3. Maggie
Chapter three
Maggie
T he week went by smoothly, and Jack and I quickly learned how to work together.
Though I was his employee, he worked just as hard as I did on every chore.
I learned more about him in five days than I had in the nearly two decades we had known each other.
He was an absolute neat freak, and working out of a barn that got dusty every five minutes only drove him to clean more.
I reminded him that we had horses to care for, and we couldn’t obsess over every little detail.
He would smirk at me whenever I said something he liked, and I would do the same if he made a suggestive comment.
We worked well together. Dare I say, I began to enjoy waking up at five in the morning to feed and exercise horses with him.
I anxiously waited for him to return to his horse trailer after stick-and-balling—practicing hitting a polo ball on the massive, grass polo field.
He wasn’t playing any games this week, but he had a big tournament to prepare for next week.
We worked on getting the horses into tip-top shape, schooling and stick and balling them.
I would throw his water bottle at him after he dropped his mallet on the ground, and he would catch it gracefully every time. Screw him and his perfect reflexes.
I had to admit that Jack was not the stuck-up playboy I painted him as.
He was always eager to engage in conversation, even if it was about nothing.
He often made coffee runs in the morning.
He was kind and gentle to each of his horses.
He knew when and when not to make dirty comments or mess with me about something.
Jack, ranked as a four-goal player—which was extremely impressive for someone so young; even my father didn’t make it to four goals until he was thirty-two—was driven and focused on becoming a better player and finding patrons who wanted him for him , not just because his father recommended him.
Lenz had connected me with a sponsor in Wellington that was looking for a professional for the women’s tournament series coming up in the winter, which had me grinning from ear to ear.
The sponsor offered me horses and accommodations, which were commonly provided for players who moved around by the season.
When the summer polo season in Pennsylvania ended, and it would be too cold to play here, many players opted for Florida in the winter since that was their polo season.
Lenz even offered me a few of his horses to play in an upcoming tournament that needed a player of my ranking.
I planned to improve my skills here so I could play at my best and attract as many opportunities as possible.
The desire to run away from my job and my boss lessened every day.
“I still can’t believe you’re working for him, and you like it,” my friend Luciana scoffed at me as we stood at the clubhouse bar.
The Forrest Hills Polo Club was hosting the Silver Cup kickoff party for all of the new patrons and players coming in for the tournament this weekend, which meant Luciana was on the prowl for her latest catch of the night.
I never said only the men were notorious.
“I don’t know Luc, it’s going pretty okay.”
“Maybe he’s plotting to kill you,” she giggled. She was already tipsy, as her Spanish accent growing heavier was always a tell-tale sign.
I laughed with her. “You never know.”
The polo clubhouse was growing busier with people, which meant Luciana was making lots of new friends at our place at the bar. Since the polo community was so small, we always ran into old friends who played long distances away.
“Oh, my God, is that Maggie Rynne?” A woman’s voice called. It didn’t sound familiar, but there were many people in the polo world I had met as a kid and hadn’t seen in fifteen years, so I always put on a smile and pretended to remember them.
“Hello.” I smiled at the woman I didn’t recognize. She saw my greeting as an okay to hug me and pulled me into her arms. Her pink, silky top smelled of Chanel No. 5, causing me to hold my breath from the heavy amount she must have used.
“Oh, wow, look at you!” she exclaimed, stepping back to examine me.
She was likely in her sixties, with bleached blonde hair and a noticeable amount of Botox.
A large diamond ring on her finger, with a matching tennis bracelet and flashy necklace, suggested she was probably a patron or a wife of one.
Pros usually couldn’t afford that kind of stuff with their endless expenses.
“Do you remember me? Diane Briggs. God, it’s so nice to see you all grown up and still hanging around here.
” Her smile was huge. I still didn’t recognize the name.
“Sorry,” I chuckled and shook my head. “I’m trying to place you. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”
“Oh, don’t even worry about that, honey. You might have only been seven or so when you met me. I was best friends with your mom.”
Ouch. That left a sour taste in my mouth.
I hated it when people brought up my mom.
After she left us, she spread nasty words about my dad to all of her polo friends before cutting all of us off.
Yes, my dad was an awful partner for cheating on her, but I hadn’t seen her since she left thirteen years ago.
It was one thing to leave your disloyal husband, but it was another to leave your nine-year-old daughter and cut contact.
It gutted me to my core. What little girl wasn’t enough to make her mother stick around? Her leaving left a hole in my heart that never healed, that never allowed me to believe that love was lasting or stable. Polo was my stability. It was the only constant in my life that never let me down.
“Wow, that was a while,” I mustered, attempting to push the negative thoughts away. Usually, when my mom was brought up, it ruined my night. Maybe it was time to head home to my loyal companions, Netflix, Ben, and Jerry.
“It’s so good to see you!” Diane kept up with the perky attitude, either disregarding my discomfort or failing to notice it at all. “How is everything going these days?”
“Great! I’m doing well, and you?” I faked my smile so hard my cheeks hurt.
“Well, I’m just amazing. I was married to Rick Donahue last time you saw me, but we’ve since divorced, and now I’m married to Fernando Herreras. You’ve met his son, right? Such a handsome, young player, and he’s your age, too. Would you like to meet him?”
And like she cued him into the conversation, her stepson passed by to get a drink.
“Oh, Marco, come here! Meet this lovely, young lady.” Diane pulled a tall, dark-haired man in front of us. “This is Maggie Rynne. She’s Richard Rynne’s daughter.”
“Nice to meet you.” Marco extended his hand to shake mine with a dazzling smile.
He looked like one of those polo magazine models—the ones with perfect hair and unstained white pants after a game.
He wasn’t as tall as Jack, but he was a damn handsome guy.
His dark eyes glittered with mischief, and his tousled waves framed his face like they were permanent.
“I’m playing in the tournament this week with your dad. I’m the other pro.”
“Nice to meet you, too. My dad is excited to play this weekend. I’m sure you’ll have a great time with him.” Diane had somehow snuck off into another conversation, leaving me alone with Marco.
“So, what is a beautiful girl like you doing at this club? Shouldn’t you be in Wellington playing women’s polo?” he asked, still showing off his pearly whites.
I chuckled uncomfortably at his unsettling—and offensive—comment. “Well, I just graduated from college a few months ago, so I’m working here a little bit before jumping into the big leagues.”
“I’ve heard about you, Maggie. Full scholarship to Virginia’s intercollegiate team— you’re good.”
“Thank you.” I grinned at his compliment. “I haven’t heard about you, but your stepmom speaks highly of you.”
He let out a breathy laugh and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, I’ve got something going for me then, don’t I?”
I laughed too.
“So, tell me, Maggie, what kind of crazy escapades go on at these parties?” he questioned with bright eyes.
“Hmm, the last crazy thing that happened here was probably Mr. Poole from down the road threatening to make a noise complaint about the music. But he keeps his hearing aids all the way up.” I shrugged with a small laugh.
This wasn’t one of those insane party clubs, unless, of course, you were invited to the right parties.
“So you’re saying I have to do something to spice it up?” he suggested with a devious grin. I wasn’t exactly sure where he was going with this, but I knew polo players and their game. They had their ways of getting women.
I arched a brow. “What did you have in mind?”
Marco chuckled and looked around before learning to whisper in my ear. “Want to talk outside? It’s getting a little loud in here.”
Something in my gut told me that wasn’t a good idea.
Marco must have sensed the hesitation on my face, so he took my hand and began to lead me through the crowd of people, accidentally running me into Jack, who was chatting up a beautiful blonde, along the way.
Maybe it was fate, maybe Jack just registered what was going on, but he instinctively grabbed my arm to stop Marco and me from going outside.
“Hey, Maggie! Good to see you.” Jack pulled me into a long hug. It felt strange, considering I saw him three hours ago, but my head told me he was just trying to mark territory that wasn’t his.
“Hey, man, I’m Marco.” Marco greeted Jack the same way he did me, just without the dazzling smile. It was more of an I’ve got dibs on this girl type of look. A professional smile, if you will. And I did not appreciate either of their efforts to claim me.
“Good to see you’re getting to know our famous Maggie.” Jack tipped his chin at me.
Our Maggie?