Page 115 of My Dark Horse Prince

But then I think about my mother’s face. “It’s me,” I say.

“You heard he signed?”

“I did.”

“I had to promote him to get him to do it, but don’t worry. Once it’s final, I’ll be sure to fire him.”

“Don’t do that,” I say. “Keep on paying him. My mom should get a cut of whatever he makes for the next two years, according to the paperwork.”

“You’re tougher than I realized,” Danils says. “I like that.”

“I’ll do it,” I say. “One date.”

His exhalation into the phone makes me wonder what he’s doing. Dancing? Pumping his fist in the air? Laughing?

“Just one time, though, and it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Sure,” he says. “Just one date.”

“I’ll text you details.” I hang up.

When I reach the arena, Charlemagne’s already waiting. I can tell he’s hoping for some kind of reaction, and that makes me want to deny him, for some reason, but I can’t help it.

I’m mad at him for trying to manipulate me, but I’m too excited about the car to be truly angry. “It’s beautiful.” I rub his face, and he leans into my hand.

“He wanted to get you a red one,” Kristiana says. “But I told him blue was more your speed.”

“Wait,” I say. “You talked to him about it? How long ago did he order it?” I figured it was bought yesterday, on a whim, after he saw me in Danils’s car.

“American imports take forever, even when you’re willing to pay a hefty premium. He ordered it, what? A month ago?” She looks at him for confirmation.

Regret steals its way through me. I reacted badly, thinking this was some kind of petty power play. But it wasn’t. He wasn’t reacting to Danils. He was just being thoughtful. And now I feel like the lousy one, for calling Danils and agreeing to go on a date. It’s not like I owe Grigoriy anything, but it’ll upset him.

Actually, that’s reason enough for me to go.

I’m not my mother. I won’t tiptoe around a guy, worried something I do will hurt his feelings. His feelings are his to manage, not mine. We aren’t dating, we aren’t engaged, and we definitely aren’t married. If I want to go on a date with an ex to thank him for his help with a terrible situation, I’m more than entitled to do it.

Even so, I don’t mention it during our workout for the day, not during the flat, and not during the jump courses, which we’ve thankfully improved at, quite a lot.

“You only knocked two poles the entire workout,” Kris says. “Nice work.”

I peel off my riding gloves and tuck them in my pocket, then I reach down and pat Grigoriy’s sweaty neck.

A sudden gust of wind flies by and places the pole we knocked down on our last run back in the cups.

“Whoa,” Kristiana says. “I just thought of something.”

“What?”

“You guys could totally cheat,” she says.

“What?”

“If you could figure out some way of touching him, he could make sure no poles fall. . . at all. Isn’t that kind of his thing?”

Charlemagne tosses his head and neighs, clearly on board.

“But we’d be cheating.” I shake my head. “That’s not what I wanted. I want to win because I’m an excellent rider on an amazing horse.”

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