Chapter Four #2
Kelley set the dessert box on a round table between the two tall-backed chairs near the wall.
If she noticed his suitcase stashed there, too, she didn’t give anything away or press him.
As if she understood it was one of his not-so-interesting stories about how he was avoiding the bedroom wing.
Most specifically the room he used to share with his twin.
No matter really. He was there for a week.
There was little sense in making himself at home.
Kelley joined Asher at the closet and stood close enough that he caught the scent of vanilla and spice. Fitting for his chef, he supposed. Asher tugged on the piece of paper sticking out from the top drawer of the filing cabinet and grimaced. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a paper bank statement.”
“Never,” Kelley said, disbelief tingeing her words.
“My entire life is digital.” Asher tossed the paper statement onto the pile of paperwork strewn on the top of the stack. Frowning, he said, “Everything I need is either in an app or in the cloud. I don’t do paper.”
“Seriously. No paper.” Kelly chuckled and asked, “What if you’re at work and you need to take a note? Surely, you’ve got a notepad or sticky note pad on your desk?”
Asher saw the spark in her hazel eyes but refused to be drawn in. He pulled out his phone and flashed it at her. “I have digital notes. There is literally an app for just about everything these days.”
“Then this must be difficult for you.” She smoothed out her expression, yet her grin slipped out, granting him a glimpse of her matching dimples.
She had no idea. “This is horrifying,” Asher said. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
All he knew was that he seriously needed to stop noticing every little thing about her. It would do no good later when he was back in the city and trying to forget her.
“There’s only one thing to do,” Kelley said, her tone matter-of-fact. “You’re going to have to organize everything first.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that.” Asher frowned then brightened. “Please tell me there is an app for that. There has to be.”
“I’m afraid not.” Kelley walked around him then picked up a pen and notepad from the desktop. “This requires something a bit more old-fashioned like labels and folders.”
“There is nothing the least bit appealing about this.” Yet, there was so much appealing about her. Asher pulled a box off the top of the filing cabinet and set it in the center of the floor.
“What are you looking for anyway?” Kelley asked.
“A reason,” he said simply.
Kelley crossed her arms over her chest and studied him. Her eyes widened and her tone lowered. “You mean a reason for Sovereign Pride’s doping.”
She was smart and quick to catch on. He always admired that in a cowgirl. He nodded and took another box from the closet.
“You don’t believe your dad did it, do you?” she asked.
They were waiting for the two independent labs to confirm the results of the drug test taken on the day of the race.
From his research during his flight from New York to Kentucky, Asher learned the race day drug test had an extremely low percentage of false positive.
He suspected the independent labs would confirm the positive drug test result.
The only new information would most likely be the exact drug used.
He ran a hand over his head and said, “I know Pride was disqualified after the last race of the Laurel Legacy Circuit because of a failed drug test. That win would have cemented his place and Blackwell’s in history.
I know the stables were fined, Pride’s winnings rescinded and our three-year-olds sanctioned from racing.
” The National Racing Compliance Agency would not have done all that on a whim or an unreliable drug test.
“But your dad,” she said, her words soft and insistent.
“Walter wasn’t like your dad, Kelley,” he confessed. Her father was the retired fire chief of Gold Finch County, and he always got along with everyone in town. No one ever had a bad word to say about him. Asher always liked Neven Munroe.
“I don’t believe Walter would have done that to his horse,” she argued.
Asher wasn’t quite so certain. Talk about being disloyal to his family. One more way he let down Walter, he supposed. He rubbed his chest.
“Walter could be curt and cantankerous sometimes, but he loved his family, his horses and this town,” Kelley insisted. “He cared a lot more than he ever let on.”
“I want to believe you,” Asher said, surprised to realize he meant it. There was just so much history between him and his father to wade through. It was like quicksand; if he lingered too long, it would pull him under.
“Did you know we have Friday Freebies once a month at the Galloping Fork?” she stated then continued, not waiting for his response, “It’s for all the first responders and medical personnel. They get to eat free all day.”
Asher scratched his cheek and said, “They deserve it. That’s a nice way to give back.”
“Your dad was the silent sponsor,” Kelley said and watched him.
“He covered the whole tab?” Asher asked.
Kelley nodded. “Never missed a month and he’s been doing it for years according to Pauline.”
“I’ll cover it now,” Asher said. “Silently. Same as my dad.”
Kelley shook her head. “I wasn’t pitching you on becoming the sponsor. I was trying to show that your dad…”
“I want to do it,” Asher cut in then added, “And I know what you were doing.”
Showing him that she had a big heart and saw the best in those around her like her own father. Risky, that. After all, the bigger the heart, the harder it broke. She should take care not to show him too much. He knew a bit more about how to break a heart like hers than protect it.
She removed the cover on a file box and asked, “Do you want this sorted by year?”
“We still haven’t sorted out the catering,” he said. “Until I know the state of the financials, I’m not sure how much I can pay you for your catering services.”
“We can work it out.” She took a manila folder from the box.
“Kelley,” he said and set his hand on the folder she held. “I can’t let you cater here without paying you.”
She chewed on her bottom lip and considered him then asked, “How about a trade?”
Too curious not to see this through, he countered, “What kind of trade?”
“I will cater if you let Frannie apprentice here,” she said then added, “Frannie wants to be a jockey. It’s all she’s ever wanted to do. She just needs someone to give her a chance and help her become better.”
There was something about Kelley that made Asher feel better. He didn’t want to disappoint her. Still, he asked, “Do you really want your little sister to work here, given all that’s going on?”
“I really want someone besides me and my parents to recognize her potential and believe in her like we do.” Kelley set her hand on his arm. Her words were earnest. “Frannie might not have the pedigree, but she will work harder than anyone here. I can promise you that.”
He couldn’t deny another set of hands was needed and it wasn’t like the stables had a line of applicants applying to work here.
Kelley wasn’t concerned about the doping allegations.
Still, he would do everything in his power to make sure Frannie’s experience was beneficial, not detrimental, to her future jockey career.
“Done. Tell Frannie to meet me at the stables tomorrow morning at six. We can get a feel for what she knows and find a place for her.”
“Really? Just like that?” She searched his face. Hope swirled in her expressive eyes.
“Yes.” He wanted to grin when her smile stretched into her cheeks. He stepped away and said, “But that is not an even exchange. I will have two talented Munroe sisters helping the stables. What do you get out of all this?”
“Let’s call it a chance to try out new recipes,” she hedged.
“What else?” he pressed.
“You aren’t going to let this go, are you?” She set her hands on her hips and faced him.
He saw it then. Just a quick peek at her grit. One more thing he liked about her. Not that he was keeping count. He shook his head. “I told you I’m looking into my father potentially drugging his horse to win. Now tell me. What’s your agenda?”
She blew out a breath and brushed a strand of her hair off her face. “The diner is going up for sale. Depending on who buys it, I want to have a viable fallback plan. That’s catering.”
“Why don’t you buy the diner?” he asked. “That seems like the most logical plan since you aren’t going back to New York.”
“What?” she asked, her confusion genuine. “That’s not what I want to do.”
What do you want, cowgirl? Wait. That wasn’t his concern. Asher picked up the dessert box, reached inside and lifted a turnover out. He took a large bite and savored the blackberries inside. He had the pastry polished off in a matter of seconds. “That is phenomenal, by the way.”
“Thanks,” she chuckled and asked, “So, do we have a deal? I cater and Frannie apprentices.”
Asher helped himself to a second pastry, ate it just as quickly then wiped his palms on his jeans and said, “We have a deal. And I still intend to pay you.”