Page 7 of Saddles & Suits

She sighs and yawns and says, “I’m awake now. It’s not that early; I would have been up soon anyway. What’s up? It’s not a work problem, because I told the switchboard to call me instead of you.” We only have to work on weekends when there’s some kind of disaster the foundation’s relief team is needed for, or if we’re fundraising.

I hesitate, then take the plunge. “I had an idea about what to buy Sebastian. Oh, thanks, by the way.” I don’t need to explain what I mean. Sarah’s already laughing.

“Oh my God, please tell me you said something dumb, or at least that your jaw dropped.”

“He introduced himself as Seb Walker, and I asked him where Sebastian was,” I tell her dryly, and her laughter gets louder. “So I think we can tick the ‘said something dumb’ box.”

“I’m sorry, but I wish I’d been there,” she confesses. “When you asked me if he’d been thinking of retirement…”

“Yeah, yeah.” I can’t hold back my grin, and I’m glad she can’t see it.

“Anyway.” She takes a deep breath and sobers. “You said you had an idea for his present? Is it something you need my help with?”

“Not really,” I hedge. “To be honest, I’m not sure if it’s the right choice. It might be overkill.”

Silence.

Sigh.

“You want to get him a horse, don’t you?”

I drop my phone. By the time I manage to fumble it back to my ear, Sarah’s saying my name over and over. “I’m here,” I say. “How the hell did you know that?”

I can almost hear her shrug. “I know you, and I’ve gotten to know Seb pretty well. He’s mostly a simple person—not like you with your addiction to fancy shirts.” I make a noise of protest, but she’s still talking. “The only thing he really wants is his own stables, which even you would probably balk at. A horse, though… that’s kind of achievable.”

“You don’t think it’s too much?”

Sarah pauses. “I get the feeling we’re talking about different things,” she says cautiously. “I mean, you’re not exactly known for being stingy with gifts, Jack, and Seb’s not a junior member of staff. He runs the riding school and agistment, looks after the property, handles all your personal financial matters that are too insignificant for the accountant. He fits within the boundaries of your generous gift recipient guidelines.”

“Right.” She’s right. That’s all true.

“Oooohhhhhh,” she says, and I close my eyes. As wonderful as it is to have a close relationship with my assistant, it also means she knows me too well. “I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming. I should have known—he’s just your type and everything.”

“I don’t have a type,” I snap, because I try really hard not to be attracted to people purely on a physical basis. That’s shallow. People are more than their looks.

“Of course you do,” she dismisses. “Hardworking, loyal, good sense of humor, able to relate to others… that’s a description of every single boyfriend you’ve had in the past decade.”

Oh. Well, yeah. In that case, I have a type.

“It doesn’t hurt that he’s nice to look at too,” she teases, and heat flushes through me. I’m usually pretty good at ignoring morning wood until it goes away; picturing Seb seems to give my body a free pass to express its approval.

“You’re missing the point,” I insist, exerting firm control over my base instincts and ignoring everything else. “He works for me. And… I don’t want anyone to think… Or for him to think…”

“Yeah,” Sarah says, her tone softening. “The thing is, I don’t think even you were planning to spend twenty grand or something, right? Get him a decent horse but keep it modest. And I mean, the only person who has to know you bought it for him is him, yeah?”

I think it over. That makes sense.

“He’s been riding here since he was a kid,” I muse. “There’s probably a horse in the stables he already prefers.”

“There you go. That would make it easier. Everyone would just think he’d finally pulled together the cash for his favorite.” She hesitates, then asks softly, “Are you going to make a move?”

I flop back against my pillows. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I’ll see how the rest of the weekend goes, I guess. I mean, I want to, and if he didn’t work for me, I would already have asked him out, but I don’t want to make things weird. So I guess I’ll get to know him better and make a decision later. Friends first. Fuck, I’m just babbling now.”

“You are,” she agrees. “Get off the phone and pull yourself together.”

Grumbling, I say goodbye and get out of bed.

ChapterSix

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