse loomed on her outside. The front runner weakened, and the crowd groaned as two horses burst past the favorite.

  “Not yet, Steve,” Mark muttered, but the filly surged forward, propelled by the onslaught of horses. At the top of the stretch, she’d already seized the lead.

  Mark’s two owners jumped up and down, ecstatic to see their horse in front. They pumped his arm, spilling their drinks, screaming encouragement. Mark muzzled his concern—it was way too early.

  The filly charged down the stretch, three lengths in front, her colors vivid against the dirt. Mark’s fists clenched, hoping she’d hang on for the win but knowing the fractions were too fast, the stretch too long.

  The horse on the sticky rail floundered and was no longer a threat, but a small gray closed like a missile on the outside. Steve smacked Missy twice but the filly was exhausted. The gray swept by, full of run. Missy staggered across the line in a photo for second with a hard-charging bay.

  “What a fun race!” The owner clinging to his arm squealed. “I think she came second. What do you think, Mark?”

  “I think the bay got it,” he said watching the tote board with a sinking sensation. “Are you ladies dropping by the barn?”

  “Definitely, and we’d like to take you and Maria out for dinner. A win is marvelous, but a second is good too.”

  “How about a third?” he asked wryly as numbers flashed across the tote board. What shitty luck. The filly had lost second by a nose. “I want to talk to the jockey,” he added. “Be right back.”

  He joined the knot of trainers and grooms waiting on the track and studied Missy as the jockey trotted her back. This was always his most anxious moment, waiting to see if his horse returned from the race healthy.

  “Sorry, Mark. I couldn’t hold her once she saw daylight,” Steve said, his voice uneven as he tried to regain his breath. “I’d sure like to ride her again though.”

  “Sure,” he replied, helping Maria control the dancing filly. “We’ll work her in company. Teach her to relax a little more.”

  Steve nodded, his teeth white through his dirty face. He vaulted off, unbuckled the saddle and headed to the scales.

  “I’ll need you tonight, Maria,” Mark warned, giving the gutsy filly a pat. “The owners want to have a quick dinner. Nothing to worry about, real casual.”

  Her glum nod made him smile. She hated spending time with owners, avoiding them like a plague.

  Mark glanced at Dino and Jessica who lingered at the rail.

  “It was a whisker for second,” Dino said mournfully. “Eight thousand bucks down the toilet. Guess it’s pizza again tonight.”

  Jessica just grinned. She was a quick learner but there was much she didn’t know. Probably thought they raced for fun. Her work stint was a lark, something to appease her grandfather. But to the stable, placings were critical. Worker bonuses were calculated on percentage of the purse, and everyone benefited. Or not.

  He’d known the filly was in tough, but it had been so close. Disappointment churned in his gut: for Maria, for the dedicated owners, for all his employees. Tomorrow he only had two horses running, and one was Buddy—Buddy, who hadn’t managed to win in two years. It could be a lean week and Breeders’ Cup, with its lucrative purses was still a month away.

  Curbing his frustration, he studied Jessica’s face. At least she’d enjoyed seeing Missy run; her skin still glowed from an adrenaline high and her vitality was contagious. Suddenly, he didn’t feel quite so disappointed.

  “Our newbie hit the trifecta,” Dino said. “She might not know much about horses, but she sure knows how to bet.”

  A trifecta! So that explained her excitement. Mark twisted, checking the board. Unbelievable. Somehow she’d picked the first three finishers in the exact order. And the gray had been a longshot so the payout was substantial. “Not bad,” he said. “One hundred and sixty-four bucks on a two-dollar bet.”

  Dino chuckled. “She bet twenty. Raked in sixteen hundred bucks tonight.”

  “Good God!” Mark shook his head in disgust. “You made more money than me. Maybe now you can quit.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, boss,” Jessica said. “I’m not quitting.”

  He hid his spurt of relief. “Congratulations then. Lucky betting.”

  “It wasn’t luck,” she said. “I stayed up all night studying The Form. But at least now I can replace my stolen phone.”

  “I saw a kid running away,” Mark said. “Did he swipe your cell?”

  She gave a rueful nod. “I was watching Missy, barely felt anything. Just a tug—and poof, it was gone.”

  “He’s young. Probably works with someone,” Mark said. “I’ll have a talk with Manual. See what he knows. We can’t have our top handicapper being hassled.”

  The smile she shot him was so grateful, he didn’t add that her phone was likely long gone. Manuel didn’t stoop to petty theft. And Mark hadn’t recognized the bearded man. No doubt it had been lifted by an outsider, a random incident that was irritating but definitely not life-threatening.

  Chapter Seven

  Money bulged in Jessica’s pocket as she crouched to check Buddy’s legs. She stuffed the precious wad deeper, reassured by its presence. Just thinking about working for her grandfather almost made her sick. She’d hide the winnings in her coffee can later but right now, she wanted to savor the knowledge she’d earned it—on her own—and no doubt could do it again.

  Numbers had always been a cinch. Now that she knew how to analyze The Racing Form, she was keen to bet again. Maybe she’d be able to raise enough to bankroll her own dog business. She gave a little fist pump, delighted she wouldn’t have to borrow money from Gramps. Buddy stopped chewing for a moment and eyed her curiously.

  She gave his neck a reassuring pat, thinking of Mark’s statement that she’d been lucky. Sure, a bit of luck was involved, but she’d studied the horses’ forms. It had been simple to narrow the race down to three or four contenders. A quick look in the paddock trimmed it further. And if Mark had a horse ent
ered, it was bound to run in the top three—she’d checked all the trainers’ stats, and Mark had one of the highest win percentages. No wonder her grandfather had entrusted him with Assets.

  Voices rocked the barn. She stepped from the stall, frowning. Mark liked it library quiet; no one was supposed to ever yell or disturb the horses. Tonight though, two ladies with designer leather purses, Italian shoes and pink scarves giggled in the aisle as they followed Mark and Maria.

  Must be the two owners who’d waved from the box. Maria said they always visited Missy after a race, bringing peppermints and insisting on taking the filly’s connections for dinner. Apparently they enjoyed the day and, win or lose, relished every moment of the experience.

  Jessica grabbed a rake, her mind scrambling as she tidied the already-spotless aisle. Maybe they’d invite her to tag along. It was always unbearably lonely in the evenings—she often raked five or six times just for something to do—and the thought of another meal of canned beans made her stomach churn.

  “Our horse looked wonderful today, Maria. You braided her beautifully,” the taller lady said.

  Both Mark and Maria looked at Jessica.

  “She helped with the braids.” Maria shuffled uncomfortably and pointed at Jessica. “Showed me how to do it.”

  “It was no problem.” Jessica paused and leaned on the rake. “Took a couple hours, but the extra time was worth it.” However, she automatically rubbed her shoulder because the braiding had left a slight ache in her arm.

  “Oh, dear. Missy didn’t hurt you, did she?” The shorter owner stepped closer, studying the abrasions on Jessica’s face.

  “Oh, no. That wasn’t Missy,” Jessica said quickly, seeing the concern in the nice lady’s eyes. “She’s a very sweet horse.”

  “Well, I hope you join us for dinner. We really love the braids. It was such a nice touch.”

  Mark raised a sardonic eyebrow, but Jessica ignored him. Missy had looked beautiful and her owners liked it. Besides, Jessica really needed to be with people tonight. Mark didn’t understand what it was like, isolated in the barn, alone with the horses. He always had people tagging after him, hanging on his every word, clamoring for his attention.

  “I’d love to come.” She quickly hung up the rake, hoping Mark didn’t mind.

  “Maybe Jessica should take us for dinner,” he said softly. “She made all the money today.”

  She shot him a quick look of reproach. He seemed to think she was rich. Had yelled at her when she’d presented a sheet with ten horses’ temperatures and asked if there were any more jobs she could do. Sometimes she didn’t understand him at all. But at least he was letting her come.

  “I just have to grab a sweater from my room,” she said, gesturing over her shoulder, afraid they might leave without her.

  “You actually sleep in there?” The ladies stared past her at the dark room, their revulsion almost comical. The tall one rallied quickest and turned to Jessica. “That is so sweet. Sleeping here with the horses, keeping our Missy safe. Mark is lucky to have an experienced horseperson like you.”

  Jessica glanced at Mark, wondering if he would announce she was totally inexperienced and, in fact, was only allowed to handle Buddy. However, his expression remained inscrutable although the corner of his mouth twitched.

  ***

  Mark had made reservations at an Italian restaurant and bar across the street, and Jessica spotted many familiar faces when she stepped into the savory-smelling room. Clearly it was a track hangout with the requisite horse equipment and framed pictures decorating the walls. She detoured to the bathroom, lingering over the spotless washbasin, the endless supply of warm water and the sweet-smelling soap.

  When she emerged, Dino leaned over a stool at the end of the bar.

  “Mark said you’re buying,” he said with a grin, “and that I should drink as much as I want.” His flushed face and the way he squeezed the smiling blonde beside him suggested he was diligently following Mark’s advice.

  “He’s joking,” Jessica said. “And you already owe me. Remember our bet on my very first day?”

  “Yeah. I still can’t believe he hired you.” Dino shook his head. “You’re not even flatulent.”

  Jessica stared in confusion, then edged away. She liked Dino—everyone did—but she’d learned long ago it was impossible to understand a drunk. She brushed past the giggling blonde, who seemed totally entranced by every word that came out of Dino’s mouth, then rushed to Mark’s table before he announced to the entire room that drinks were on her. Paying for the pizza tonight wouldn’t be a problem. She’d made a lot of money betting and having company tonight was totally worth it, but she had a business to start. She couldn’t afford to pay for everyone’s liquor.

  Maria, Mark and the two owners were already seated at a corner table.

  “So nice of you to bring us here, Mark,” the shorter lady was saying, glancing around at the horse pictures. “We feel like part of the racing community now.”

  “We definitely have the most handsome trainer,” the tall one added, playfully squeezing his arm. “One we want to get to know much better.”

  Mark nodded but his smile was tight, and he looked at Jessica with obvious relief. “Ah, there you are. Where’s Dino? Thought he was joining us.”

  “Thanks to your directive, he’s guzzling his ‘free’ drinks at the bar, along with a little friend,” Jessica said. “So you have us ladies all to yourself.”

  “Just the way I like it.” But there was an edge to his voice, and she guessed the affable Dino usually served as Mark’s buffer. Maria would certainly provide no help. She’d buried her head in the pizza menu, studying it with a concentration more appropriate to a five-star restaurant.

  Mark stiffened every time the tall lady, Hilda, touched his arm, and Jessica’s empathy surged. It was an awkward position. He had to please his owners but wasn’t the type to flirt and definitely wasn’t the type to enjoy trite conversation. Yet he’d always been kind, always fair, despite that moment of discomfort by the rail. She could certainly help him out tonight.

  She leaned forward with a bright smile, distracting the lady hanging on Mark’s arm. “Is that gorgeous scarf a Hermes? I love the color. It totally matches your silks.”

  It was a cinch to redirect the conversation and soon Mark’s big shoulders relaxed, and even Maria lowered the menu and smiled shyly. The two ladies were delightful, and Jessica discreetly swiped her eyes when she learned they donated all Missy’s race profits to the Cancer Society.

  By the second bottle of wine, they confided they lived together as a couple. After that announcement Mark looked far more comfortable when they hugged his arm. At one point he even held Hilda’s hand, comforting her when she spoke of her ex-husband and how he had fled following her breast cancer diagnosis.

  “I’ll braid Missy pink every race,” Maria promised as the owners prepared to leave. Jessica scooped up the bill before Hilda could take it, but Mark overrode them all.

  “I’ll look after it,” he said, extracting it from her hand. “Thanks, Jessica.” He gave her shoulder a grateful squeeze before turning and calling Dino to the table.

  “I’m driving Hilda and Dorothy to their hotel,” she heard him say. “Don’t let Jessica and Maria walk back to the track alone.”

  “I won’t,” Dino said, but he looked disappointed and shot a rueful glance at the bar.

  “We’re fine. Maria and I can walk home together,” Jessica said as Mark headed toward the exit. Her shoulder still tingled from his touch, and she was absurdly disappointed when the door closed behind him. She wished he wasn’t leaving yet; all the vitality seemed to seep from the room. She jerked her head away, afraid Dino and Maria might notice her growing interest in their boss.

  “No, I’ll walk you home.” Dino sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Even though I planned to invite that blonde with the nice laugh over to my apartment for a quick drink.”

  Maria snorted. “Some quick OTS, mor
e like it.”

  “OTS?” Jessica frowned. She thought she knew all the racetrack abbreviations but couldn’t remember ever hearing that one.

  “Off-track sex,” Maria said. “The only kind Mark allows. But since he told Dino to take us home, he’ll have to postpone his party plans. Tough luck, Dino.”

  “Damn Mark’s puritan rules anyway,” Dino said with a good-natured wave to the girl propped on the stool. He linked his arms around Jessica and Maria. “No problem. I’ll just switch to plan B.”

  “But it’s after hours,” Jessica said, feeling a little sorry for the blonde left at the bar who, despite her laugh, now looked quite forlorn. “Surely Mark can’t tell you what to do?”

  “Surely he can,” Dino said. “He always worries about his employees. Which means we’re heading back to the shedrow where there’s no drugs, no alcohol and, unfortunately for you,” he paused to give them both a quick squeeze, “no sex.”

  “But we don’t want sex,” Maria said, so loudly the people at the next table cranked their heads and stared. “Besides, Pedro just came so I’m staying.” She pushed Dino’s arm away and headed toward a smiling man in a red shirt.

  “Let’s go, Jessica,” Dino said. “Maria and Pedro are practically married, so you’re stuck with me. If you behave, I might let you cop a feel when we cross the infield.”

  She rolled her eyes, but it was impossible not to laugh at his totally irreverent grin, and they were both smiling when they left the restaurant.

  ***

  A silver dollar moon lit the night. Still, Dino stumbled twice once they left the smooth walkway and cut across the track.

  “Squeeze through the hedge,” he said. “Then we can cross the infield. They know we use this shortcut. If this was Texas, they’d leave some lights on for us.”

  He was very drunk, Jessica realized. Probably wouldn’t notice if she steered the conversation around to Mark, who was more interesting than any more ramblings about the state of Texas.