CHAPTER 6 | Aiden
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Of all the things you want to hear just as you settle into the saddle of a seven-figure, Grand Prix showjumper, ‘Your kids’ school is calling’ is undoubtedly the last.
“Can you get that?” I ask my boss, tightening my saddle’s girth. Normally, I’d have my mobile on me and I would answer it myself—this is the twins we’re talking about here—but taking calls on eleven-hundred pounds of flight animal is beyond stupid, and ‘you break it, you buy it’ is pretty chilling when the asking price is a cool two point five million so Caleb always holds my shite while I’m riding.
“Is everything alright?” the horse’s owner asks, eyeing Caleb and then me. She’s done business with our farm, Jacks or Better, before, but she always acts like she’s doing my boss a favor.
