Page 4 of The Billionaire's Baby Betrayal

He watched from his corner table as the woman he had encountered in the parking lot entered the pavilion and made her way to the banquet tables. His eyes followed her as she poured herself a coffee and began filling a plate.

He felt a shock when she turned to find a table and met his eyes. It seemed like an eternity of staring into her extraordinary blue eyes passed before he remembered to be courteous and acknowledge their slight acquaintance with a nod. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw a blush stain her cheeks. And then, suddenly, his view of her was blocked by none other than Felix Bankes.

He couldn’t see Bankes’ face, but from the expression on the woman’s face as she took a seat at a table, his appearance was annoying to her. Bankes wasn’t giving up as he took the chair across from her. Andrés saw she said something to Bankes and then turned her focus to peeling an egg. He could see Bankes’ spine stiffen before he left his seat and walked away, and he gathered it wasn’t a pleasant conversation. He turned away to see Emmett walking in his direction with a plate of pastries.

“I know these aren’t the bizcochos from home, but I thought you might like one with your espresso,” said Emmett.

Andrés smiled. “As it happens, I would love one. Please sit. Is that one of your extra-special coffee concoctions in your cup?”

“Yes, sir, it is.” Emmett chuckled as he sat. “The coffee over here is too weak for me, and if I add a shot of that bitter stuff you like, it’s just right.”

Emmett Shepherd was one of the best trainers to come out of Kentucky, and Andrés had been determined to hire him when he started the Estancia Luis Grande. Emmett’s wife had passed away not long before Andrés made him an offer, and they had no children, and Emmett had said that he had no reason not to accept the job.

Emmett had quickly adapted to Uruguay and its people and culture. He had also become a good and loyal employee and was well-respected by the other staff.

“Emmett, are you familiar with the staff at Bankes Farms?” asked Andrés.

“I’ve been able to put names with faces over the years. Why do you ask?” answered Emmett, taking a bite of pastry.

“Behind you and to your right is a woman with red hair in a ponytail. I’ve seen her with Felix Bankes and wondered if she’s part of his staff.”

Emmett nonchalantly shifted in his chair to see the woman. “She’s been his head trainer for a few years now. I’ve spoken with her briefly and found her pleasant and knowledgeable. Bankes has had several winners trained by her, and I’ve heard she has a special knack with the horses.”

“What’s her name?”

“We were never formally introduced, but I’ve heard her called Marsh.” He eyed his employer carefully. “Are you considering her for my job?”

Andrés stood and took the last sip from his cup. “I hadn’t been thinking in that direction, but now that I know her ties with Bankes, it might be worth considering. I had a few words with her in the parking lot, and he rudely interrupted.”

“Would you like me to start up a conversation with her and find out how she feels about her current position?”

“Not just yet, Emmett, but thank you. I have a few business calls to return, and I’ll see you later at the stables.”

“You know that’s where I’ll be.”

Andrés left the pavilion and entered the racetrack business office to find out if there was a conference room he could use and was shown to a small furnished office. He hoped the strength of the mobile network connection was enough to make his call.

“Office. Rosamund, speaking.”

“Buenos días, Rosamund. Isn’t it somewhat early for you to be at the stables?”

“Buenos días, Andrés. You know I always try to be available during the morning hours wherever you are racing. Is all well?”

“Sí, sí. I have something I’d like for you to do for me. Will you please research the current staff at Bankes Farms and email a list of names and backgrounds? I’d like to have the information by the end of today.”

“Of course, I can do that for you. And good luck on the race today.”

“Gracias, Rosamund. Adiós.”

“Adiós.”

Andrés sat in the office for a time after the phone call. If the information Rosamund gathered confirmed what Emmett had told him, he might have found not only his new trainer but a way to get under Felix Bankes’ thin skin, too.

He pushed aside the thought that having Ms. Marsh around to admire wouldn’t be so bad either.

* * *

Andrés was receiving congratulatory pats on the back from the group of investors and clients he had invited to join him in his box. Someone had poured champagne and slipped a glass into his hand. While he had said every prayer and held every hope that Señor Alberto Luis would win the race, Andrés was reeling with excitement and pride for the beautiful chestnut English thoroughbred who gave his all in winning the race. The skill and experience of the jockey and, without a doubt, Emmett’s training provided a distinct advantage as well. Andrés watched as the groom led Señor Alberto to the winner’s circle, and he was also anxious to get down there.

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