Thoroughbreds and Trailer Trash

by Bev Pettersen

Clearly there was a new buzz to the Center. Aisles were spotless, workers moved with alacrity and soon they’d be ready to treat some classy horses.

  Burke shoved his key in the lock and pushed open the office door, scanning the room with a suspicious eye. One drawer was tightly closed; he’d deliberately left it open a quarter inch, and the pen on top of his files now lay at a different angle.

  Wally, no doubt. Nothing a locksmith couldn’t fix, but it would be a relief when Wally Turner was gone and a new manager installed. Three Brooks was no longer a charity case and deadwood had to be culled. Unfortunately, Wally’s termination for just cause had been blown when Jenna refused to sign the statement. Burke sighed. He hated to give a severance package to a thief.

  It was clear Wally was skimming profits but that would be difficult to prove. Burke had scrutinized the appointment books and none of the other technicians had received cash, only Jenna. He needed her good will. And her signature.

  He scrolled through his phone messages. Three increasingly plaintive ones from Theresa that he’d have to answer sometime but Christ…he rubbed his forehead. Feminine distraction was not what he needed now and besides, it was more fun playing cards with Jenna.

  Hell, she was distraction enough. A couple times last night, he’d even forgotten why he was sitting on her cozy porch. Her saucy smile made his brain fog. She’d sucked at her bottom lip and dropped her guard when she was playing cards, so into the game. Damn good at reading him too, although he could have won most of the hands.

  The subject line of the next text shoved Jenna from his thoughts: Derby winner struggling in breeding shed. We ready?

  He quickly called his cousin. “What horse is it?” he asked, grabbing his pen.

  “Mr. Nifty,” Edward said. “Chestnut colt that won the Derby and Preakness eight years ago. His offspring have been burning up the track. But confidentially, he’s having trouble covering mares, and the owners are desperate. They’re hoping it’s body soreness. Bad for them but a great opportunity for us.

  “Anyway, how are you doing out there in the boonies?” Edward gave an amused chuckle. “Straightening out those hillbillies?”

  “It’s not so bad,” Burke said. “Some mismanagement needs to be worked out. Staff is generally competent.”

  “Then can you help this horse?”

  Burke dragged a reluctant hand over his jaw. He didn’t like to be rushed, hadn’t reviewed all employee qualifications yet and there was that sticky business with Wally. Still, the public relations benefits of helping a Derby winner would be astronomical.

  “Who are the owners?” he asked, stalling for time, uneasy with his gut reaction.

  “Ridgeman Racing Stables, that outfit in Kentucky. And they’re willing to transfer full payment in advance. The stud is worth millions.”

  “Worth zilch if he can’t breed,” Burke said.

  “Whatever. They’re going to pay someone so it might as well be us. Let’s do it. You got special lights and magnets and all that yoga shit.”

  “Jesus, Edward. It’s not yoga.” Burke grinned, picturing his citified cousin sitting behind his mahogany desk high in their New York office. Edward was a master negotiator but didn’t care much about the workings of the companies. As usual though, his enthusiasm was contagious.

  “All right,” Burke said, blowing out a sigh. “We’ll take the horse for a couple weeks. He’ll be our first big client. Be great if it works out.” Not so great if it doesn’t.

  He cut the connection and began listing preparations. Sharpen staff, beautify the landscape, check on security. Wouldn’t be smart to fire Wally now, although maybe he’d quit on his own. Without just cause, that would be the perfect solution. Staff would be complacent too, especially if pay hikes were pushed through. Money was generally the quickest way to inspire loyalty.

  Checking on staff credentials though—tedious job. Best to hire a temp, and quickly.

  He called the reception desk, struggling to remember the woman’s name, and then remembered Jenna had called her Frances. “I need the number for the local employment center, Frances,” he said.

  “You looking for grooms?” Her voice had an irritating squeak.

  “No,” he said. “Secretarial work.”

  “Don’t think there’s a place like that…not sure.”

  “Well, think a little harder. And call me back,” he snapped. He’d search it himself, find a landscaping company too. For God’s sake, how hard could it be?

  Ten minutes later, Jenna burst in.

  “Did you have to be so cruel?” She stalked up to his desk, hands on her hips, eyes flashing.

  “Don’t you have a horse to massage?” he asked, surprised at her temper but secretly appreciative of the distraction.

  “Only one, and I’m already finished. We’re not booking locals, remember?” She gave a theatrical sigh then seemed to remember her mission. “So why are you replacing Frances? She only looks unhappy because she’s overweight. And she did wash the feed room floor yesterday.” Jenna splayed her hands over his desk and leaned closer. “I really think you should reconsider. People here are just starting to like you. And that’s important in a small community.”

  He couldn’t help it. Her beautiful chest grabbed his attention and he guessed he’d have to invite Theresa down for a sleepover after all. He forced his gaze back to Jenna’s face, amazed she could look so damn hot in a T-shirt and faded jeans. This girl was getting more attractive every day.

  “I’m not replacing Frances.” His voice was husky and he coughed. Christ, he’d be putty in Jenna’s hands if she ever guessed how his body reacted.

  “I’m not replacing her,” he repeated. “I only asked the woman for some help finding office staff. Obviously she jumped to conclusions.”

  “Use your head, Burke.” Jenna rolled her eyes. “Of course, she jumped to conclusions. She’s the only employee who’s a secretary.”

  “There might be one less employee,” he said, “if you don’t show a little more respect.”

  Her eyes widened and she instantly raised her hands and stepped back. “Sorry. I didn’t mean offense.” The words were quick and apologetic but he wasn’t fooled. She was smiling exactly like she did last night—right before she’d aced his king.

  “There’s no employment office around here,” she added, “but old Mrs. Turnbull can do some typing. Bit of a gossip, but if it’s routine stuff...?”

  “It’s not. More of a sorting.” He glanced at the employee files, scowling at the thought of the tedious job.

  “Maybe I could help? I don’t have many horses booked.”

  He paused, tempted by her offer. Shouldn’t be a problem. Salaries weren’t noted in the files, and he merely needed someone to go through and pull credentials. Once they were listed it would be a simple matter to adjust the pay.

  “Or maybe Wally could do it,” she added helpfully.

  He studied her through narrowed lids, wondering if the minx was actually trying to manipulate him. Wally certainly wasn’t going to set foot in this office. Ever again.

  “Take a seat.” He gestured at the small conference table. “You need to cross-reference each category, then insert Three Brooks’ employees based on their educational background.”

  “What about experience?”

  “There’s another category for that, but it’s at a lower pay scale.”

  “But that’s ridiculous.” He was surprised by the defensive flush in her cheeks. Clearly, if there was ever a union brewing, she’d be one to watch. “Experience is better than classroom learning,” she added.

  He thumped the first stack of files on the table. “But we’re positioning Three Brooks based on superior employee education. Besides, you don’t have to worry. You have a diploma…and a certificate.” He paused, searching her face for that guilty flicker. Ah, there it was.

  He’d check out her background later, but not yet. At this point he needed her. It was clear Wally and Jenna had a lot of influence, and it wo
uld be rash to alienate both employees at the same time.

  “Stop breathing down my neck,” she said, her blond head already bent over the files. “You make me nervous.”

  If she only knew. “I’m going to check the oxygen chamber,” he said. “I’ll bring you a coffee on the way back.”

  “I prefer tea actually, really hot, with a squeeze of lemon.”

  He didn’t bother to reply.

  ***

  Jenna whipped through the stack of files, searching for her name. This was perfect. She’d stick her name in the applicable category and there’d be no more worries. It hadn’t even been necessary to copy the certificate. Who’d have thought it would be this easy?

  She flipped through the stack again, searching for Murphy. ‘A – L.’ Okay, so he was pulling them in batches. Made sense but she was rather disappointed she couldn’t doctor her file today. This wasn’t even interesting, nothing about salaries. Only resumes and job responsibilities, stuff she already knew.

  A knock sounded and she glanced up.

  “What are you doing in here?” Wally asked, his brow rising in that familiar gesture.

  “Working on some employee files.”

  He shook his head in grudging admiration. “Have to hand it to you, Jenna. You can get things done. Does Derek know you didn’t finish high school? Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.” He stepped further into the office. “We’ll make sure no one loses their job.”

  “I already said you paid me a hundred bucks per horse,” she said stiffly. “Not sure what else I can do. I don’t want to lie to him.”

  She glanced uneasily at the yellow notepad on the desk. Burke’s masculine scrawl was clearly visible, and she knew he wouldn’t like Wally poking around his office. His face always tightened when she mentioned Wally’s name, almost imperceptible, but his disapproval was evident.

  Too late. Wally crossed to the desk and picked up the pad. “Cobblestones? Plant more flowers?” He flipped the pad back on the desk. “Sure, like that will improve our clientele. Listen, Jenna. I want you to get close. According to reports, Burke Industries is ruthless. Six months after a takeover, thirty percent of the staff is gone. Imagine what that would do to this town.”

  Jenna glanced nervously at the door. “He hasn’t fired anyone. Seems very straightforward.”

  “He’s a calculator.” Wally’s voice rose. “He doesn’t think like us. It’s the bottom line, nothing else. If he knew the truth about your education, you’d be out on your ass.”

  Her fingers turned clumsy and sheets of paper fell to the floor.

  “Hey, don’t worry.” Wally’s voice softened. “I’ve got your back. Just keep an eye on him. Keep me posted, okay?”

  She stared into his concerned face and slowly nodded, ignoring the traitorous ache deep in her chest.

  Chapter Eight

  Jenna flinched in dismay as another handful of Peanut’s hair stuck to her fingers. “Shit, fellow. What’s happening?”

  She stopped her massage and stepped back, a lump thickening her throat. At this rate, the pony would be bald in two weeks. She didn’t know what kind of weird skin condition he had, but it certainly wasn’t improving—even with the best supplements Three Brooks could buy. She couldn’t just stand around and watch her pony die though, not when she worked at a wellness center.

  She led him across the road for his evening grass, pulled out her phone and called Wally. “Any chance you could leave the door to the Center open tonight?”

  “No chance. Burke changed all the locks.” Wally gave a disgusted snort. “The only way is through my apartment door. What’s wrong? Is Durling’s donkey sick again?”

  “Actually it’s Peanut. His hair’s falling out.” Her voice caught. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Hey, no problem.” Wally’s voice softened. “He can fit through the apartment entrance. Then you can take him down the hall to the therapy rooms. How long do you need?”

  “Only twenty minutes in the solarium. I’ll wait until Burke drives by and then lead Peanut down the path.”

  “All right. I’m going to the Hunt Club tonight but will leave a key by the statue. Did Emily get a part-time job yet?”

  “She can’t, Wally. She’s busy with biology. The course is tough. Takes every minute of her time.”

  “Figures. Should be you up there studying. You’re the smart one. Good luck with Peanut.”

  The line went dead. She lowered her hand and frowned at the phone. She wasn’t the smart one; reading was always boring. Even the massage books—a subject she loved—turned monotonous after a few chapters. Sometimes Wally said such stupid things.

  Peanut’s head lifted and he stared toward the crest of the hill. Damn. She didn’t want to be caught standing by the side of the road. Burke might think she was waiting for him, wanting his company again. She dropped to the ground, flattening in the tall grass, praying he hadn’t spotted her.

  The big car braked. “You all right, Jenna?”

  “Oh, yes, sure.” Breathless, she scrambled to her knees and snatched at some flowers. “Just picking some flowers.”

  “Dandelions?”

  “Of course, ah…for dandelion wine.” He’d lowered the window and the distinctive smell of pizza drifted in the breeze. “You don’t look like someone who eats pizza,” she added, drawing in an appreciative sniff.

  He stepped from the car. Dropped a square box on his hood, opened the lid and extracted a generous slice. Looked like cheese and pepperoni, maybe some green peppers and tomatoes. The mozzarella stretched in generous threads. “I love pizza,” he said. “Come out of the grass and join me.” He propped his hip against the fender and chewed contentedly.

  She’d planned to heat the leftovers from last night, but pizza was always tempting. Besides, she and Peanut had a hike scheduled for tonight and that would burn plenty of calories. “You sure know your way to a woman’s heart, Burke.” She tossed aside the handful of yellow dandelions, brushed her hands on her jeans and stepped out from the grass.

  “We might as well sit on your porch,” he said, picking up the pizza box and holding it out of her reach.

  She groaned but he gave such a teasing wink, she forgave him and gestured at the trailer. “I already said I’m not signing any papers, but you and your pizza are welcome.”

  She stepped into the kitchen, grabbed two beers and settled beside him on the swing. They munched companionably and if he had any questions, at least he had the decency to let her eat first.

  “Okay.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin and leaned back in the swing. “What do you need now?”

  His expression turned serious and he took a thoughtful swig of his beer. “I’m thinking of bringing in a horse, a big horse. Can our current staff do a competent job?”

  “A big horse?” She leaned forward. “What do you mean, like a stakes horse?”

  “Like a Derby winner.”

  “Oh my gosh! Of course we can. I’m going to massage a Derby winner!” She shot her fist in the air. “How did you swing it? Family connections? You own him? What?”

  “Hey.” He reached over and patted her knee. “We have to keep it low key. A lot of nice mares are booked to this fellow. The owners don’t want anyone to know he has issues.”

  “Issues?” She leaned forward. “Is he shooting blanks? Or just limp?”

  Burke winced and she couldn’t resist a grin. Men were so sensitive about that sort of thing although it was doubtful he’d ever experienced any trouble in that department. He exuded sexuality. Just sitting with him on the swing was exhilarating.

  “He’s not interested in the mares,” Burke said. “Won’t mount. Vets can’t see anything wrong with his hind end and extensive testing revealed nothing.”

  “So we’re a last resort?”

  “Yes. Lights and the oxygen chamber will probably be a big help. Maybe the pulsing magnetics. What’s your opinion of Darlene, the oxygen tech?”

  “Her name’s Debbie,” Je
nna said. “And she’s discreet, a good operator. All the staff are fine. They’re starting to relax, knowing there won’t be layoffs. They’ll follow your directions, especially since nearly everyone is getting a raise.” She stiffened. “So that’s why you have me going through the files in such a rush?”

  “Yes,” he said, not sounding a bit contrite.

  “So tomorrow I’ll do files M to Z?”

  “Thanks for the beer.” He rose. “I’ve got to finish some paperwork. No time for cards. Maybe tomorrow.”

  He strode down the walkway before she could say that she didn’t have time either. She would have refused a card game and certainly didn’t exist for his entertainment, even though last night had been fun, and his visits did soothe the sting of yawningly long evenings.

  She sighed and took a half-hearted sip of beer. Maybe Emily would answer her text messages and at least ask about Peanut. Besides, there was nothing wrong with solitude.

  And she did have plans for tonight. Obviously Burke wasn’t lurking around the Center so a visit would be safe. She’d have to be careful though. As Wally warned, Burke was a smooth operator. He hadn’t even revealed the name of the Derby horse.

  She stepped back inside, wrapped up the remaining pizza—Burke was certainly stocking her fridge—tied her hair back in a ponytail and added a sweatshirt. It was humid and there might be a lot of mosquitoes. A girl had to be prepared.

  ***

  Jenna paused by the door to Wally’s apartment while Peanut waited patiently at her side. If he were curious about their late night hike, he didn’t show it. She gave him a reassuring pat, wincing as another tuft of brown hair drifted in the breeze.

  Best to be careful when she touched him. Otherwise their path would be marked with a trail of pony hair. Burke was no fool. He also would be less than pleased. She gulped but shoved away her fear. Peanut needed this treatment. Needed it badly.

  The eyes of the jockey statue gleamed and she fumbled around the iron base, checking for the key. There it was. Good old Wally. She inserted the key in the lock and pushed the door open. Peanut fit through with inches to spare. His tiny hooves rattled on the concrete, silencing when they reached the thick rubber that lined the aisle.