24 Hours of Trouble

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

ANTONIO HOVERED OUTSIDE the stable door as I groomed Murphy. It was taking longer than usual because the big grey horse kept fidgeting. He hated Antonio almost as much as I did.

At least Antonio didn’t come into his box anymore, not since Murphy bit him. I’d given my four-legged friend extra carrots for that, but for weeks after, as long as Antonio’s bruise took to fade, I was terrified I’d go down to the stables and find out Murphy had been sent to the knacker’s yard.

The temporary stables, put in especially for the event, buzzed with activity. Riders hovered, chatting, and grooms ran this way and that, getting their charges ready for their moment in the limelight.

Whether at a big show or a small one, I loved that kind of atmosphere. Nervous energy crackled in the air, but the positive kind, with everyone looking forward to the upcoming spectacle.

Well, not quite everyone. Jerry wheeled my tack locker over from the lorry and dumped it between my two stables before stomping off again. Antonio seemed to have gone out of his way to get me a groom who didn’t actually groom. Jerry occasionally took the horsebox off somewhere and washed it, but he spent the rest of his time sprawled on the couch in the living quarters, watching satellite TV.

I’d often wondered why Antonio didn’t pull Jerry up on his lack of work ethic, but came to the conclusion that my beloved boyfriend got some kind of perverse pleasure in seeing me do all the work.

Not that I minded. The horses were my passion. I finished pulling a few stray hairs out of Murphy’s mane and stood back. Yes, it was straight. Both horses were clean and tidy, and I could tell by the way they paced backwards and forwards that they knew something big was coming up.

“Will you tell that nag to stop fidgeting?”

Antonio’s voice came from outside the stable, and I sighed. He didn’t understand horses at all.

“Murphy can’t help it. He’s just excited.” I needed to keep Antonio away from him. The more time they spent near each other, the worse Murphy’s mood got. “Why don’t we go and walk the course?”

The organisers had certainly picked a choice spot for the temporary arena, just fifty metres from La Croisette, the world-famous avenue that ran along the seafront in Cannes. We’d be doing our thing in front of the world’s super rich, who’d sip champagne and nosh on canapés as they watched from their yachts moored close by.

The freshly harrowed sand crunched under my boots as we headed in to take a look. Pristine jumps gleamed in the sun, almost as tall as me, each one artfully constructed with a French theme. Poles suspended between two miniature Eiffel towers, a scale replica of the Arc de Triomphe, and the red, white, and blue of the French flag. The twisty course offered several alternate routes, each presenting its own challenges.

At three of the jumps, I’d have the choice of cutting inside other obstacles to take a shorter approach or going the long way around. The shorter option was harder for the horses but faster, and we’d be running against the clock.

If we didn’t complete the set of jumps within a certain time frame, we’d incur penalty points, which increased with every extra second. We’d also get penalised if our horses knocked a fence down or refused to jump over one.

The twisty options always suited Murphy. The smaller of my two horses, he was made for a course like this as long as he was in the right mood. Harley would have to go the long route or she wouldn’t pick her feet up.

I ran through the course in my head as Antonio strode beside me, bestowing me with his pearls of wisdom, which drove me nuts because he’d never once sat on a horse.

“You have to go the quick route,” he said. “The Whitaker brothers will, and you don’t want to get beaten again.” He emphasised the “again,” and I gritted my teeth.

Antonio did this every time—put his two pennies worth in so if I didn’t win, and I hadn’t done things his way, he could blame it all on me. Trying to explain why I rode the way I did fell on deaf ears. Trial and error had taught me it was simply easier to suck it up after.

“Yes, Antonio.”

As we traipsed around, I couldn’t help but notice the admiring glances he got. It was a well-known fact that there were few straight men on the show jumping circuit, so Antonio got more than his share of attention from the ladies. I could hardly be seen to encourage it, but I lived in the hope that he would trade me in for a new model.

A pompous man wearing a bow tie marched into the ring waving a clipboard.

“The course is closed. Fermé. Geschlossen. Please leave the ring, people.”

As they did every time, the words set off the build-up of nerves in the pit of my stomach. Would I win? Would I take home a cup, a sash, and prize money for my darling boyfriend? Or would I come second or worse, and return to England with bruises instead?

Talk about pressure.

Murphy had his head over the door looking for me when I got back. He put his ears back when he saw Antonio to inform everyone of his distaste. Please, Murphy, don’t get all grouchy.

Jerry skulked around the corner and held out a fancy carrier bag. “The courier just turned up with the new jackets, boss.”

Antonio snatched it off him. “About bloody time. They were supposed to arrive before we left England. At least the incompetent fools managed to get them delivered in time for the competition.”

Appearances meant everything to Antonio. I cringed inwardly as his hand touched my shoulder when he helped me into the navy-blue blouson jacket, embroidered with the name of his company in four different places. Oh yes, I was so proud to represent ADS Enterprises.

I didn’t even know what the sodding company did, not really. Over the years, Antonio had made vague mentions of buying and selling things, but women in the di Stefano family were second class citizens, and the men considered business dealings far too complicated for our tiny, little brains. But whatever Antonio’s job involved, the work could hardly be taxing, could it? Because he spent most of his time tormenting me.

A couple of girls wandered past, and one of them sighed as Antonio straightened my collar.

“Ooh, look, isn’t he a gentleman?”

Once upon a time, I might have rolled my eyes at her comment, but I’d long since learned that any hint at sarcasm was a bad idea. Far better to stay impassive.

Around us, the other riders were starting to get ready, and I didn’t want to be late. If I cut my warm-up short, the horses wouldn’t perform well.

“I’m going to change,” I told Antonio.

“I’ll come with you.”

That was what I’d been afraid of.

In the living area of the horsebox, he watched me as I stripped off, his gaze cold and assessing.

“You’re putting on weight. You need to take more exercise.”

I weighed myself religiously every day, so I knew it was true. Three pounds had crept on, and I’d been praying Antonio wouldn’t notice. I had an awful habit of turning to food when I felt down, and too often lately, I’d reached for the chocolate.

“I’ll spend more time in the gym.”

He leaned over me, running cool fingers up my side. “I’ll give you a workout later.”

That thought made me queasier than the world-class competition I was about to jump in. Because I knew he wouldn’t give me a choice. He never did.

His eyes burned into me as I pulled on my shirt and did the buttons up as fast as I could, hands shaking as I tied my stock. My white jodhpurs, designed to fit me like a second skin, strained slightly at the seams. I’d have bought a size bigger if I were allowed.

“Have you seen the safety pins?”

He shrugged.

I rummaged around in the drawer under the sink and found a couple to attach my number to the back of my black jacket. Wonderful. Lucky thirteen. Somebody up there was having a laugh at my expense.

Finally, I pulled on my black boots, polished to a mirror sheen no thanks to Jerry, and got halfway out of the door before Antonio closed it on my foot.

“Trying to get away without your good luck kiss?” he asked, his tone mocking.

I looked at the floor. “Of course not. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

He tipped my chin up and pressed his lips against mine. When I didn’t immediately yield and allow him access, he bit my lip hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste swirled around in my mouth with his tongue. I tried to show some enthusiasm, but my attempt had all the passion of a dead fish.

Finally, he pushed me away. “I’ll be expecting a bit more effort this evening, Amelia.”

I practically sprinted back to the horses, tears pricking the corners of my eyes. How was I supposed to ride properly when he got me so upset? Murphy in particular was very sensitive to my moods. When I got stressed, it transferred to him and he acted up. At least Harley was first to go. I only hoped I’d be feeling calmer by the time I had to ride the lad.

Harley, as always, did her best to cheer me up, snuffling at my hand as I tacked her up in case I’d brought any treats.

I showed her my empty palm. “I’ve got nothing, sweetie. Later, I promise.”

Antonio opened the door for us so I could lead her out, while Jerry stood in the background, chatting to a couple of the other grooms. Female, of course. Most girls tended to be blinded by his muscles and didn’t see through to his shitty personality.

“Jerry, tack Murphy up, would you?” Antonio said. “Bring him down to the warm-up ring when you’re done.”

He didn’t look happy about it, but he nodded. “Yes, boss.”

I groaned inwardly, as thrilled with that idea as Jerry. He and Murphy were not a good mix. In fact, Murphy hated him almost as much as he hated Antonio. This competition had “disaster” written all over it.

I led Harley outside, and Antonio gave me a leg up onto her. Immediately, I felt at home. Something about being on a horse soothed my soul, no matter how bad things might be. In the warm-up arena, we walked around the outside to loosen up Harley’s limbs, then I urged her into a trot. She obliged beautifully, striding around the track like a dream. The organisers had set up a pair of practice fences in the centre, a high upright and next to that an oxer, which was lower but wider.

Harley cantered up to each in turn, popping over them perfectly. I knew she would. She was a big horse, and they were well within her capabilities.

One by one, the other horses got called through into the main ring, and soon it came to our turn. Antonio came with us, leaning on the fence at the edge with a look of expectation.

A bell trilled, letting me know that I had a minute to start my round. The giant gold wristwatch began its countdown, but I wanted to get it over with as soon as possible, so I set Harley thundering towards the start line, aiming for the first fence of ten.

We cleared the Eiffel Towers and turned towards a double. Harley took it in her stride. The next fence had poles painted like baguettes, and we went the long route to get there. Across the arena, Antonio’s face clouded over as I disobeyed his instructions. A wave of panic ran through me, and I almost missed the turn after. Thankfully Harley pulled it out of the bag, and we cleared a mini Airbus fuselage.

Next up came a treble, and I had to slow Harley up a bit, otherwise her strides would have been too long to fit between the obstacles. The red, the white, then the blue flashed by beneath us.

As I was already in trouble, I steered us on the easier route again for the following jump. It was narrower than all the rest, and Harley wouldn’t get over it if I approached it at an angle. That had happened before. She’d panicked, convinced she wouldn’t fit, and demolished the whole lot.

But this time we flew over, and there were four obstacles left, the Arc de Triomphe flashed beneath us, as did a clapperboard advertising the Cannes Film Festival. A collective intake of breath came from the crowd as Harley’s hooves rattled the top of the second to last, a collection of watch faces courtesy of the event’s main sponsor.

One fence to go. I could see the finish line just beyond, and I let Harley have her head as we galloped towards it. The speed felt appropriate because it was shaped like a racing car. I’d heard a few of the other riders talking earlier—apparently one of France’s other big sporting events, the twenty-four-hour motor race at Le Mans, would be taking place in a couple of weeks.

Harley kicked up her heels as she took off. We’d gone clear!

But what was our time?

The oversized clock glinted in the sun, and I squinted at the display.

Two seconds over.

My feeling of dread returned as I looked over at Antonio. No, he wasn’t amused at all. I slowed Harley as we headed back towards the collecting ring, wanting to delay the lash of Antonio’s tongue as long as I could.

It wasn’t long enough.

“You just don’t listen,” he hissed. “I told you to take the short cuts.”

“But she can’t make those turns.”

He grabbed the reins and pulled Harley to a halt. “I’m the one paying the entry fees. I pay for the horses’ keep. You’ll damn well do as you’re told; do you hear me? On the other one, you take the quick route.”

“Okay, I will.”

I kept my eyes cast downwards while Jerry brought Murphy over. He was dancing around at the end of the rope, agitated already.

Murphy gave me a dirty look as I hopped off Harley and swapped horses with Jerry. Antonio was talking to some other woman by that point, so I led Murphy over to the mounting block to hop on board.

No sooner had my bottom touched the saddle than he leapt into a series of bucks. Clearly, he’d read the instructions wrong and mistaken this outing for a rodeo. I clung on until he ran out of steam, ignoring the concerned looks of the other competitors who hurried to get out of our way. There was no anger from them, just sympathy. Everyone had needed to deal with a difficult horse at one point or another, and it wasn’t the first time Murphy had put on a show like that.

“Give him a wallop,” shouted Antonio.

Oh, like that would help matters. He’d probably already had a thump from Jerry, which was what put him into this mood in the first place. I spoke quietly to him instead, telling him what an i***t the two men were.

He relaxed under me, enough for me to leg him forward into a canter. He popped over the oxer, and then we were called to go into the main ring.

Would this be a miracle or a disaster?