Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Seb
It’s mid-January before I get time to go for a real ride again.
I’ve been taking Stark out for exercise, and Jack and I have had some short rides when he’s been down—because even though the foundation offices were officially closed for two weeks over the Christmas/New Year break, he was still working, getting things organized for his projects in the new year.
I get why, of course—when you might have to drop everything to deal with a disaster at any minute, it pays to not let administrative tasks slide.
But with him working, and those two weeks being our busiest time for trail rides, I haven’t had much time off myself.
I fixed that this morning—now that most companies have reopened their offices and the Australian Open has begun, there are a lot fewer tourists around, and the team, plus our summer casuals, can handle things.
So I saddled Stark, grabbed water and snacks for us both, and went for a long ride.
By the time we get back—both of us tired and a little sweaty but so very happy—it’s almost noon.
I cross tie Stark in the wide, empty hallway and begin the process of unsaddling and then grooming him.
He deserves a thorough brushing today and then plenty more water.
“Seb?” Chris says from behind me, and there’s something in his voice that makes me straighten and turn.
He looks like he’s been sucking on a lemon.
“Why don’t I finish that for you? There’s a visitor waiting in the office.”
“Really?” A visitor?
“Who?” And why does Chris dislike this person so much?
His mouth twists. “Jack’s brother.”
Ohhh.
I sigh. I met Malcolm again at the Tarrant Christmas gathering—which was a lot quieter than my family’s Christmas—and we didn’t exactly hit it off.
He wasn’t rude, exactly, but he and Jack aren’t close and he clearly didn’t have any interest in getting to know me or talking to his brother.
I have no clue why he’d be here now.
For a second, I’m tempted to tell Chris to bring him here.
If he wants to talk to me, he can fit into my schedule.
But he’s still Jack’s brother, and the last thing I want is to be the cause of trouble in the family.
“How long’s he been waiting?”
Chris shrugs.
“Not long—fifteen minutes, maybe? He went up to the house first, but…”
“There’s nobody there today,” I finish.
“Do you have time to take care of Stark?” I’m not adding to his workload if he’s already under the pump.
“Yeah, all good. I’ve got a student in half an hour, but I was just going through the enrolments for the next group of beginning classes.”
Which he can’t do while Malcolm is in the office.
I sigh again and reluctantly hand over the body brush.
“Spoil him, will you? He hasn’t gotten enough attention lately.”
“I got it.”
Leaving him to it, I head toward the office.
I’m still sweaty and dusty, but Malcolm can deal with that.
He knows what stables are like.
I find him sitting on the small sofa against the wall, flicking through Chris’s latest issue of Australian Performance Horse magazine.
“Malcolm,” I greet, and he looks up.
“I wasn’t expecting you. Jack’s not here today, if?—”
“No, I came to see you,” he corrects, standing and sliding his hands into his jeans pockets.
“The other guy said you were riding.”
“Chris? He’s our head instructor,” I say, then wonder why I bothered.
Though Malcolm probably knows Chris’s family, and oh crap, is that why Chris was all frowny?
Did Malcolm say something rude?
“Uh, yeah. I just got back a few minutes ago. If I’d known you were coming, I would have made sure I was here.” Maybe.
“Did you want to go for a ride? Most of the horses are out right now, but?—”
“No, but thanks,” he interrupts me again.
“I might come back for a ride another time. It’s been too long. There just isn’t the time these days, you know?” There’s something pointed in the way he says it that makes my hackles rise.
“Sure. At least I’m here on the farm and can sandwich it in between other things. It’s a lot harder from the city.”
He makes an agreeing noise.
“You’re probably wondering why I’m here.”
Ya think?
“I’m a tiny bit curious, yeah.”
“I was talking to my dad the other day, and he told me who you are.”
That doesn’t clear things up at all.
“Who I am?”
“Uncle Warwick’s charity stable hand.”
Heat rushes up my neck and into my face.
“That’s not how I would have put it,” I manage, and Malcolm waves dismissively.
“I don’t really care that you worked for Uncle Warwick?—”
“That’s big of you.”
“—but when I realized you still work here, I figured it was worth coming down for a chat.”
I’m suddenly so conscious of the fact that he looks like he’s about to spend the day in a suite at the Australian Open, and I’m a sweaty, dirty mess.
“Why’s that?” I think I know where he’s going with this, and it’s not anywhere good.
His mouth curls in disgust. “Don’t be coy. I remember everything Uncle Warwick said about you wanting to own your own stables. Did that get too hard? Decide to marry the owner instead, hm?”
I take an involuntary step back.
I didn’t really think he’d just come out and say it like that.
“I think it’s time for you to leave.”
“You’re kicking me off my brother’s property? That just proves my point?—”
“It proves nothing. I’m the manager here, and it’s in that capacity that I’m asking you to leave. You’re being deliberately insulting and making assumptions about a situation without any facts.” My voice sounds way calmer than I feel, and I mentally pat myself on the back for that.
“Are you going, or do I need to call the police?”
Malcolm scoffs.
“That’s not going to look good for you.”
Meeting his gaze steadily, I say, “I’ve had to call them out to remove rowdy tourists before.”
He must see how deadly serious I am, because he sucks in a breath through his nose.
Expelling it sharply, he says, “I’ll go. But you’re not helping the situation. I just want to look out for my little brother.”
Is…
is he serious? “What?”
“You can see how it looks bad, can’t you? Warwick mentored you with the intention that you’d own a business similar to this. Then he dies, Jack inherits, and suddenly you and Jack are all loved up.”
Oh my god, he’s serious.
“Was this your way of asking my intentions toward Jack?”
“No. Don’t be ridiculous. He’s a grown man. He can date whoever he wants.” His gaze cuts away from mine.
The Tarrant family dynamics are going to be the death of me, I swear.
“Malcolm, this is probably a conversation you should have with Jack, but let me set your mind at ease on some points. I’m with Jack because he’s amazing, not because he owns the Vale. We talked about the fact that I work for him before we hooked up. I’m aware that dating the boss looks bad, but I’m not in a position to find other work right now. Any other concerns you have, you need to talk to Jack about, but maybe take a different approach to what you did with me, because he’ll probably deck you.”
He studies me, and for a second, I wonder if I’ve just made everything worse.
“I’m not saying you don’t care about him?—”
“I’m not getting into this with you any further,” I insist. “If you’re going to stay, we talk about something else, or I’ll find you a mount and you can ride. Otherwise, it’s time to leave, and I will have you escorted off the property if I have to.”
His mouth flattens into a tight line, but he nods.
“I hope you’re on the up and up, because I think I like you. Jack needs someone who’s no bullshit.”
Before I can think of a reply, he heads for the door.
“I’ve got plans for later, so I won’t stick around, but I’ll call next week to set up a good time for that ride. Oh.” He turns back.
“I saw you opened the tennis court. That’s good—the property should be more self-sufficient, since Jack’s too sentimental to sell the land.”
I’m still staring at the empty doorway when Chris appears in it.
“He’s going,” he reports.
“What was that about?”
I shake my head.
“Mate, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
When Jack arrives late the following afternoon, I’m ready to have a Conversation, capital C, with him.
I don’t know if Malcolm has spoken to him or not, but it’s time we address this.
Now that I’m taking a more active part in his public life, it’s probably going to come up from time to time.
I meet him in the front hall, and he’s got a sheepish look on his face.
“So… Mal came to see you.”
At least I don’t have to be the one to tell him.
“Yep. Did he happen to mention why?”
“He did, and I spent forty minutes yelling at him about it. I’m so sorry. You know I don’t believe you’re?—”
“I know. That’s not something I’m worried about.” I point toward the formal parlor, which rarely gets used.
“Let’s sit.”
He grimaces.
“In there? But that’s where…”
“Where serious talks happen and you used to get lectured as a kid? I know. I promise not to lecture, but this is a serious talk.”
Jack’s face goes pale.
“You’re not breaking up with me, are you?”
“No.” I smile at him.
“I’m definitely not doing that.”
Not looking all that reassured, he heads for the parlor and seats himself on the couch.
“Okay. I’m ready.”
“Relax. We’re going to work this out together,” I assure him.
“Work out that my brother is an idiot with the mindset of a nineteenth-century snob? I could have told you that already.”
Sitting beside him, I try not to laugh.
I don’t want to encourage distractions.
“No. Here’s the thing: Malcolm wasn’t wrong. Not about me wanting you because of the business,” I hurry to add, holding up a hand to stop him when he parts his lips.
“But that’s the perception a lot of people are going to have when they find out the details of my background. I do want to own my own stables and riding school, and Warwick mentored me for more than fifteen years. Then he died and I hooked up with you. It’s not a huge leap for people to make.”
“But we’re not breaking up?” he checks, and I shake my head.
“We’re not.”
“I don’t like the alternative implication either,” he says.
“The stables run really well under your management, and you’ve increased our profits and our customer ratings.” He smirks at my surprise.
“Yes, I look at the reports you send me, and I checked the books a while back. I leave you be to handle everything here because you’re doing a good job. I don’t want to have to find a new manager just because people are judgmental.”
Aw.
I take his hand. “I appreciate that. If I’m being honest, I don’t really want to leave. I love it here, and I’ve worked hard to get it to where it is now. Plus, it’s part of Warwick’s legacy, you know? I want to be part of that.”
He’s watching me steadily.
“So what’s the solution then?”
This is where it gets tricky.
I don’t doubt that Jack loves me, but he loves Bliss Vale too—loves everything about it.
I take a deep breath.
“Sell it to me. Not the estate,” I tack on.
“Not the land, either. Sell me the agistment and riding school. I’ll rent the stables and associated land from you, but the business and the horses will be mine.”
For a moment he says nothing, his face carefully blank, and my heart sinks.
I truly believe this is the best step—it will put a degree of separation between our relationship and our business connection, and it’ll stop the rumors that I’m trying to marry into the business I love.
Maybe I underestimated his bond with the property and everything it entails.
“Okay,” he says abruptly.
I blink, not sure I can believe it.
“Okay?”
He nods. “You’re right; this is a good solution. We’ll have it valued and get the papers drawn up officially. I assume you’ll need to talk to the bank about a loan?”
Oh my god, he’s actually agreeing.
“Yeah. I had a chat with them last year, before Warwick died, when I was looking at this place down Philip Island way, and they were pretty positive then. My capital’s increased in the meantime, and I’m not buying land, so…” I trail off.
“You’re really okay with this?”
His face softens and a smile curls his lips.
“I didn’t think I would be, but it feels right. Warwick would have been happy about it. The land will still be mine, and this way, we get a seamless transition to new ownership. I won’t even need to worry about the current manager leaving and me needing to find a new one in the future.” He sighs, but it’s a happy one.
“It’s the logical step.”
I lean in and kiss him hard.
“Thank you.” Bliss Vale Agistment and Riding School is going to be mine!
“Just one thing.”
Pulling back, I meet his gaze.
There’s mischief there.
“What?”
“I want to hire you as a contractor to keep running the rest of the property. The house, the tennis court lease, the gardens… my apartment.”
I laugh.
“So basically you want me to keep doing what I am already?”
“Yep. I’m not good with change, and I like the idea of my hot boyfriend buying my underwear.”
How can I not love him when he says stuff like that?