Nacho Figueras Presents (10 page)

There was a coin toss, and the teams were off. Alejandro caught the ball and sent it hurling down the field with a mighty stroke of his arm and all the players followed it at breakneck speed.

The game was not what Kat had expected. She had imagined something more genteel. But seeing it live like this—taking it out of the imagined realm of British princes and ladies in white gloves—thrilled her. This was brutal, and fast and dangerous. There was incredible strength in these players and ponies. Sometimes the ball would get hit so hard, and go so fast, that Kat couldn't even track it. It would hurl up into the bright blue sky, and she would squint to see where it went, and she might as well have been looking for the stars at noonday—it would just be gone—and then, all of the sudden, it would come rushing back down and hit the ground, and the players and their ponies would foam around it in a wave of horseflesh, fighting it out, until it was caught up again.

The ponies thundered past them, mere inches from the sideboards, and Kat could hear the sounds of their hooves hitting the ground and the heavy, ragged snorts of the horses. She felt the strength and speed of the animals in her very bones and wondered how it would feel to be a player in this game, to be clinging to a flying beast as it forced its way through the other ponies, how anyone ever got up enough nerve to lean down and try to hit that tiny white ball while moving at an unbelievably rapid velocity.

Alejandro hit the ball to Rory, who knocked it back through the goal. The announcer yelled the score and Rory's name, and the crowd cheered wildly. The ball was thrown back in, and the players set off full-tilt back down the pitch.

Kat thought of Victoria—all those years before—insisting that she be allowed her place on the field. She watched the players rush by and could imagine the Del Campo matriarch among them—braver and better than them all—muscling her way through the other players, leaning dangerously to hit the ball right under her pony's neck, laughing as she scored, cantering her pony off the field when the horn blew and it was time for fresh horses.

It was all magnificently, beautifully, frighteningly fun and dangerous, and she suddenly understood its siren's call.

Kat turned to Sebastian, and she could see her own excitement reflected in his eyes. She grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Will you take me riding after this?” she whispered to him. “I want to feel it for myself.”

T
he Del Campo family team won, of course. Sebastian had never doubted that they would take the win, even with that joke of a player, Stone, in his place. Exhibition game or not, La Victoria had played with their usual passion and brio and had pretty much wiped the field.

As the team lined up at the presentation stand to receive their silver award plates, Sebastian couldn't help smiling as Alejandro's bay stallion, Temper, was led out and given the Best Playing Pony blanket. But the glow of warmth he felt for the headstrong little horse was erased as soon as they announced Mark Stone as MVP.

Alejandro took the mic, explaining to the crowd that, in polo, MVP wasn't always about who scored the most points, but rather, who showed the most heart, and since this had been Stone's first pro game ever, the team had decided that he had more than deserved the honor.

“How much more do you think he paid for that?” snorted Sebastian to his mother.

Pilar just shot him a sidelong look of warning in response and kept up her enthusiastic applause.

“Now, I hope you will all join us under the tent for a wonderful dinner—traditional Argentine barbecue—and the chance for us to pick your pockets for even more donations for our foundation,” said Alejandro, and the crowd laughed good-naturedly.

As he watched the spectators swarm around the players, shaking hands and taking pictures, Sebastian knew he was being an ass for feeling anything less than happy that his brother's foundation had just raised well over a million dollars for a bunch of kids who really needed it. He'd worked with some of these teens himself—teaching them to groom and ride, giving them an escape from the crushing poverty of the inner city—and he knew what a life-changing experience it could be for them. But he was surprised to find that he could not seem to get rid of the bitter taste in his mouth, watching the game from the outside.

He looked over at Kat, who was standing apart from the crowd, jotting down something in her notebook. She'd had exactly the reaction he had hoped—she had fallen for the game right before his eyes. She'd seen the power and beauty and the danger on the field, and it had obviously excited and inspired her. So why didn't he feel better about it?

He supposed that maybe she and his mother had been right—he
was
jealous, but not in the way they assumed. He was jealous because he had only been a spectator to Kat's feelings, not the direct cause. He wasn't really sure what version of himself she knew if she didn't know the man who rode and played.

He watched Kat write. A curl from her pinned-up hair had fallen, and it clung to her long, graceful neck. She looked up for a moment and caught him staring at her, and she threw him a slow and dazzling smile from behind her ridiculously oversized sunglasses before she bent her dark head back down to her work.

He felt a twist in his gut. She was so beautiful. She made him want things he had never known he could want before now. He felt a brand-new world open up when he looked at her.

K
at spotted Camelia near the ponies and stopped writing to head over to her. As she crossed the pitch, she realized that Camelia was her one true connection to the horse world. From the time they were girls, Camelia had been horse crazy. And not just horse crazy in the way that most little girls were temporarily horse crazy—but truly in deep. She started trading farm work for lessons by the time she was twelve, doing grunt work at whatever barn was willing to hire her, learning how to groom, and finally finding a more permanent position at fourteen with a wealthy older couple who lived and breathed dressage.

Camelia fell in love with her horse, Skye, a high-stepping chestnut Oldenburg stallion, while he was being boarded at the barn where she worked. The owner, a wealthy horse world dilettante named Kurt Junkins, showed up only once every couple of months or so and was always frustrated by his inability to make the sensitive horse obey. But Camelia exercised the horse every day and built a bond with him that far surpassed anything the animal felt for his absentee owner.

One day, Camelia came up from the riding ring to see Junkins atop Skye, driving him with a whip and galloping down the gravel driveway. The high-strung horse was rolling his eyes and resisting, and, Camelia later told Kat, she knew what was going to happen seconds before it actually did. The horse slipped on the gravel, going to its knees, and the owner was catapulted off and fell heavily onto the driveway.

Camelia sprinted right past the man to the horse, running her hands down its legs, desperate to make sure the animal was okay.

Junkins got up eventually—he'd merely knocked the wind out of himself—and came at the horse with his whip.

Camelia threw herself between them before she could even think.

Kat liked to think of her fierce little friend, protectively backed up against the great big hulk of a horse, boldly facing down the enraged owner.

In the end, without any idea how she was going to do it, Camelia had desperately offered to buy the horse for even more than it was worth, and Junkins had spat on the ground and said he'd be better off without the dumb animal anyway.

Camelia worked off that debt, plus the cost of boarding Skye, for five more years at that farm, and she'd never complained.

Sometimes Camelia would try to get Kat to come with her to the farm, but Kat always had an excuse not to go, having convinced herself that she simply wasn't interested in horses. But deep down, Kat had nursed a sliver of jealousy, seeing her friend so deeply enmeshed in a world that she could only view from the outside.

It was, thought Kat, very strange to suddenly be so firmly on the inside of that world now.

“Hey,” said Kat, giving Camelia a friendly little shove on the shoulder. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Camelia looked up from the pile of halters she was sorting and grinned. “Holy shit, girl! Look at you! What are you doing here all dolled up like one of the beautiful people?”

Kat smiled ruefully. “I'm here with Sebastian.”

Camelia's eyebrows flew up. “You guys are still together? But it's been, like, a month.”

“So? A month isn't that long.”

“Trust me, it is for Seb. So that's why you couldn't hang out with me—you've been boning my boss.”

Kat rolled her eyes. “Still the same old Cam.”

Camelia laughed. “Hey, I'd be boning him, too, if I ever got the chance.” She looked over toward the tent. “Oh my God, is the
señora
here, too? You're hanging with the whole family?”

Kat shook her head. “I was ambushed. Sebastian says they don't know anything's going on, but I get the sense that he's being purposefully obtuse.”

“Well, why should it matter? What do they care if you guys are seeing each other?”

Kat shrugged, a little embarrassed. “I don't know. From the looks Georgia and Pilar are giving each other behind my back, I get the feeling I'm not necessarily welcome.”

“What? No way. Dr. Georgia isn't like that at all, she's no snob. And actually, I've never known the
señora
to be either. I mean, at least not about that sort of thing. If they're giving each other looks, I bet they're just in shock that Sebastian brought someone to meet them who wasn't pumped full of silicone.”

Kat laughed. “Maybe. But it still feels a little weird. It's one thing when it's just me and Sebastian having a little fun, but my mom works for his mom, you know? I mean, I've actually cleaned the toilets in their mansion.”

Camelia made a face. “I suppose that could be awkward.”

Kat shook her head. “Anyway, I should go face down dinner. I just wanted to say hi real quick. I'll call you later, I swear.”

“Okay, but hey, Kat, remember, you might have scrubbed their toilets, but none of them have been nominated for an Oscar, right?”

Kat smiled at her friend. “Not as far as I know anyway.”

Sebastian had been cornered by Liberty Smith's billionaire husband, David Ansley. He was a short man with visible hair plugs, a barrel chest, and a deep, dark tan. He seemed to know absolutely nothing about polo, and didn't care to learn much more.

“Far as I can see, it's basically just croquet on horseback, eh?” he said to Seb with a shrug. “I'm only here because Liberty dragged me by the balls. She's got a thing for horses.”

Sebastian looked over at the movie star, who was taking pictures with fans on the field. A group of admirers hovered around her, waiting their turns. “I see,” he said politely.

“And I figured going to this thing was easier than buying her another horse.”

“Oh, does she keep horses?”

“She's got, like, twenty, but she's so busy, she doesn't get a chance to ride very often. Which never stops her from buying another one, of course.”

Sebastian nodded, looking around for an excuse to escape. “Of course.”

“Yeah, well, I hear you're a pretty good rider, right? You need some work? Maybe you can give her lessons sometime or something.”

Sebastian smiled, amused. “I do not generally teach. I'm really just a player. And right now”—he held up the cast on his arm—“I'm not even playing.”

Ansley shrugged. “Everyone's got a price.”

Sebastian saw Kat walking back toward him, her white dress molding to her curvy shape as she strode across the field. He took a deep breath. “If you'll excuse me,” he said to Ansley without taking his eyes off her.  

He met her halfway across the field, wishing he could steal a kiss but knowing they were on display. She smiled up at him.

“So just how good is this Argentine barbecue they keep talking about, huh?” she said.

He smiled. “The best,” he said and couldn't resist taking her hand.

They found their seats at the Del Campo family table. Sebastian's mother and sister-in-law were already there. Pilar was still holding baby Tomás and nodding and smiling at a small crowd of well-wishers.

Georgia smiled at them as they sat down. “Did you enjoy the game, Kat?”

Kat smiled broadly in return. “It was amazing. I can't wait to write about it.”

“Yes,” said Pilar, turning away from her admirers, “Sebastian told us about your plan for Victoria's diaries. How exciting. My mother-in-law lived quite an interesting life, no?”

Alejandro and Mark Stone, both still wearing their game jerseys, joined them at the table.

“Who is living an interesting life?” said Alejandro, smiling at his mother and wife and taking his son onto his lap.

Pilar leaned over and kissed her son. “
¡Ay, hijo!
You were
increíble
.” She patted his cheek. She turned to Mark Stone. “You, too,
Señor
Stone. Excellent first game.”

Sebastian snorted, and Georgia kicked him under the table.

“I'm Kat Parker,” said Kat when Alejandro turned to her. “That was an amazing game.”

Mark Stone looked at Kat like an adoring puppy. The obvious glow of admiration in his eyes did nothing to make Sebastian like him any better. “It was completely awesome,” gushed Stone. “I can't believe I got anywhere near that field.”

“Me neither,” muttered Sebastian.

Alejandro shot him a warning look. “Ah,
Señora
Parker's daughter.
Sí
,” he said, “I should thank you for keeping my brother busy with your project. Otherwise I'm afraid he'd be in a bar figuring out how to break his other arm.”

Sebastian felt a flash of annoyance, but took a large drink of his wine and then turned to Stone, trying to keep his temper in check. “Good game,” he said begrudgingly. “Did you enjoy riding Stella?”

Stone smiled and blinked foolishly. “Now, let's see, which one was Stella?”

Sebastian choked on his wine. Georgia looked worried, and his mother quickly shook her head at him. He ignored them and glared at Stone. “The first pony you rode.
My
pony. I trained her myself.”

Stone didn't seem to notice Sebastian's displeasure. “Oh yes, the first one. She was the gray? No, wait—she was a roan, right? She was great. Well, they were all great, really. I mean, the whole thing was just a total blast.”

Sebastian gritted his teeth. “Yes, well, they say that the pony makes the rider.”

Stone nodded in agreement. “Totally. It's kind of like playing video games, you know? Like the horse is the joystick and you're just shooting all over the pitch.”

Sebastian felt his mouth drop open.

“Anyway,” Stone said, and stood up, “would anyone like a drink? I think I'm going to have something a little more celebratory than wine.”

They all declined, and he wandered off toward the bar. Sebastian turned to Alejandro. “Nice choice,” he said. “Seems that he really respects the ponies.”

Alejandro held up his hand. “
Basta ya, Sebastian
,” he said quietly. “Not now.”

“I notice that
choto
wasn't riding any of your favorites, though, eh?” he said to his brother.

“Well, it's not as if anyone is riding your ponies at the moment. And maybe he was not experienced, but he was playing with heart and joy, which is more than I can say for your time on the field lately.”

Sebastian threw down his napkin and stood up, but Pilar put a restraining hand on his arm. “
Hijos
,” she murmured, looking at both of her boys, “not now. Not here.”

Sebastian took a deep breath. He could see that people around them were starting to stare. He looked down at Kat, who gazed back at him with concern.

“
Lo siento
, Katarina, but I am afraid I have lost my appetite. Would you mind terribly if we left a bit early?”