MILLIONAIRE'S SHOT: Second Chance Romance Read Free Page A

can see him at halftime. He was supposed to be the only one riding that mare.” To Gramps, a man’s handshake was as good as a written contract. He honored his word and expected others to do the same. “If you don’t want to drive me,” he added, his voice hardening, “I’ll walk. But I have to check on Ginger. She’s upset. And I need to find out why Santiago switched riders.”
    “No problem. I’ll drive you.” She pulled in a resolute breath, rose and folded the blanket. His urgency was understandable. A trainer’s livelihood revolved around his reputation, and her reluctance was mostly based on her desire to avoid Alex.
    Right now, it was more important that she help Gramps stop fretting. He wouldn’t relax until he worked out another game date with Santiago. Besides, she didn’t care about Alex. After almost a decade, she was well over that pain—and totally happy with her life.
    And a part of her almost believed it.

 
     
     
CHAPTER THREE
     
     
    The sign above the door warned: ‘Club Members Only.’ Their memberships had expired long ago but that didn’t stop Gramps. Besides, they didn’t intend to linger. They just had to cross the patio to reach the horse grounds on the other side.
    “Hello, Jake,” a man in a white seersucker suit called. “Hi, Cassie. Good to see you both.”
    The man looked vaguely familiar and Cassie acknowledged his greeting with a polite wave. But her grandfather didn’t stop. He plowed through the spectators, intent on reaching the picket area on the other side. When she’d ridden here the clubhouse had been open to the public, in an attempt to attract wider interest and prove that polo wasn’t reserved for the wealthy. She’d managed to participate on a tight budget but that was only possible because Gramps had been able to retrain affordable horses.
    Most well-trained polo ponies cost at least forty thousand, and a competitive rider needed a minimum of four horses, along with a support system that included transportation and capable grooms. Gramps had always found her horses off the track, picking up Thoroughbreds who either weren’t fast enough or simply didn’t want to race. Often they’d been as cheap as five hundred dollars.
    “Hello, Cassie.” A woman’s long fingers wrapped around her arm. “What are you doing here? Thought you’d moved to sunny California?”
    Cassie nodded, remembering playing polo against the brunette, a divorcee with two sons. But the woman’s name drew a blank. “I’m just home for a couple weeks,” Cassie murmured. “It’s good to see everyone.”
    “I’m married again.” The woman’s voice contained a note of triumph. “To Jonathon Stiles. You must remember him. He’s President of the Board.”
    “That’s great. Congratulations.”
    “What about you? Husband? Children?”
    “No,” Cassie said, her voice amazingly level. “Keeping busy with horses.”
    “Indeed. Well you look exactly the same as when you were a groom here.” The woman’s eyes swept over Cassie’s jeans and now she sounded almost spiteful. “Lots of changes here. The Club made a ton of improvements after you left.”
    “Yes, it looks a lot bigger.” Cassie peered over the woman’s shoulder, keeping an eye on her grandfather as he maneuvered around the tablecloths. He didn’t look sideways at the seated patrons and strode with a single-minded purpose. She didn’t want him talking to Santiago without her. Gramps was often too blunt, especially when it involved his animals.
    “The clubhouse isn’t just bigger,” the woman said. “The horses and players are much more talented…you know, compared to when you used to play.”
    Yes, the brunette’s smile was definitely spiteful. Cassie still couldn’t recall the woman’s name—Jocelyn maybe—and she didn’t want to waste any more time listening to her blather. Gramps was almost out of sight.
    “Luckily the days of picking up cheap Thoroughbreds from the track are gone,” the