Page 10 of Dragon Slayer

She’d rolled over, slammed her eyes shut…and not slept a wink.

Now here she was, dehydrated, exhausted, and miserable, about to faint in the middle of a lesson she wasteaching; she wasn’t evenriding.

She really did feel terrible.

She downed the rest of the Gatorade and, leaning against the fence for support, managed to finish Monica’s lesson. Her student kept shooting her concerned glances, and Mia broke one of her own rules: rather than walk through her usual post-lesson debrief while Monica cooled down, she patted Gephardt’s neck and said a simple, “Good job.”

The walk back to the barn felt like a hike, though the ground was level. She stopped once she was in the shade, hand braced on a stall front, breathing through her mouth while she fought the phantom weight on her chest.

“Mia.” The sharp clip of bootheels rebounded off the stall fronts like gunshots.

Mia lifted her head, already wincing, as her boss, Donna, bore down on her, long, ballerina legs carrying her across the bricks so fast it made Mia’s head spin.

“Javi said you were feeling poorly,” Donna said, blunt as usual. “What’s wrong? Do I need to send you home?”

“No,” Mia said, aiming for firm, falling somewhere a little south of that. “Just a little overheated. I’m fine.” She let go of the blanket bar she was holding and stood up straight to prove her point. She wobbled a little.

Donna’s eyes narrowed; her ponytail was so tight that the movement shifted her entire hairline forward a fraction. “You’re keeping up with your regular doctor’s appointments?”

“Yes,” Mia said, too fast, too sharp.

Donna’s eyes narrowed further. “Come down to my office. We need to have a talk.”

Shit.

Mia followed her, wishing her own hips and legs were so miraculously lean, dreading the conversation about to unfold.

Four years ago, Mia had emailed her résumé, five recommendation letters, and a video compilation that included the most awkward, painful interview of her life, to the one and only Donna Masters, already knowing she didn’t have a prayer of landing the working student job of her dreams. She’d fallen out of her chair when Donna herself called to offer her the job and ask how fast she could get her horse and all her worldly possessions to Denver.

The past four years had been a whirlwind of riding, teaching, schooling, and learning more than she’d ever imagined. A two-time Olympian, daughter of two trainers, and a passionate horsewoman, Donna expected nothing less than perfection from the people in her employ. She was a fair boss – but an exacting one. The last thing Mia wanted was to show the kind of weakness that she had so far today.

Donna led them into her office, a small square room with a view of the front pasture, its walls covered in framed photos, commemorative plaques, and ribbons. It was better organized than Mia’s office, more of a showpiece, with elegant leather couches and an elaborate antique French desk; a place where Donna could entertain high-dollar clients. There was a mini fridge in one corner, above it a massive framed poster of Donna at her last Olympics, astride the now-retired Key Largo.

“Sit down.” Donna waved at one of the couches as she dropped down behind her desk and shifted a stack of printouts over. “Have some water if you haven’t already.”

Gatorade still sloshing in her empty stomach, Mia eased down onto the couch. “I’m fine.”

“Where is that – ah, remind me to call Adrianna after this. We need to talk about the next steps in Lancelot’s training schedule.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe Donna wanted to talk horses, and–

Donna straightened the last bit of paperwork and lifted her head, gaze laser-focused on Mia’s face, sculpted brows somehow judgmental. “You don’t look well.”

Damn.

“I didn’t get much sleep last night.” Not a lie. “And I wasn’t keeping up with my water intake.”

Donna stared at her. “Mia, one of the things we agreed on when you started here was that you would look after your health. I might be a hard bitch, but I’m not heartless – if you’re having problems–”

“I’m not,” Mia said, too firmly.

Donna sighed delicately through her nostrils. “You can talk to me, you know. If something’s wrong.”

But Mia couldn’t. What would she say:I’ve been seeing this beautiful man who claims to be a vampire every night, and I’m afraid he’s a brain tumor-induced hallucination. I’m too scared to go to the doctor and get a scan, because another tumor means more treatment, more surgery. Another tumor means I can’t keep working for you.

She took a deep breath and said, “Donna, I appreciate the concern, but I swear I’m okay. If something changes, I’ll tell you. But I need to drink some water and get to my next lesson.”

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