Nacho Figueras Presents (20 page)

Georgia shrugged. “Well, she's sixteen. Time for this kind of thing to start happening, right? Not that she shouldn't have consequences—I wouldn't worry too much just yet.”

“Who was she with?”

Georgia hesitated, not wanting to betray Valentina's trust. She figured honesty, though, was her only option.

“Javier.”

Alejandro's face fell. “The groom? This doesn't seem like him at all.”

“From what I gathered, most of this was Valentina's idea. I believe he just kind of followed her like a love-struck sheep.”

Alejandro smiled ruefully.

“I know this doesn't look good for either of them,” said Georgia, “but I will say that it could have been much worse. At least she was out with someone who I don't think would ever dream of taking advantage of her in her inebriated state.”

Alejandro made a small huff with his breath, as if the possibility had knocked the wind right out of him.

“Sometimes I feel like there is nothing—nothing at all I can do—to keep this girl safe,” he said miserably. “If it's not drinking, it's the drugs around here. This place is riddled with overprivileged trustafarians. There are temptations in every restroom, E and molly at every club. It seems like every time I talk to the other parents, their kids are in rehab.”

Georgia thought about the bleak scene she'd found at Gustavo's, but decided against bringing it up. “My mother used to say,” she said hesitantly, “girls who ride horses don't have time to get in trouble.”

He looked at her, quiet for a moment. “I can't risk losing her, Georgia.”

“There are other ways of losing a daughter.”

“I know,” he said, “I know.” He ran his hands rapidly through the thick silk of his hair. “But she's sixteen and drinking, I can't just let that go.”

“There might be some more constructive punishment than grounding, though,” Georgia said.

“Uh-oh.” He smiled. “Another new initiative?”

She felt herself blush, but forged on. “Valentina herself got me thinking. I'd really like to refresh my own riding. I quit when I was Valentina's age, when my mother left, and down here I've been so conscious of what a waste that was…And I know we're all super busy, and Enzo may have been humoring me, but he did say it would do him a favor if I'd exercise Tango. So I was thinking…”

“Tango loves to teach,” Alejandro said.

“Maybe Valentina could help him teach me? Strictly on my off-time,” she hastened to say. “I won't do anything that interferes with my responsibilities or practice for the match. But if Valentina teaches me, that way she'll be paying a little penalty for tonight's behavior and helping me, but also, she'll get to be with the horses again. Perhaps it will keep her out of trouble. Do her some good?”

Alejandro looked thoughtful. “There is a quotation that my father always used to say: ‘There is something about the outside of the horse that's good for the inside of a man.'”

“Winston Churchill.” Georgia smiled in recognition. “He also said, ‘No hour of life is wasted that is spent in the saddle.'”Alejandro's eyes lit up with delight before the shadow of anxiety fell again.

“It'll be safe,” Georgia assured him. “And probably very irritating for her! She'll have to go at a slow pace because I'm really rusty, but I know enough that I can keep an eye on her. She'll be holding my guide rope until I say I'm ready to do without, and you can let me know when you're ready for her to ride with me—whether she can take out Storm or another horse…”

He seemed to think about this for a moment. “I like it,” he finally said. He quickly reached out and covered her hand with his. “Thank you,” he said, “for giving a damn.”

Georgia could hardly breathe, feeling the warmth of him on her skin.

There was a groan from next door. “
Papá? No me siento bien.
”

He laughed and released Georgia's hand. “I've got this,” he said.

Georgia sat staring in wonder at the hand he'd held, telling herself sternly that this was a man who had his pick of some of the most beautiful women in the world, that he was just saying thanks.

She leaped up as he emerged from her bedroom with his daughter in his arms. He carried her like she didn't weigh any more than a tiny child. Valentina snuggled her head against her father's chest. “
Lo siento, Papi
,” she said thickly.

“
Está bien, mi corazon
,” he answered, gently depositing her into the car so he could comfortably deliver her to the door.

“You're sure there's nothing else I can do?” Georgia asked.

“No,” he said, “it's late. You should rest. It's not the first time I've been up with a sick
niña
.”

He turned back to her, brushed his hand over her cheek, and gently kissed her forehead. “
Muchas gracias, de verdad.
”

She only let her breath back out once he was in the car and pulling away.

T
he day of Georgia's first lesson, Alejandro woke Valentina early, and tense with nerves about his daughter being around horses again, he walked her to the barn himself. They found Georgia brushing out Tango and getting ready to tack up.

After Georgia and Valentina led Tango down to the covered arena, Alejandro looked around rather desperately for any physical activity he could tackle. Something to keep his eyes and mind off his daughter being around a horse—he wanted hay bales to be moved, a stall to be mucked out—but as usual, his grooms and students had left the place immaculate. There was no excuse to avoid watching the lesson.

Valentina stood in the ring with the lunge rope, endearingly excited to be in a position of authority for once in her life. It reminded Alejandro of playing with Seb in the back field as kids.

He felt himself relax. His daughter looked so proud and commanding as she put Georgia and Tango through their paces; it was beautiful to see her easy authority.

And Georgia rode better than he would have guessed. She saw him watching and flashed him a quick smile.

Valentina took Tango up to a canter, and Alejandro took a few steps toward the ring, a bit alarmed the pace might be too much too soon for an amateur, but he stopped halfway there to watch a wonderfully unself-conscious Georgia. He could see the sheer joy she felt in riding. Her pretty face, laughing as she posted on a cantering Tango, was happier than he'd ever seen her.

A long braid of hair snaked from under her helmet, twitching above her bouncing breasts as she moved in time with the horse. Her muscular thighs, encased in tight black breeches, flexed and relaxed. God. She had the body jodhpurs were made for. When she adopted jumping position to go over a low pole it was more than he could do not to stare at her pretty upturned ass.

“You're actually not terrible!” shouted Valentina, and Georgia grinned proudly and gave a mock salute.

“No one could ride badly on Tango!” she said back. “He's doing it all for me.”

“Go ahead,” said Valentina unhooking the lead, “take him into a gallop. Have some fun!” Georgia shortened the reins and gave him a little kick. She clicked her tongue and gave Tango the signal to run.

Alejandro looked away. He had to admit that he still had a difficult time seeing a woman going full speed on a horse. He knew it was ridiculous—especially since he rode with men doing absurdly dangerous things every week—but seeing a woman ride like this, it just made him think of his wife galloping at top speed before they hit that jump. The scream of the pony as he was caught in the hedge, the horrible, deadly silence in the long, stretched-out moment when his wife's body hurtled through the air and then hit the ground with a deafening thud, her neck already twisted at an angle from which he knew she'd never recover.

Georgia's breathless laugh burst into the air, startling him out of his dark thoughts. Her laughter was so infectious. He lifted his eyes back to her—madly racing around the ring, Tango gleefully flying beneath her—and all memories of his wife's broken body evaporated. He just saw two creatures delighting in the way they seemed to break free of the bonds of gravity. He knew exactly what they were feeling—having felt it himself so many times before—the heady moment when you couldn't tell where you ended and the horse began, when you felt that you might just launch into the sky and never come back down. Georgia whooped with glee, taking one more lap around, before slowing Tango to a trot, then a walk, and finally dismounting. It was seven, time for work to begin.

Alejandro felt the air come back into his lungs with a flood, suddenly realizing that he had been holding his breath from the moment she had started to gallop.

Pulling off her helmet, Georgia looked up, startled to find him staring. She smiled hesitantly, embarrassed now by her abandon on Tango and trying with one hand to flatten the mad static in her hair.

She seemed to search his face—for an okay of some sort—a shy eagerness that maybe he had shared that transcendent moment with her in some way. He couldn't help himself; he loved that look.

He returned her smile and then walked out and took Tango's reins from her.

“That felt amazing!” Georgia laughed. “Valentina, thank you. You're a natural teacher. I never dreamed it would all come back so fast.”

“We've a long way to go,” Valentina said.

Alejandro laughed. “Quite the taskmaster.”

“Better believe it,” Valentina said. “My plan is to get her on the polo field. Same time tomorrow, Georgia?”

The only indication Gustavo had given that he remembered Georgia's help after Cricket's party was that he was even more facetiously polite and sour with her than ever.

It was hard for her to bite her tongue in the face of his dislike, hard to tolerate his snide asides and continued insistence on her doing the most demeaning portion of the work, but just when she'd think she'd had enough, she would get a little flash of his sad apartment, of the way the sheets on his bed had looked as if they hadn't been changed for months, of the dirty dishes and empty bottles of beer crowding his kitchen counter—and it would be enough to turn the other cheek, take a deep breath, and walk away yet again.

Cricket came by with Pilar in the late afternoon, trailing a cloud of scent and looking ravishing in a sky blue silk tank and skintight pants. She'd taken Pilar to a ladies' lunch at the club to celebrate the inking of the Veuve Clicquot deal and wanted to see Alejandro's newly sponsored team in action.

“Now we're talking!” she crowed as Alejandro fed Sebastian a winning goal while they practiced. “That's the way to do it, boys!”

Enzo and Noni looked at each other and then met Georgia's eyes.

“She's acting like she owns the place,” Noni muttered.

“I hear she soon will,” Gus remarked, taking obvious satisfaction in his superior sources and the darts of hurt and worry he left in his wake.

Cricket made a big performance of talking to Pilar about wardrobe choices for the next leg on La Victoria's journey and their plans for London in the spring.

“When does your employment terminate, Georgia?” she asked.

“End of next week,” Georgia said, ruefully smiling at the endlessly heavy-handed ways Cricket enjoyed making the distinction between herself and a hired hand.

“Oh. No London?”

“No, no,” Georgia said. “Home for me.”

“Pity,” Cricket said with a shameless lack of sincerity.

After five minutes of crazy, high-maintenance fuss requiring every available barn hand to help establish the whereabouts of her phone and her dog and her keys, Cricket finally drove off with a “
Ciaooo!
”

Georgia stood with Pilar a minute as they watched Alejandro and Sebastian turning their ponies in tight circles in the ring.

“Cricket seems very excited,” Georgia said.

“She has a right to be,” said Pilar. “She pretty much single-handedly got them the sponsorship.”

“It was really nice of her,” said Georgia.

Pilar turned to go and hesitated. “It was a good suggestion of yours,” she said. “Getting Valentina back in the saddle.
Muchas gracias.
I think you must know this, but horses are such a help with loss.”

“My pleasure,” Georgia said. “She's really helped me, too.”

“So what are you going to do with all you've learned here? Where to? After the season.”

“Home,” Georgia said. “It's time I got back.”

“Why? Worried you'll be a runaway like your mother?”

“Oh,” said Georgia, startled at the older woman's frankness. “Uh, well, not exactly.” It was always a shock to find she was on the family's radar at all, and Pilar was particularly unsettling, sizing her up with a sideways glance and taking in so much more than Georgia ever realized.

“As I understand it, your mother made a commitment to you and your father that she broke. It's not your responsibility to stay there in her place. I'm sure your father wouldn't want that.”

“I don't know,” said Georgia, smiling. “Sometimes it sure seems like he does.”

“It's none of my business,” Pilar said, “but I knew your
mamá
, Georgia. And you're nothing like her.”

“You did?” Georgia asked, startled but fascinated, and feeling a churn of anxiety at what felt like her mother's sudden proximity.

“
Que mujer linda
—so lovely—but totally self-involved. And restless, as you are well aware. A gypsy thing maybe. But she was all
viento
—air—no earth to her at all. Not like you. You keep your feet on the ground. You're solid. She was like a dry leaf, skittering here and there. She did know her horses, though. You two have that in common. Are you in touch?”

“No,” Georgia admitted shamefully.

“No?” Pilar said. “Well. If you were to find you wanted to be, I could help. She was in Ireland last I heard. Remarried that trainer. Let's see if this time it sticks.”

“Ireland?” Georgia asked, feeling rudderless, sad, and strange. “The last I'd heard, she was single in St. Moritz.”

Pilar touched her arm.

“Forgive me for saying this, but your mother never should have tried to tie herself down. It just made her more restless. But you, I think you can be in one place. Just make sure it's the place you want to be,
entiendes
?”

Georgia smiled, nodding. “Yes, I understand.”