Zara Stoneley - Stable Mates

Lottie ignored her. ‘And three, you’ve only done it to get in his good books. What are you up to, Pippa? I mean he’s not really your type is he? I thought you’d done all that, I thought you said you were sick of primping pretty boys and wanted a down-to-earth man. Or else why did you come here?’

‘I have and I am, but he is pretty.’ Pip sounded wistful. ‘And rich, and caring. Do you know he’s involved in this dog rescue thing?’

‘No, I didn’t.’ She sighed and wondered what else she didn’t know. ‘But you seem to know an awful lot about him.’ And you fancy him.

‘I did an interview with him last year, which is why my ed. gave me a nudge when she heard he was moving here. He needs a friend, Lottie, and I have decided to nominate myself. We’ve got common ground, know the same people.’

‘What if he moved here to get away from “common ground”? Like you supposedly did? He might just want to be with his daughter and desperate dogs. Or he might have more in common with Tiggy.’

‘What would a well-groomed model have in common with tatty Tiggy?’

‘You can be so mean, I’m sure she’s got a very attractive side.’ Lottie grinned. ‘Dogs. That’s what they have in common.’

Pip, sure that the grin meant Lottie was weakening, pushed on. ‘Oh, go on, give it a go. I bet she’s a lovely girl underneath all that black eyeliner.’

‘She’s a bored teenager.’

‘She is horse mad, Tom said. Which is partly why he came here. He is so keen to get her into the pony club and all that, he wants to give her some stability, and I think he’s loaded, you know. He’s so successful, and,’ she moved closer so if there had been anyone in the toilet cubicles they couldn’t hear, ‘the rumour is that he comes from a mega-rich family, apparently. He’ll probably buy her a pony and sponsor you as well.’

‘You’re like a hound moving in for the kill.’

‘Thank you.’ Pip grinned. ‘So, it’s agreed?’

‘No, Pip. Nothing is agreed. I’ll think about it. Now, didn’t you promise me champagne and a pizza?’

‘Look, it’s not really for me, it’s not that I’m after him, but he’s a lovely guy and I reckon I can spin a whole load of work out of this.’

‘So, it’s business, not pleasure?’

‘Well, there’s no harm in mixing it a bit, is there?’ Pip linked her elegant, long-fingered hand through Lottie’s arm and more or less dragged her from the safety of the ladies washroom.

‘And he’s too old for you.’

‘He looks very well maintained to me.’

***

Tom loved his daughter with a strength that was a constant cause of amazement. He’d been brought up in a household where a father considered his duty was done when he paid for the food on the table and showed up at weekends to eat it. The fact that he’d been genuinely interested in his daughter since the day she’d whimpered her way into his life was a totally unexpected bonus.

When he’d married the heartbreakingly beautiful Tamara (as the press coined her), there had been a flicker of hope in his life that had outshone everything to date. Someone finally loved him, cared about the same things that he did, he finally had someone to share his life and future with. And then he’d found out that ‘breaking’ was the key word in Tam’s life, not ‘heart’.

The spectacular wedding that she had orchestrated had been bank-breaking, but he’d agreed. After all, whereas for him, constantly in the spotlight, a quiet wedding in an idyllic location would have been perfect, he appreciated that for her the wedding was a highlight, her moment of glory. And how could he refuse? She was like a beautiful pedigree cat, gorgeous, demanding but loving and cajoling to the point of suffocation. Tamara wanted to be pampered and adored, naively he’d thought that was temporary, not an integral part of her make-up.

The wedding was just the start. When Tam had said ‘I do’, she was launching herself into what she’d always desired – a glamorous lifestyle. The unspoiled beauty wanted to be spoiled, big time. After all, Tom was a sought-after model, he was sent designer clothes daily, and tickets for every movie premiere, theatre performance and nightclub opening. He should have been perfect. They were the most attractive, in demand couple of the decade. They would live a jet-set life and have fun. Or so Tamara had assumed.

He couldn’t blame her for getting frustrated by the reclusive bore he longed to be. Whatever his father had failed to give him in terms of time and loving, he couldn’t avoid passing on his genes. He was a banker, he thought things out logically and planned for the future. And that DNA was passed on to his son, along with his wife’s attractive features and willingness to please. Tom wanted to please his adorable wife, but he couldn’t keep up with the demands. Away from his work he needed downtime, needed to slow down and imbue his life with structure. He wasn’t a rich, good-looking playboy, he was a guy who rescued sick animals and liked a long country walk to help him unwind.

No, Tom couldn’t blame Tamara for falling out of love with him, but he could blame her for hitching up with his manager, fleecing him and then disappearing off to Spain. But out of the whole fiasco there had been a divine gift. Their daughter. And the fact that her mother, his ex-wife, was as disinterested in Tab as his father had been disinterested in him was, as far as he could see, a bonus. True, he did believe that a child needed its mother, but Tamara was no more mature than a sixteen-year-old herself, and her lifestyle choices were not ones he’d want inflicted on any daughter, let alone his. He would never stand in their way if they wanted to spend more time together, but at the moment, from his perspective, the fact that they were in different countries was more of an advantage than a disadvantage.

Coming to Tippermere had been a move he had not consulted his daughter about, and so far she had not been impressed, but he knew he could win her over. The village could be good for both of them. No, not could, would. And whilst he had some misgivings about the media-happy Philippa, he was convinced she was the answer to many of the current questions life posed. The main one being, how to convince his daughter that this backwater was a taste of heaven?

He watched the two girls make their way back to the table. The slim, well-groomed, efficient-looking Pippa who would have blended in effortlessly on one of his shoots. Confident of her own abilities, the type who would manage your diary, massage your ego and add an efficient dose of sex into the mix if you both needed some stress-relief. Lottie looked an altogether different cup of tea. She had the toned body of an athlete and the bronze sheen of a sun lover – he found himself wondering about the presence or absence of tan lines. Sex with Lottie, he’d hazard a guess, would be messy and fun, not that he was going to get involved with anyone out here. And the sudden image of her tapping a whip against her strong thigh brought a shudder that he couldn’t quite place. Formidable and fun were not two words he’d ever put together before, but from the look in her eye, Lottie was the type of girl who could take control easier than she could give it away.

‘Are we going to be hanging here much longer, Dad?’

‘That depends on whether you want to meet some world-class riders or just plod along with the pony clubbers I guess, Tabby. Up to you.’

‘She doesn’t look like a world-class rider.’

Tom bit back the response with a smile. She did to him. ‘Everything okay, ladies? I ordered that bottle of champagne, hope you don’t mind?’

‘Mind? I could murder a drink right now. You have got no idea what kind of a day I’ve had.’ Lottie had the glass to her lips and had taken a greedy mouthful before she had even sat down properly. ‘You’re a lifesaver, but if you really want to win my heart, tell me you’ve ordered food as well. Rory was in such a bad mood he wouldn’t even let us stop to get a burger.’