Off Course

by Georgina Bloomberg

  “Sorry,” she said softly. “I really need to get to bed, or I’ll be dead on my feet tomorrow.”

  He pretended to pout for a moment, then shrugged and let go of her hand. “Okay. At least let me bring you a cup of tea?”

  “Sure, okay.” Kate was so relieved that he wasn’t mad that she didn’t argue, even though she never drank tea. She picked up her plate and silverware, but Fitz gently took them from her.

  “Go get ready for bed,” he insisted. “Just leave the dishes. Maid’s coming tomorrow, so we don’t have to worry about it.”

  Kate hesitated, glancing at the messy dishes, which she knew would be crusty and gross by morning. But she couldn’t quite muster up the energy to protest, so she just nodded and headed down the hall toward her bedroom.

  She realized she must have had more of the wine than she’d thought when it took her three tries to get her foot through the leg of her shorty pajamas. Yeah, she was probably going to pay for that tomorrow.

  But it was too late to worry about it. Slipping under the covers, she yawned and did her best to ignore the way the room was spinning as she tried to calculate how late she could sleep and still be ready to leave on time. She was fiddling with the alarm clock when a soft knock came on the door.

  “Come in,” she called.

  Fitz entered, holding a steaming cup of tea. “There you go,” he said, setting it down on the bedside table. “Room service.”

  “Thanks.” Kate felt self-conscious as she noticed his eyes straying toward her pajama top. She tugged at the neckline, making sure it wasn’t slipping down too much. “Good night.”

  “That’s all I get?” Fitz’s voice was suddenly soft and husky. “No good-night kiss?”

  Kate’s heart pounded as he bent toward her, planting one hand on either side of her body as he kissed her. A moment later she felt the mattress sink on one side as he swung one knee onto the bed beside her.

  “Wait,” she said, struggling to focus through the fog in her mind. To figure out what was happening here. “We shouldn’t—”

  “It’s okay.” His eyes locked on hers. “We’re just saying good night.”

  She turned her head to avoid another kiss. “You should, um, probably go.”

  “What’s the matter?” He sounded kind of hurt now. “Don’t you trust me?”

  “Sure,” she said. “I mean, of course. I mean—”

  “It’s okay.” He traced her collarbone with one finger. “Can’t I just hold you while you fall asleep? Please?”

  “Um …” Kate’s cloudy mind couldn’t seem to come up with a response to that. Besides, how could she say no? He’d been so sweet all weekend. And he knew she didn’t want things to go too far. They’d worked that all out after that awkward evening in the hay stall. She did trust him not to push her again, didn’t she?

  Before she quite knew how it had happened, Fitz was lying beside her, his long legs under the covers. He slid one arm around her shoulders. “There,” he whispered. “That’s nice.”

  Kate could feel his warm breath on her neck and his cold foot snaking up over her bare legs. Then they were kissing again, and Fitz’s free hand was wandering, and suddenly Kate got a weird, out-of-body feeling—as if she were floating up above the bed looking down at herself. Herself in bed with Fitz, the guy who’d already bedded half the A circuit. The guy who now said he was her boyfriend, that he was willing to wait. But was he really? He was used to having girls say yes to him. A chilly trickle of panic ran through her as she realized how easily he could overpower her if he wanted to—would he really stop if she said no?

  “Get off of me!” she blurted, shoving herself to a sitting position so fast that her shoulder banged into the side of his face. “This—we—I said you should go!”

  Fitz drew back, looking surprised. “Kate—” he began.

  “I mean it!” Kate’s voice shook. “You need to leave now.”

  He frowned, shimmying away from her and standing up. “Fine.” His voice was clipped. “Good night, I guess.”

  Without another word, he hurried out, closing the door behind him. It wasn’t quite a slam, but almost.

  Kate just sat there for a moment, still shaking. Then she climbed out of bed and tiptoed over to the door. She listened for a moment, trying to tell if there was anyone on the other side. Then, as quietly as she could, she clicked the little button to lock it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Where’s my plaid bag?” Court called, her voice echoing due to her head being halfway into the trunk of Abby’s car.

  “Right here.” Tommi grabbed the bag off the sidewalk and brought it over. “Wow, the trunk looks so empty now without Brooke’s stuff.”

  “I know!” Brooke wailed. She was standing at the bottom of the steps of her cousin’s off-campus house, both arms wrapped around herself, looking pitiful. “I can’t believe you guys are leaving already! I want to throw my bags back in the car and go home to New York with you.”

  “No, you don’t,” Mariah told her. “You’re going to have a blast here.”

  “Yeah. By next weekend you’ll probably forget we even exist.” Abby shrugged. “And who can blame you? The guys here make high school guys look like kindergartners.”

  “That’s because the guys at our school act like kindergartners.” Court glanced at Tommi. “Hey, with all this extra space where Brooke’s stuff was, maybe you can squeeze in a souvenir from your visit to Penn,” she teased. “Like, say, a certain gorgeous dreadlocked dude?”

  “Shut up.” Tommi shot a look toward the house, but Jon and Rashad were inside, printing out directions for the trip home.

  Mariah shoved another suitcase into the trunk. “Yeah,” she said. “There might even be room left over for that adorkable nerdboy you picked up the other day, Tommi.”

  This time Tommi just smiled. She was really glad she’d come on this trip. The lecture on ancient Egypt had been interesting, and the guy she’d gone with had turned out to be funny and smart and okay, maybe a little dorky, but in a cool way. Tommi had spent more than an hour chatting with him over coffee after the lecture before her friends had finally called her away for dinner. That evening all five girls had gone barhopping around campus and eventually joined up with Jon and Rashad and some of their friends at another party, this one at someone’s friend-of-a-friend’s off-campus house. On Sunday the girls had slept in, then had brunch, followed by a full afternoon of shopping in other parts of the city. Later they’d met up with Jon and Rashad again and the whole group had gone to a music club to see a local band. As she’d swayed to the music, Tommi had thought of Alex—and realized it was the first time all day that she’d done so. She knew he’d love the club, which was small and quirky and very un–New York, though she couldn’t quite manage to wish that he was there.

  Monday was turning out to be another gorgeous, perfect late-summer day. Tommi and her friends had spent the morning hanging out on campus, then gone to lunch with the guys. Now it was time to leave Philadelphia and campus life and head home to New York.

  Tommi tossed the last of her bags into the trunk, then checked her purse to make sure her phone was inside. It now held the names, numbers, and e-mail addresses of several new guys, including Rashad. She wasn’t sure she’d ever use them, but that really wasn’t the point. She’d enjoyed getting to know a bunch of new people. Okay, so she still felt a twinge of guilt when she thought about Alex. What would he say if he knew what she’d been up to this weekend?

  But she shrugged that off. They’d only been together for a month or so. They’d never even really talked about being exclusive. So what was the big deal?

  “Is that everything?” Mariah asked, stepping back from the trunk and glancing around for stray bags.

  “Think so.” Abby slammed it shut. “We should hit the road. I told my folks I’d be home before dark. They’re totally paranoid about me driving in the city at night.”

  There was a flurry of hugs and tears as they all said goodbye to Br
ooke. “I wish you guys could stay!” she wailed, her voice muffled by being buried in Tommi’s shoulder.

  “Me too,” Tommi said, almost meaning it.

  She was glad she’d come. She loved riding and showing and everything else about her life. That didn’t mean it wasn’t nice to have a break from it once in a while, try something different. This had been one of those times, one of those perfect weekends that took her out of her real life in just the right way. Yes, she almost hated to head back.

  Almost.

  “Easy, big fella,” the farrier murmured as the horse he was trimming shifted its weight.

  Kate blinked, realizing her mind had drifted as she held the horse’s lead rope. She clucked to it, giving a light tug on the lead to make sure its focus stayed on her.

  The farrier, Burt, finished with the hoof and straightened up. “That all for today?” he asked, giving the horse a pat.

  “What?” Kate said. “Um, I mean yeah. I mean I’m not sure. I mean, I’d better check with Joy.”

  Burt tilted his head and studied her. “You okay, Katie? You look like you’re a million miles away.”

  “Sorry. I mean I’m fine.” Kate shrugged. “Just busy—you know, Washington Crossing and all …”

  She let her voice trail off as she led the horse away down the aisle. The truth was, she’d been distracted all day. She couldn’t seem to stop thinking about what had happened—and what had almost happened—between her and Fitz last night. Had she overreacted? Fitz certainly seemed to think so. He’d apologized that morning for being pushy again, but things had seemed a little frosty between them even after that. Instead of driving her to the barn himself, he’d called a car service to take her.

  “My treat, obviously,” he’d said, not quite meeting her eye. “But I mean, I’m not really supposed to show up there today anyway, right? This way I don’t have to listen to some lecture from Jamie about the definition of the phrase ‘closed on Mondays.’”

  Kate had forced a laugh, and Fitz had kissed her on the forehead as she’d left. But still, things felt different.

  She deposited the freshly shod horse in his stall, then stood there staring at him without really seeing him. Fitz had stepped in to help her when she was desperate. He hadn’t done a thing wrong since then except want to spend time with her and be close to her. And all she seemed able to do was confuse him or piss him off.

  Was she screwing up the best thing that had ever happened to her?

  Zara checked the clock on the wall for the millionth time. Almost two thirty.

  “If Gina doesn’t get back soon, she’s going to miss her freaking plane,” she muttered to the empty loft.

  She drummed her fingers on the coffee table, debating whether to call her mother’s cell to see what was up. She’d spent the morning coming up with one last story to explain away Stacie’s absence. Now all she wanted was to get it over with. Pack Gina off to the airport, then scoot up to Central Park to meet Marcus.

  Marcus. A smile spread over Zara’s face as she picked up her cell phone, scrolling down to the text he’d sent her about getting together today. She couldn’t wait to see him again. Would he seem as hot and mysterious the second time around? Either way, getting to know him better would be a good way to celebrate surviving the past week.

  Then a thought occurred to her. Her mother was notorious for always running late. What if she’d overslept out in the Hamptons and had to rush straight to the airport instead of coming back to the loft? If that was the case, Zara might not even need her cover story.

  Before she could get too excited about that, she heard a flurry of footsteps clickety-clacking along in the hallway outside. She dropped her phone on the coffee table, then rushed over and flung open the door.

  “You’ll never guess what happened,” she began.

  Her mother breezed into the apartment and dropped her overnight bag on the floor. “No wait, me first,” she exclaimed. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes sparkled. “I talked to my agent and things are still up in the air on set, so I decided to change my plans. I’m staying another week!”

  “What?” For a second Zara wasn’t sure she’d heard her right. “What do you mean, you’re staying?”

  Gina bustled over and planted a kiss on Zara’s cheek. “There’s no point in going back to Vancouver just to stand around when I could be watching my lovely and talented daughter ride in her big show this weekend, right?” She stepped back and clapped her hands like a little kid. “I can’t wait! It’s been too long since I’ve gotten to see you ride, love.”

  She sounded excited, but Zara’s heart sank like a stone. Now what?

  Gina stepped over to glance at the answering machine, then looked around the main room. “Where’s Stacie?” she asked. “I’m looking forward to having more than an hour or two to get to know her.”

  Zara gulped. “Um, that’s what I was about to tell you. She’s not here.”

  “Oh?” Gina raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow. Was that a look of suspicion in her expressive brown eyes?

  But Zara couldn’t worry about that. She was in too deep now.

  “Yeah.” She picked at a loose thread on the arm of the sofa. “It’s because of her old childhood piano teacher, I think. Anyway, some old dude who lives in Boston. Zac might know who I mean. Someone called first thing this morning and said he got rushed to the hospital.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  Zara couldn’t tell whether her mother was buying it so far or not. “Anyway, Stacie hopped the first train up to see him.” She shrugged. “She was planning to come back tonight so I wouldn’t be here alone. But now that you’re sticking around, maybe I’ll text her and let her know she can stay if she wants. That’s okay, right?”

  Gina kicked off her shoes and wriggled her toes. She studied Zara’s face for a long moment. Zara held her breath. Had she sold it? Or was her whole story about to come crashing down?

  “Of course,” Gina said at last. “Please let her know I—”

  The buzz of Zara’s cell phone cut her off. Zara grabbed it, her mind immediately jumping to Marcus.

  “Hang on, I need to check this,” she told her mother. “I’m supposed to be meeting a friend at the park in a while.”

  “Fine.” Gina hurried off into the kitchen as Zara read the text.

  hi Zara, I just wanted to make sure u aren’t going to tell anyone about that pic u saw. Pls? I’m srs, u can’t tell ANYONE. OK? text me back if u want. yr friend, Summer

  Zara rolled her eyes. Definitely not Marcus.

  “How the hell’d Summer get my number?” she muttered under her breath. The girl was seriously whacked out. But she didn’t have time to worry about Summer’s petty little problems right now. Or ever, really. But especially right now.

  Gina stepped back into the room, holding a bottle of spring water. “Everything okay with your friend?” she asked.

  “Huh? Oh, sure.” Zara slipped the phone into the pocket of her shorts. “That was him—he’s already on his way to the park. So I’d better scoot.”

  “Him?” Gina smiled. “Anyone I should know about?”

  Zara grabbed her purse off the sofa. “Just a friend. No biggie.” She headed for the door, then paused. “Oh, and don’t worry, I’ll text Stacie in the cab, okay?”

  “All right. Have a nice time. Can we have dinner tonight?”

  “Yeah, sounds good. See you later.”

  Zara rushed out of the loft. She wasn’t actually supposed to meet Marcus for a couple of hours, but suddenly she really needed to get away. Partly so Gina wouldn’t ask any difficult questions before Zara worked out how to handle this new twist.

  But mostly so she could figure out why she actually felt a teensy bit … guilty about lying to her mother.

  Since when had that sort of thing bothered her?

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Good boy,” Kate murmured as Flame moved sideways at a nudge from her outside leg. She was practicing the lateral work he’d learned so f
ar, and he was doing great. “Such a smart guy!”

  The horse’s left ear flicked back toward her, then a moment later swiveled along with the right one, aiming toward the edge of the ring. Kate glanced that way and her heart let out a thump. Fitz was leaning on the rail, watching her.

  What’s he doing here? she thought, various possibilities skittering through her mind before she could stop them. He’d come to break up with her. He wanted to tell her off for leading him on last night … She shoved those thoughts aside quickly, not wanting her anxiety to transfer to the horse.

  Not that that was a big issue with Flame. So far he was turning out to have the perfect temperament for a show hunter—calm and easygoing without being dull.

  She sent him into a trot, then risked one more glance over at Fitz. He caught her eye this time, waving and shooting her a thumbs-up.

  “He’s looking good!” he called.

  Kate circled around to where he was standing, then asked Flame to halt. The gelding responded immediately, halting squarely right beside Fitz, then immediately snaking his head over to mug for treats.

  “Heya, dude.” Fitz dug a peppermint out of his pocket and held it out. The big D-shaped rings of the horse’s bit clanked as he chewed the treat. Meanwhile Fitz looked up at Kate. “Having fun up there?”

  Kate shot him a quick smile, then hid her discomfort by leaning forward to give Flame a pat. “Yeah, he’s doing great,” she said. “Um, I didn’t think you were coming up to the barn today. Closed on Mondays, remember?”

  “Just call me a rebel. If Jamie tells me I can’t ride on Mondays, then dammit, that’s when I want to ride!” He grinned. “No, seriously, I just came to pick you up.”

  Kate wasn’t sure how to respond. He was acting as if nothing was wrong, as if last night hadn’t happened. What did that mean?

  At that moment Flame shifted his weight, giving her an excuse to focus on him. “I’ll be done here pretty soon,” she said. “I just want to school him a little more while we’ve got the ring to ourselves.”