Page 9 of Chasing the Wild
I wrap my arms around myself. “Then why are you here, Kayce?” Why stay if he hates it so much? I want to kick him in the balls for being such a spoiled bitch about it. What I would give to land a job in a place as incredible as this…
“Because I fucked up, princess. I didn’t get a sponsor this season. While I figure out my next move, Dad is cool with me staying here for the rest of summer. If I’m really desperate for money, I figure I’ll stick around and work the winter for him, too.”
“Sounds awesome. Good for you.”
He snorts.
“What isn’t so awesome is how he rides my ass all the time, trying to make up for being a shitty father when I was a kid. We've never gotten along. So it’s real fucking peachy, let me tell you.”
Now it makes sense why I didn’t hear him talk about his dad while we were together. Two and two are now adding up as to why the albums in the back seat of my car don’t have a single photo featuring him and his father.
“Well, you could stay with your mom?” I don’t even know why I’m getting into this with him. Kayce Wilder is not my problem. Not my circus to tangle with anymore.
Those blue eyes are hazed with sadness when they land on me.
“Nah. I’m not going back there.” He says it with such finality that I know things really can’t be good if he’d tolerate being here rather than stay with his own mom.
That right there is a feeling I know intimately well.
Swigging back his beer, he kicks his long legs out. My ex looks like he’s settling in for the afternoon, and I don’t have time for this self-indulgent pity party he’s got going on.
I spin on my heel and set off for the steps, calling over my shoulder as I go.
“Put the beer down, Kayce. I need you to come grab some boxes.”
I’m also about done with his shit… and this whole confusing,gorgeous-father-I’m-still-flustered-oversituation. I need to get moving, and when I haul-ass out of here in a cloud of dust, I’ll never have to see either of the Wilder men, ever again.
Chapter 4
FIVE MONTHS LATER
“Your resume looks great, Layla. It would be a pleasure to have you join us at Shipton Stables for the rest of the winter.”
I close my eyes and mouth a silentthank youtoward the roof of my car while clutching the phone against my ear.
“Are you sure starting at this time of year isn’t a problem for you? Many people your age are still on holiday this side of the new year, and we really can’t hold the position if there are any delays. We need to fill it urgently.” The lady on the other end of the phone is firm, but kind.
I get it, I really do.
They have a business to run, and finding apprentice veterinary students to work the winter season must get frustrating at the best of times, with part-time contracts starting and ending every few months. Not to mention, we’ve just emerged from the usual fuckery of Christmas and New Year and all the crap that comes with people picking up casual shifts over the holiday season. There are plenty of assholes out there who love to call in sick or never show up for their rostered hours—I know all about having to cover late notice forthosekinds of dickheads.
She’s very, very politely asking me not to fuck her around.
“No, I’m absolutely sure. You can count on me to be there.” Nothing says eager and broke like already being packed before I even got confirmation this job would accept me. The few belongings I’ve been carting around since last summer are neatly crammed in the trunk of my car, ready to roll out of this shitty little motel parking lot.
Basically, I was waiting on this call. What she doesn’t need to know is that the job I had been promised fell through right before Christmas, leaving me well and truly in the lurch over the holidays.
I’ve had to chew into my meager savings just to scrape through the past few weeks until I could secure a job—any vet placement would do—on extremely late notice and at the height of the festive season, no less. So when Shipton Stables put out an urgent ‘help-wanted’ request online, I couldn’t care less about the three hour drive to get there. I just needed them to give me the green light that they’d be happy to take me on.
“Great. Well, in that case, we’ll have paperwork ready for you to fill out when you arrive, and the first shift we’ll roster you for starts at eight a.m. the day after tomorrow.”
We chat a little more, going over some basics about my orientation before hanging up. Tucking my phone against my chest, I flop back in the driver’s seat with relief.
Thank you Shipton Stables and the kind receptionist lady whose name I have already forgotten.
I. Have. A. Job.
While I’ve been sitting out here taking the call, icy crystals have already started to form on my windshield. I quickly turn the ignition and wait for the warmth to start pouring in.Wiggling my fingers in front of the air vent, the chill bites more than a little painfully.
