“Before you hit me again, let me drop this tidbit into your overheated brain. If you don’t take it down tonight just a notch, a tiny notch, Charly, then I go to the press about Renata’s past and about stealing her own horse for publicity.”
“I’ll kill you first.”
Booty, still down, looked at his expensive watch. “Got about two hours to do it. After that we’ll be pushing those clients into the ring.”
Charly stepped back and Booty got up, sauntering off, although he did rub his jaw.
Miss Nasty trundled after him as Spike called down, “Your days are numbered, Nasty. Every cat on this show grounds hates your guts.”
“Oh la.” She lifted her shoulders insouciantly and kept right on truckin’.
Carlos, who’d heard the crunch of fist on jaw, waited until Booty left the barn, then walked into the changing room where Charly was massaging his hand.
Charly looked at him. “I will kill that walking piece of feces.”
J oan felt like she stood at a turnstile, so many people passed through Barn Five, most of them clients, friends of clients, prospective clients. By five-thirty, even before the greatest crush of people, she felt slightly wilted.
“I’ll do the shake-and-howdy for twenty minutes,” Harry offered. “You sneak off and drink a nice tall iced tea with a sprig of mint. That will refresh your spirits.”
Joan wryly smiled. “You sound like my mother.”
“How is Mother?”
“Hasn’t spoken to me since she learned about the pin.” Joan brightly smiled as another person came forward. “Well, Mr. Thompson—”
“John, please.”
“This is Mrs. Haristeen, and there are drinks and sandwiches in the hospitality room. Dad will be here shortly.”
The square-built, middle-aged man smiled back. “Thank you.”
As he walked into the room, Joan whispered, “Looking for a roadster. Dad called me and told me he’d be here probably before Dad and Mom got here. I don’t have but so many roadsters. That’s Dad’s thing.”
From time to time, Paul enjoyed donning the silks to whiz around the ring, although he’d decided to take it easy this Shelbyville, which proved a prescient decision.
As if on cue, both women looked down toward Charly’s barn by the practice ring. They saw Charly, his hand wrapped in Vetrap, a sky-blue thin ice pack underneath. He and Renata stood just outside the barn to the side.
“Hmm.” Joan squinted. “Looks intense.”
Harry noticed their shoulders raised up, faces flushed. “Yes, it does.”
Spike, sitting behind them on the grass for a breath of fresh air, heard the whole thing.
“Shouldn’t you put that in a bucket of ice?”
“I need to use my hand, Renata. Remember, there’s only Carlos. The rest of the help ran like rabbits when INS raided.”
“Guess I would, too.” She reached for his hand, gently looking at it. “Good you put the Vetrap on, it will keep the swelling down. Charly, how can you ride like this?”
“I have to. I have to win.” His chest expanded and he breathed hard, for it hurt even to have her hold his hand. “Look, this can’t wait. I have to know something. Did you work as a call girl in New York and L.A.?”
Stunned, she stammered, “No. I was a messenger. I rode a bike. Whatever gave you that idea?”
“Booty. When I threatened you Wednesday and said, ‘I know about you,’ he called in some chits. He said you worked for a high-class escort service.”
“Charly, if that were the case, don’t you think it would have hit the tabloids sometime during my career? It’s ridiculous.”
“You could have paid people off.”
“Not the tabloids.” She dropped his hand. “How could you even listen to such trash?”
“You’re in a hard business, and thousands of beautiful women think they can achieve what you’ve achieved, Renata. And most of them don’t come from solid backgrounds, if you know what I mean.”
Fire flashed in her eyes. “You mean they’re poor, they’re from broken homes—like me. Trash, in fact. You think because someone started life on the short end they have no morals?”
“I think the kind of narcissistic ambition it takes to be an actress could lead any woman into anything.”
“Jesus Christ, look who’s talking. Narcissus!”
“Oh, come on. It’s not the same. I would never have had to rent my body to get ahead in this world.”
“Well, Charly Trackwell, I never did, either, and I come from hunger. I worked hard. I took jobs that allowed me to study, but I never sold my body, and I never would. I can’t believe you. I can’t believe you would even consider such slander.” She told the truth.
He wavered. “It’s been a rough week. Maybe my judgment is shaky. But he seemed so sure.”
“Then tell him to give you names and numbers. I will call them myself. Actually, I won’t. I’ll have my lawyers call them, and I will sue their sorry asses into next week. I wouldn’t mind suing Booty, either, but he needs to say it to my face.” Her face, crimson, betrayed her emotions.
Spike moved forward until he was three feet behind Charly.
“You’d sue?”
“You bet.”
Charly exhaled deeply. “I’m sorry.”
The fact that she would sue convinced him Booty did make it up.
“Have you thought that he’s trying to throw you off tonight? He wants this win.”
“He also threatened to tell everyone, media included, about that and that you stole your own horse for publicity’s sake.”
A long cold moment followed. “Did he?”
“Said he’d tie you, me, and Ward up together. Ruin your career.”
“He can try.” Renata had steel in her spine. “He has to prove it. If he doesn’t, he winds up in court. Do you need me to help you since you can’t use your right hand?”
Surprised at this shift of subject matter, Charly blinked, then shook his head. “I can manage.”
“Good. I’m going to pay a call on Booty Pollard, and when I’m finished, he’ll have lost his focus for the five-gaited stake.”
Charly smiled slowly. “Renata, you could make any man lose his focus.”
“Only if he has a set of balls,” Renata sharply replied, then added, “Would you have honored your proposal if I had been a call girl?”
His eyes looked downward, then up to hers. “No. I can’t have a whore for a wife.” He didn’t consider that he was a thief.
“There are all kinds of whores, Charly. You might qualify yourself. I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on earth.”
Now his face turned red. “Because I thought you were? Come on, it’s not such a far putt.”
“No, that doesn’t upset me as much as the fact that you wouldn’t marry me if I had made a mistake like that.” She glanced down at Spike, who was paying rapt attention, then up to Charly. “To love is to forgive, to accept. You don’t truly love me. You only love yourself. I deserve better.”
She left him standing there, his hand throbbing even more, and she moved fast toward Booty’s barn.
Joan said to Harry as they watched her, “Trouble in paradise.”
“I’d say that Charly’s goose is cooked.” Harry still hadn’t mentioned Renata’s intent to move back to Charly’s barn and was glad she hadn’t.
“From the looks of it, Booty’s in for a blast.” A devilish moment overtook Joan. “I can’t stand it. I’m going to have to promenade by Booty’s barn.”
Just then Mrs. Murphy and Pewter shot out in front of them, Tucker and Cookie immediately behind.
“Curiosity killed the cat,” Cookie opined, her little tail nub straight up.
“It’s Mom and Joan who are curious. I’m going as a guard,” Pewter half-fibbed.
The small contingent, twenty yards from the front of Booty’s barn, heard Renata’s rising tone. Booty’s responses were lower.