Horses for Courses

The roar of the crowd was deafening, a swell of sound erupting around her, encompassing her, lifting her up... At the same time it was distant, only a small buzz in the back of her brain against the sound of hooves on turf, the jangle of metal, the slapp of the leathers. And then a gasp, the crash of poles, and the scream of pain that wouldn't stop--

Kate sat bolt upright, heart pounding, listening to the bleat of the phone on the bedside table. After a few seconds she scooped it up, pressing one hand to her forehead as she held the handset to her ear. "Yeah?"

"This is your six a.m. wakeup call, ma'am, as you requested."

"Oh. Right. Thanks."

She was at the track by seven thirty, just in time for the first morning workouts to begin. Sitting huddled in the stands with her coffee cup and stopwatch she watched as the young horses danced onto the track, tossing their heads and skittering sideways, almost floating in their adolescent high spirits. She was so intent on their movements - was Rigo favoring his left fore a little? Was that a misstep on Scarlet's part or just nerves? - that she didn't realise she had company until she felt the seat next to her give a little.

"How're they doing?" Susie asked, her tone light in spite of the late night Kate knew she'd had over at the country club.

"Oh, just goofing around... kids, you know. I've asked for a half-mile breeze today, so that should be interesting."

"Let me know how they get on then. Look, I should run, John wants me up for breakfast, but before I do he asked me to talk to you again about his idea..."

Kate's normally-serious expression grew even grimmer. "Suze, listen, it's not that I don't understand the reason behind it, but you have to realise how abhorrent the whole thing is to me."

"I do, you know I do," Susie said, reaching to rest her hand on Kate's knee. "But John... he says that with Lotus almost ready to race, he doesn't want anything tarring her reputation. He says we need some good publicity."

"You'll get plenty of good publicity once she starts wiping up the competition. I really don't see why I have to enter into this at all - just let my work speak for me."

"Kate... please? For me? I swear it won't be for more than a week or so - the magazine are being really cooperative and positive-sounding, John said, not exploitative at all..."

The trainer gave a heavy sigh, turning slightly towards the other woman. "Sure," she said, trying not to sound completely pissed off and resigned to her fate. "You gave me the chance that got me back in the game - I guess I owe you."

Susie beamed, leaning in quickly to press a brief kiss to Kate's cheek. "Thank you so much," she said. "I really appreciate it - I know we shouldn't have to do this, but John thinks it will really help."

"Mm. I guess we'll see," Kate said, covering the other woman's hand with her own and giving it a squeeze. "So what should I expect - some intern from New York who's going to follow me around, human-interest style?"

"Actually, the magazine said they wanted to get someone in specially, so I'm not sure, but I think you'll get someone a bit more seasoned than that. Which, I mean, that's hopefully a good thing, right? They won't be trying to make their name off you or anything..."

"Yeah, hopefully." Kate's attention was caught by movement on the track and she turned away quickly, raising her stopwatch. "They're starting. I really gotta watch this. I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Absolutely. Let me know how it goes - we'll meet after lunch?"

Kate was already leaning forward, rapt, her eyes on the pack of horses currently flying round the track. "Mmhmm... sure."

Chuckling, Susie took her leave. She knew better than to try to vie for Kate's attention when it came to horses.

"So the thing is, racehorses are kinda like... I dunno, pears or whatever. Or kiwi fruit. No matter how good they look, only like one in every dozen you buy is actually really good. It's a massive investment and a huge gamble. You cut back on that investment by pushing them out to race as soon as they're fit for it - two and a half, three years old."

Andy took out her cigarette carton, looking around the table for an ashtray. All she found was a discreet little 'Thank you for not smoking' sign, nestled in what she considered a rather passive aggressive fashion between the salt and pepper shakers and the menu stand.

"We're fuckin' outside," she muttered, but put the carton away, instead turning her attention to the damp label on her condensation-covered beer bottle, short fingernails picking idly at one corner.

"But you race a horse that young, they fuck up their joints, they have a few years in them, and then they're done, old before their time, no good for anything any more.

"Kathryn Roundtree was different because she trained horses for five, even six years before they were allowed on a racetrack. Every one a winner - expensive, mind, double the cost to get them there, but some certainly considered it a worthy investment. She's not the only trainer who works that way, but she turned it into an art."

Andy smirked a little, glancing across at the nervy young man who was furiously typing everything she said onto his sleek little netbook. "So. That pretty much taps me out. That's everything I know about horse training. I understand you were assigned to come along as my intern on this one because horse racing's an interest of yours?"

"Well, uh, gambling of all sorts, actually," he said, bobbing his head in agreement, "but racing, yeah, that's a big part of it. Both from the spectator's side, but also the owner's, like you said. I've seen the figures and it's a rare stable that turns a profit year on year - that's why all those big international conglomerates started forming, edging out the small-time names. It's pretty interesting stuff."

"Sounds it," Andy said, in a tone that suggested she found it anything but. "So John Prince is really going out on a limb, here, then, taking on not only a trainer who will insist his horses spend five years training before they're allowed to compete, but a trainer that was involved in a high-profile doping scandal. The mere fact she's able to work again is a cause for raised eyebrows."

"You think she's up to her old tricks again?" the intern - Dylan - said, looking somewhat shocked (and titillated). "That's pretty risky business..."

"Now be careful what you say, kid - remember that those allegations were never actually proven. And... no, I wouldn't have thought so. But that stain isn't gone. There's a lot riding on that horse. So to speak."

"Right, so it's... Prince's Blue Lotus, yeah?" he asked, glancing at his notes. "Coming five years old, bloodlines trace back to Native Dancer... and she's really never raced before?"

"Not once. But the scuttlebutt is her track times are extraordinary."

"I guess they'd have to be, for this story to be worth covering." He glanced up and grimaced belatedly. "Sorry, I just mean... do you really think there's a story here?"

"Honestly?" Andy leaned back in her seat, reaching for her cigarettes again automatically before cursing and going back to her beer label. "I think this is a piece of fluff. But I'm being paid a fortune to write it - the reporter who brought Roundtree down, blew the Walker affair open and shook the racing world to its core returns for a retrospective on the eve of the unveiling of Blue Lotus... it should basically write itself. There doesn't have to be a story. In honesty I hope there isn't - I fuckin' hate LA."

"At least it's sunny?" Dylan hazarded with a hopeful smile.

"Don't start with me, kid. You want to go find somewhere comfy with free wi-fi and do some research on the Princes? I need to go set up a meeting with her Majesty Ms Roundtree."

"Sure, no problem. You've got my cell number - just text me if you need anything."

As Dylan took his leave, Andy sat forward again, slouching a little as she pulled out her phone, staring at the brand new number she'd been given that morning along with the confirmation that the story was a 'go'. It wouldn't be Roundtree's, presumably, but that of a secretary. Indeed, she'd never actually spoken to Kate Roundtree, despite their fairly extensive dealings at one time; nor had they met face to face. This should be interesting.

"OhGod, OhGod, OhKate... ohGod..." The slim blonde woman trembled, whimpered, and clung to Kate in her version of an explosive orgasm, long nails pressing through the trainer's thin plaid shirt to leave indentations along her shoulders and back. Kate supported her for a few moments, then drew back her hand, causing the socialite to shiver and press closer, her lips seeking the warm skin of her throat.

Not every after-lunch meeting with Susanna Prince ended this way - sometimes they were all business, discussing lap times and sponsorship deals and feed prices as the eager young woman lapped up new pieces of information about the horse-racing industry. Nowadays it was only when Susanna felt ignored or taken advantage of by her high-powered husband that she turned to Kate for 'comfort', and the trainer was far too shrewd to turn her away despite the dangerous line they trod. She knew what side her bread was buttered on, and Susanna was the one who held the knife.

She was just leaning in to give the other woman a perfunctory kiss when a knock came at the locked office door. "Uh, yeah?" she asked, straightening up and clearing her throat. "What is it?"

"There's a call for you," came the reply from Jamie, the office-slash-barn manager who knew almost every detail of the sordid affair; luckily she was just as dedicated to keeping the secret as Kate. "That reporter's trying to arrange a meeting."

"Oh, damn, right... just tell her to come by tomorrow morning? I'll find some time somewhere."

"Got it. Oh, and John's on his way down from the club; he called ahead to ask for Lotus to be saddled up - apparently he's got Kevin Masters with him."

Kate bit back a litany of annoyance; this was far from the first time John Prince had swanned in, interrupting her training schedule to suit his whims. "Waitaminute... Masters? God, he's that hack from Santa Anita, isn't he? He's not planning on letting him ride?"

"Didn't ask. But he said to saddle her up."

"Yeah, all right." As Kate stepped back to straighten her shirt she considered the balance of things - she usually didn't get much action during these encounters, and even without Jamie's interruption today probably wouldn't have been any different. Susanna herself had even professed several times that she wasn't gay, which perhaps was true, or perhaps was just a way for her to get out of reciprocating sex; either way, Kate rarely got off nowadays, seeing as any time she actually tried to date anybody Susanna suddenly grew possessive, insisting that she keep her time free for 'Prince family business'.

Still, when would you find the time, really? she told herself grimly, mentally tamping down the instinctive responses coursing through her body from their encounter. And besides, hadn't she put herself in this situation? She had seen her 'in' with Susannah Prince, and had taken it in full knowledge of the ongoing risk and frustration it might entail. It was worth it to be able to work again.

Speaking of which... "I've gotta go get Lotus ready - you going to come watch?" she asked, keeping her voice light, having long-since perfected the art of dancing around John's undeniable presence in everything.

"Aw, I'd love to but I think I'm going to go shower and change," Susie said with a rather careful smile. "I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, of course."

By the time Kate made it to the stables, Lotus was saddled and ready, and John Prince had arrived, the diminutive man with him presumably Kevin Masters, who Kate only vaguely recognised.

"John, hi," she greeted him, shoving her hands in her pockets to forestall any hand-shaking. "I see you've brought a guest today."

"Mm, well, Kevin's in town and we were having lunch, and I thought, well, why not? We haven't settled on anyone for Lotus yet."

"I thought we were in talks with Brian O'Shea - he handled her beautifully when he was out last week."

"Oh, yeah, the Irish guy... well, no harm in Kevin taking her for a turn too, huh?" John said with one of his beaming smiles.

"Well, you know, I really prefer to keep to the scheduled workouts whenever possible and this is a quiet day for her..."

John's brow twitched a little, though his smile didn't shift. "Oh, come on, she won't mind a quick go round, will she?"

"A slow go round, maybe," Kate allowed, pulling her hands out of her pockets and making her way over to the Thoroughbred, who was standing quietly while they had their discussion. A tall, rangy mare, her steel-grey coat just beginning to lighten into snowflake-like dapples, Lotus was nothing too special to look at - standing still, at least. Out on the track was a different story, one that spoke of centuries of careful breeding and a love of the pure abandon of running. "No less than a minute thirty for the mile."

Kevin smirked a little. Kate wanted to slap him. "I'll do my best."

Masters' best was nowhere near good enough - Kate stood by the gate, scowling, as he took the mare through her paces out on the track. He wasn't abominable, but he possessed none of the nuance or sensitivity that she liked to see in the hands guiding her horses around the track. "No, no," she remarked as Lotus tossed her head rounding the short stretch, "you idiot, can't you see she hates that? Fuck's sake..."

John, of course, had no idea, approaching and giving Masters a hearty clap as the slight man dismounted and passed the reins to the stablehand. "What do you think?" he asked. Masters' eyes flickered past Kate's - he wasn't so blind to his own ability, apparently, that he didn't know when he was out of his depth. He knew Lotus wasn't for him.

"Oh... not bad..." he said cagily.

With a snort Kate turned away, bending to run her hands over the horse's legs, then straightening to stroke her neck firmly. "Give her a bath," she instructed the groom, Lori, "and make sure she's walked for at least half an hour. We'll have to rejig her schedule this week - I'll come by later to discuss it with you."

Lori nodded, glad to be able to escape what was becoming a decidedly charged atmosphere.

Turning back to the two men, Kate folded her arms over her chest. "You were too quick," she told the jockey then. "I said a minute thirty, but I clocked you at one twenty seven."

Kevin just smirked. "Guess I have the need for speed," he said with a wink.

Kate managed an icy smile. "Well. I'm sure you both have much more important things to be doing, now."

John Prince's look was a little warning, but he had rearranged his face into a serene smile when he turned to look at Masters. "Come up to the house for a drink?"

"Love to."

_Good riddance._ Kate watched them go with a mixture of relief and trepidation - she could tell this wasn't over yet. _But I won't go down without a fight._

Andy wasn't a massive fan of interviews at the best of times. Interviews with people she'd previously exposed for illegal practices... well, she'd never done it before today, but she felt even less positive about that prospect. And the weather? Well, that was just the icing on the cake.

The Southern California sun was shining intensely even at ten a.m.; the temperature had to be upwards of eighty degrees. Andy much preferred the cool dampness of New England, but here she was, and she hoped she'd be away before her pale skin started to suffer for it.

She made her way through the stableyard slightly randomly - the woman she had spoken to had given her directions to the correct 'block' but she hadn't written them down and now she was somewhat turned around. Everywhere she looked were signs of industry, people shovelling out stalls, horses being led to and fro, an incomprehensible babble of equine terminology being thrown around like another language. Andy waited until she spotted someone who looked vaguely idle and approached, narrowly missing a pile of dung in the middle of the aisle. Lovely.

"Excuse me, you couldn't happen to direct me to the Prince stables, could you?" she asked the young man, who straightened up slightly as she spoke to him.

"Yeah, uh, it's just down that way and a couple of rows along - the big barn, you can't miss it."

The 'big barn' in question certainly did stand out; it was easily twice the size of the stables around it and obviously built specially. It too was a hive of activity, with people dressed in smart polo shirts moving efficiently all about the place and taking little notice of her, which raised her hackles for a moment. Don't they know to expect me?. Eventually she made her way to what looked to be a small office set in place of several of the stalls - indeed, the plaque on the door read 'Prince Stables Office' - and knocked firmly on it.

"C'mon in," came the cheerful response from within.

It wasn't Kate Roundtree behind the desk but a young woman with a light coffee complexion and a bright demeanour that radiated health in a way that would be obnoxious if she wasn't so instantly likeable. She got up from her desk and rounded it immediately, reaching her hand out toward Andy with a smile.

"You must be Ms Driver," she said. "I'm Jamie Smith, the Princes' Office and Stable Manager."

"Good to meet you. I'm sorry, am I early? I was expecting to meet with Kate Roundtree here..."

"Oh, no, you're not too early, but Kate's not here," the young woman said, shaking her head. "She doesn't come to the office until late afternoon, usually. But I can take you to her, if you like."

"Oh, right... well, sure, I mean, thanks, if that's okay."

"Sure, no problem." Jamie gave her a sunny smile and gestured for Andy to follow her. "C'mon, it's this way."

She led the reporter back out into the barn, confidently striding down the aisle and nodding to grooms and other workers as they passed. There actually weren't that many horses in the barn that Andy could see, which struck her as slightly odd - why build a big fancy barn if you weren't going to fill it up?

Eventually they turned and went through one of the large, arched doorways towards one of the smaller buildings arranged alongside the barn. "We call this the Spa," Jamie told her with a conspiratorial smile. "You'll see why."

If anyone had asked Andy if horses could swim, she would've had to think long and hard about it before replying a dubious maybe. But as she stepped into the 'Spa' she was immediately faced with evidence that horses indeed could and did swim, albeit in fancier digs than her own gym. A long ramp led down into a pristine-looking pool, which was currently being churned up by a large horse on a lead, held by a young man on one side of the pool. Currents of water coming from jets along the short end must've given it enough resistance to swim against, and it didn't seem to be perturbed by this strange exercise in the slightest.

"...okay, good, just a few more minutes and we can call it a day," came the instructions in a woman's voice - the accent unmistakeably Bostonian. Andy looked up to see a face that was surprisingly familiar for someone she had never met: Kate Roundtree, in the flesh, coming towards her.

"Hey, Kate, here's that reporter the Princes arranged," Jamie told her, smiling as she made introductions. "I guess I'll leave you two to it - let me know if you need anything."

Reaching out a hand, Andy shot Kate what she hoped was a friendly-and-easy-going-smile. "Hi, Ms Roundtree. We've never actually met, I don't think. I'm-"

"Andrea Fuckin' Driver. You have got to be kidding me." Kate pulled back the hand she had been extending, her expression darkening. "Is this some kind of sick joke?"

Andy tried to keep her smile in place, though it did falter a little. "The magazine felt it would lend some interest to the story if I wrote it. You didn't know?"

"Do you think I would've agreed to it if I had?" The other woman shook her head, taking a step back from Andy. "Honestly, I hope you've got other stuff planned while you're here because there's no way I'm doing this."

"Oh, come on, Kate-"

"No. Way.. I know I'm being rude here, but I really don't care. Please get off the premises, Ms. Driver."

"No offence, but I'm pretty sure they're not your premises, nor is this story for your benefit... Look, I've obviously thrown you for a loop here, so I'm going to head off for today. But..." Andy made a face, trailed off. "I'm not digging for dirt here, K- Ms Roundtree. It might be easier if we just got it over with."

"I'm not talking to you," Kate said with an emphatic shake of her head, crossing her arms over her chest. "Tell your editor they better find another way to 'add interest' to the story because this way isn't happening."

"All right, all right, I'm going," Andy said, holding her hands up. But I suspect I'll be back.

Kate waited until she was sure that the reporter had gone, even calling through to the security gate to make sure her car had departed and then immediately stalked through the barn to the office, confronting the young woman behind the desk. "What the hell, Jamie! Andrea Driver shows up and you just let her swan through the stables? She should've been thrown off the premises as soon as she showed up!"

Jamie looked stricken. "I'm... I'm sorry, Kate, I didn't know, I-"

"You didn't ask? Jesus, of all the people to have on the story... they're a bunch of sick bastards."

"I..." Comprehension seemed to dawn. "Oh, Jesus, Kate, that's... shit, I just had it in my head that that was a guy, and I forgot the name, and when she showed up I didn't even twig, I'm so sorry. It was so long ago - I was just a kid, I didn't remember..."

Leaning back against the wall, Kate sighed and shook her head. "It's fine, it's not your fault. Sorry. I just... was not expecting that. At all."

"So... they just sent her? No one told you?"

"Apparently."

"Right. Um. Yeah. That's not cool."

"And I'm sure John knew," Kate said, her ire rising again. "I bet he thought it'd be hilarious... surprised he wasn't there to see the look on my face."

A flicker of new worry passed Jamie's face as Kate said this. "What are you going to tell him?"

"To fuck off."

"You'll do it. We need it. I don't care what's between you; I've been in touch with the magazine and if Driver isn't writing, they aren't buying. And if they aren't buying, we have a problem."

Kate paced across the room, biting her lip to keep from blurting out something that might get her fired. "This is cheap, and you know it. Do you really want to be part of a desperate grab for attention?" she tried finally, turning back to him.

"I want to have a stable that makes a name for itself for something other than former scandal, and that means putting a pin in it. This is how it happens. Come on, Kate, help me out here. How can I make this happen?"

"You're not putting a pin in it, you're pandering," Kate insisted. "You're just drawing attention to it. Do you think people will believe one way or another what some article says? Let the horses speak for themselves, that's all you need to do. You'll have your 'name' soon enough."

John Prince's face hardened. "I'm trying to help you out here. I've put a lot of money into this - any other trainer would have had Lotus on the track years ago. I reckon I could find someone else to see her there now if I needed to."

"Fuck, John, no, you can't do that," Kate said, sounding panicked. I need this, if you take it away from me now I'll have nothing. "Please."

"Well, you leave me with no other choice."

She grimaced. "Fine, okay, I'll do it. On one condition."

John immediately smiled, sitting back in his chair. "Name it."

"I want O'Shea riding in the Classic. Masters doesn't go anywhere near her."

The owner's smile tightened a little, but he nodded. "Done. But you cooperate with Driver. Make it a good one."

"Yeah. We'll see." 'Good' for you isn't going to be much fun for me.

Andy hadn't packed. She had only just arrived back at her hotel room, in point of fact, when her cell rang.

"Is this Andy Driver?" Even in clipped, cold tones, the voice was unmistakeable.

Flopping down onto the bed, Andy allowed herself a tiny smirk before rearranging her face into an expression that wouldn't betray her dry amusement. "Ms Roundtree. Yes, it's me."

"I'll do the interview."

Of course you will. "All right. When and where?"

"I have some time on Thursday evening. How long will it take?"

"Well, it's a retrospective. So, I mean, it'd be nice to be able to fill it out, talk a little about what you do now. I've got a pretty big wordcount and I'd like to focus away from dwelling on... past events and looking toward the future."

"So... an hour?"

"I was hoping for something a little more... in depth. A look around the stables, maybe see some of your training sessions. I won't get in the way, I swear - observational stuff is what I do now." I lost the taste for investigative work.

She heard the other woman give a heavy sigh. "Fine, whatever. Come back to the stables on Friday, you can shadow me then."

"So we can chat Thursday evening for an hour, and then a visit on Friday, great - I'll see you then. Dinner's on me - well, the magazine, obviously. The [Posh Hotel] okay? It's where I'm staying."

"No, I... yeah, sure. Fine."

"Great. See you Thursday - seven o' clock."

Thursday at seven came around far too quickly for Kate's taste - her usual days passed in a blur although the few hours before her meeting with Driver dragged on annoyingly. She had expected to be in a bad mood the whole time but as usual being around the horses and the people who cared for them cheered her up to no end, and so she found herself approaching the dinner meeting with a surprisingly philosophical frame of mind.

That is, of course, until she entered the hotel restaurant and saw her sitting there.

It was true to say that Andy Driver and Kate had never actually met, but Kate for one had certainly seen plenty of Andy. When the doping story had broken, the investigative reporter responsible for it had been on every specialist panel talking about it - there had even been one or two segments on national news (though the mainstream press had lost interest long before the racing world had). She'd quickly grown to hate the sight of the other woman, her distinctive pale skin with its smattering of freckles across her cheeks, those hazel eyes that should have been warm but somehow always seemed cool to her, her auburn hair shot through with little flecks of silver when she was only in her late twenties. She'd had it in a rather severe short back and sides, then, and with her slim frame would have looked like a freckled schoolboy were it not for the grey; it was longer now, falling around her face in soft layers as far as her jawline, and there was no sign of grey so presumably she now dyed it.

Just the sight of her was enough to set Kate's stomach roiling. So much for enjoying a free meal, then. She approached the table, hands shoved in her pockets, nodding as the other woman noticed her. "Driver."

"Ms Roundtree," Andy replied in her slightly husky tones, making to rise slightly from her seat but then noting Kate's hands in her pockets, and thinking better of a more formal greeting, just nodding and sitting back down, picking up her menu. "How was your trip in?"

"Fine." Kate took a seat, reaching immediately for her water glass and taking a long sip. "Listen, I have to apologise for the way I behaved on Tuesday. It was uncalled for."

The other woman shook her head, barely even glancing over from her menu. "No need. You were blindsided. I'd've done the same."

"Mm." Except you weren't blindsided. They approached you and asked, and you accepted. Which means that there's something you want to get out of this.

"What would you like to drink?" It was a moment before Kate realised the Andy was addressing her, both her and the waiter who'd just arrived at their table waiting for her answer.

"Oh, uh... white wine - the chenin blanc, please," she said, her flawless pronunciation somewhat at odds with her plain clothes and general demeanour.

Pursing her lips back at her menu for a moment, Andy nodded. "That'll work," she said, adding, "A bottle, please," to the waiter.

Kate raised an eyebrow, but then, who was she to judge if the reporter wanted most of a bottle of wine to get through the next hour? Kate needed to be clear-headed but the other woman could be as sloppy as she wanted. "So," she said when the waiter had departed. "Let's get this over with."

"You haven't even chosen your starter yet," Andy replied with a slight smile, meeting Kate's eyes momentarily. She did reach down into her bag, though, retrieving what appeared to be her phone and navigating through a few of its screens, presumably to activate a dictaphone app. "Still, you could tell me how things are going at the stables if you're desperate to talk."

"When is this going to be published?" Kate asked then with a frown.

"Right before Prince's Blue Lotus's debut, I would think."

"Hm. Well, things are going fine." There was a silence. Eventually Kate was unable to prevent herself from looking up to see Andy smiling across at her, looking almost amused.

"You're familiar with the 'interview' format?" she said. "You might want to give me a little more than that."

"For you to do what with, exactly?" Kate couldn't keep the sharpness out of her tone. "How am I supposed to trust you're not going to take whatever I say and use it against me?"

Driver's eyes narrowed a little - not in irritation but in thought, Kate realised. "I'm not out to get you, Kate."

"Excuse me if your word doesn't hold as much weight as you'd like with me."

"Well, I assume you're not doping your horses, so I don't really see how it is you think you're going to incriminate yourself."

"I wasn't doping my horses before!" Kate hissed, leaning forward a little to stare the other woman in the eyes. "But that didn't stop you from reporting that I was."

The other woman's expression flickered a little, almost a flinch. "We don't need to talk about that," she said. Then, "I reported on the evidence. If you still maintain that evidence was wrong, there's nothing I have to say about that. But that's not what I'm here to talk about now. If I wanted to revisit that investigation I could've done it from home."

Kate resisted the urge to grind her teeth. "I want you to retract what you said about me. Before. Otherwise this whole thing's a crock of bullshit."

"I can't do that. And I don't see what difference it makes. You found work again, you were never found guilty. I only ever presented the evidence. That evidence hasn't changed."

"That story nearly ruined my life!"

"And this story should help make it a lot easier."

Kate sat back, crossing her arms and fixing the other woman with a hard look. "You aren't even a sports writer. Anything I say about the stables won't make any sense to you." Andy seemed like she might be able to argue with this assertion, then simply shrugged.

"So explain it to me. Or don't, and I'll look stuff up. This isn't a sports article, really. It's a character study. A human interest piece."

Kate felt a dull pain in her jaw and realised she was grinding her teeth. Where's that wine? "Fine, whatever. So ask your questions."

With an infuriatingly gentle smile, Andy inclined her head. "How are things going at the stables?"

"Like I said, fine. Well, even."

"I m-..." Andy trailed off, her brow furrowing and her slightly upturned nose wrinkling a little in a way that on any other woman Kate might have found cute. "Y'know what, never mind. Let's just have a nice dinner."

"Excuse me?"

"You obviously don't want to talk," Andy said simply. "So let's just eat?"

"In silence?" Kate asked, raising her eyebrows dubiously.

"Well, I can't stay silent for more than about five minutes at a time, so no," Andy said. "But you can be as monosyllabic as you like. I'm not here to force you to talk to me. If this ends up being one massive prose piece musing on the beauty of the Prince Stables and observation on your horse handling, so be it. It'll just take a little longer to put together, that's all."

She had had a lot of expectations of Andy Driver, but the one thing she hadn't expected was that the other woman would be so... reasonable. Kate let out a sigh, shaking her head in a way that could've been viewed as either acquiescence or dismissal. "Fine, whatever. Do you know what you're ordering?"

"Mhm. Oh, and here's our wine, thank Christ. You ready?"

"Sure. Go ahead."

"I'll have the scallops to start, and then the chicken, thanks," Andy said to the young man who'd arrived at their table, who nodded as he poured their wine.

Kate blinked; that had been her order. Was she feeling ornery enough to change it on basic principle? "I'll have the same."

Andy said nothing as the waiter departed, but Kate could swear she was smirking slightly behind her wine glass as she took a small sip. She tried to ignore it - and the twist of annoyance inside - and instead leaned back, cocking her head to observe the other woman.

"So. Ruin any other careers recently?"

Andy put her glass down gently, pursing her lips for a moment as though savouring the flavour. "Not as far as I'm aware," she replied smoothly.

"Hm. Well, that must be a nice change."

"Well, 'Career wrecker' hasn't ever been in my job description, so it's not something I put a great deal of thought into one way or the other, especially."

"Oh, so it was just a nice extra perk, then?"

"Oh, absolutely," the other woman said, her voice still remarkably free of edge, "I have a bucket list to work through. I've yet to make anyone divorce, flee the country or commit suicide, but, y'know, I'm young yet."

"Well, it's good to have goals," Kate replied sarcastically, reaching for her wine.

"What are yours?"

"Oh, you know... not to crash and burn before my big break like the last two times." It came out more seriously than Kate intended, and she looked away for a moment, gathering herself. "That, and replace my piece-of-shit car with something a bit nicer."

Andy just nodded silently at this, delving no further - Kate knew that the other woman knew about her first career, and how badly it had ended, as it had been mentioned in those articles she'd long-since committed to memory back when she'd 'broken' the Walker affair, though it had been more of a passing footnote than anything else. 'Kathryn Roundtree, former Olympic showjumper turned trainer...'

"I was thinking a Porsche, maybe, something obnoxious and flashy. Fast."

"Can't get much hay in one of those."

"Just as well my job's not hay-delivery."

This seemed to put another thought in Andy's mind. "Do you have a horse of your own these days? D'you ride for enjoyment?"

Kate frowned. "No. I don't have time." In truth she hadn't ridden in over fifteen years, though lack of time was the least of the reasons why she avoided it.

The slow, contemplative nod Andy gave at this at once made Kate want to snap at her, but luckily their starters arrived just then, giving both women the perfect excuse to ignore one another for at least a few minutes.

The food was as good as the wine (which was excellent), and it occurred to Kate not for the first time since she'd arrived that she'd probably be having a pleasant enough evening were it not for her company. She's cute, smart, has good taste... too bad about the whole 'hating her guts' thing.

Eventually they finished their starters and were left sipping their wine until the mains arrived. Kate let out a sigh as she sat back in her chair - it had been a while since she had been out to eat like this and the wine was already going to her head, relaxing her despite her best efforts to stay spiky and alert.

"So how do you get along with the Princes?" Andy asked now, the fingers of her free hand tapping idly on the table as she lifted her glass to her lips with the other.

"They're good employers," Kate replied, her words carefully chosen. "They're new to the business but keen to learn, and to prove themselves."

"John Prince struck me as a bit of a... strong character," Andy said tactfully. "Haven't met Susannah - what's she like?"

"She's..." Needy. Vain. Immature. "Very nice."

"Well, that's good, then. Who's more involved with the stables? Or is it a couple thing for them?"

"They, ah, take different roles... John's more the financial side, Suse does more of the day-to-day stuff, I guess."

"He puts up the money, she likes horses?" Andy smirked a little, but it was almost companionable this time, including rather than excluding her companion.

Kate tried to keep from being taken in by this; clearly it was an act meant to get around her guard. "Yeah, something like that."

"Sounds like a neat enough arrangement."

"It's worked thus far."

"So you're enjoying this job?"

It's my life. "Yes, very much. The Princes have been very generous, and I've managed to build up an excellent stable over the past few years."

"High hopes for Blue Lotus, then? Have you found a jockey yet?"

"Mm. I mean yes, Brian O'Shea. He's an up-and-coming young jockey who I'm very excited to be working with."

Andy smiled a little. "I'm not looking for soundbytes, Kate," she said as their main course arrived. "I'm just making conversation, no need to worry too much about what you're saying."

"You're still recording," Kate pointed out, eyes flicking to the phone on the table. "Excuse me if I want to be careful with what I say."

Glancing at the phone, from the expression that crossed Andy's face it would be all too easy to believe she'd honestly forgotten she had the recorder switched on. Reaching for her phone, she not only apparently stopped the device, she actually turned her phone off and put it back in her bag.

Don't believe it. She probably just knows you're onto her and aren't going to give her anything good tonight. "You're not afraid you'll miss a call?" Kate asked dryly.

"If it's important they'll leave a message or call me again," Andy said with a shrug, picking up her fork. "How d'you like LA? Big change from New Jersey."

"I guess so. It's good for the horses, though - you never lose a day due to shitty weather."

"There any other differences in training? Do you have to worry about the heat at all?"

"In the height of summer yeah, we do... we train pretty early most days anyway, but in summer we'll run them at five or six in the morning to beat the heat."

"No late nights for you, then."

"Not really a hardship," Kate said with a smirk.

"No? you don't really partake of LA's glittering social life, then? Am I keeping you out of bed?" Andy added with a returning smirk of her own, raising her an eyebrow.

"Hey, you're the one who agreed to come out tomorrow morning, I'd be more worried about that if I were you."

"Oh? What time are you expecting me?"

"Well, it depends on what you want to see - we'll start running at seven."

Andy winced. "I'll be there."

Kate felt a small triumph at this, and turned her attention to her meal. Well... this could be worse, I guess.

The chicken was delicious too. Andy made an appreciative sound at the first mouthful, reaching to top up her wine, hovering the bottle over Kate's glass. "You driving?" she asked.

"It's L.A.," Kate replied with a shrug.

"Hey you could have a taxi, or some handsome young stud to pick you up," Andy quipped.

Kate smirked. "Well, my truck's outside, and it prefers girls." A moment later she realised what she had said and tried not to look worried. It's not like it's exactly a huge secret, right? And why would she print that anyway? Who cares?

Andy blinked. For a moment, Kate thought she'd broken the other woman's cool. Then she only said, "What kind of truck?"

"A Toyota Tacoma. Jamie calls it 'the ugly truck'," Kate said fondly.

"That's quite a name to live up to."

"Trust me, it does. I bought it cheap off this teenager who did it up all 'cool'... it's truly hideous."

Andy chuckled. "I'll look forward to my first viewing."

"Oh, you think you're going to get to ride in it? Not everybody is so lucky..."

The other woman's expression flickered, just slightly. "Oh, I wasn't expecting more than an outside view," she said evenly. "I mean, I don't know what sort of girls your truck likes..."

Is she flirting? No, can't be... "I don't think it even remembers anymore."

Andy tipped her head to one side a little. "Yeah? Well, ebbs and flows, right?" she said, almost gently.

"Doesn't really matter - as discussed, I don't tend to have a lot of free time for socialising. I'd rather spend it with the horses, anyway. People can be... difficult."

"No fucking kidding," Andy said with a smirk. "Now I don't know whether to feel bad for ugly truck or not."

"Feel bad for it when I replace it with something slick and sexy," Kate told her, "not before. It's pretty resigned to its lot."

"Ah, you know you'll keep it - especially if you buy a Porsche or something equally impractical. I replaced my old Chevy pick-up with BMW 1-Series a few years back and I still have it sitting in the garage at my mom's place."

"Oh yeah? Just in case you get the urge to do some off-roading?" Kate said with a look that could've been suggestive except for the fact that they definitely weren't flirting.

"God, I don't know if Cindy could handle off-road any more, but I like to know she's there if I ever want to move big stuff around, y'know?"

"Your truck's name is Cindy?"

"Sure. Not as descriptive as 'ugly truck', I realise, but so what? Don't judge me," Andy said, raising her glass to her lips once more.

"Sorry," Kate replied, raising her hands in an 'innocent' gesture, still grasping her fork and knife. "I'm sure she's lovely. Even if you did abandon her."

"We're just on a break. One day I'll retire and move to the country to collect cats and she'll be right there with me."

"Once you're done being a big globe-trotting reporter."

Andy snorted. "This is the farthest I've travelled for work in years," she said. "That's the problem with living in New York. There's so much to write about there you have no excuse to go anywhere."

"Well, it could be worse. Have you ever been to LA before?"

"Couple of times, back in my twenties when I was a gossip columnist. Covering events, that sort of thing - I did an Oscars piece one year and I swear, never again. Longest night of my life."

Kate smirked. "But movie stars! Glamour! Shit like that!"

"You get to many showbiz parties, do you? Do they start before your bedtime?"

"Oh no, you wouldn't catch me anywhere near parties like that. Past my bedtime or not."

"So you're just here for the weather, then."

"And the fact that no one on the East Coast will hire me." Kate's easy smile suddenly grew tight and brittle, her fork clinking against her plate as she set it down.

Andy sobered too, her eyes casting down to her food momentarily, and she speared a piece of chicken and put it in her mouth in silence.

Kate was annoyed at herself more than anything else - she had let herself fall into the trap of easy banter, forgetting to keep her guard up against the other woman. She was reasonably sure that the reporter wouldn't be fishing for information for her story now, but... She's the enemy. Don't forget that just because she's cute and bought you dinner.

Andy didn't make any further attempt at conversation, finishing her main course a little before Kate did, waiting for the other woman to finish and ordering a coffee before excusing herself for 'a minute', grabbing her phone and a cigarette carton and heading for the door. Somehow the fact that she was a smoker was far less surprising than Cindy the old pickup, and Kate gave an inward sigh. You don't care, remember? It's not like you're ever going to be in a situation where you care what she puts in her mouth, so stop pouting.

It was with a wry smile in Kate's direction that Andy took her seat again a few minutes later, finding that her coffee had already arrived. "No family deaths or frantic calls asking me to interview the President," she said in a mock-reassuring tone as she put her phone, apparently now switched back off, back into her bag.

"So I guess you'll still be coming to the track tomorrow." It was hard to tell if Kate was disappointed or not.

Andy shot Kate an on-then-off-again smile, then frowned slightly, apparently thinking again. "If it's going to be a problem, if you need some time or... whatever, any day is fine..."

"It really doesn't matter," Kate said with a shrug. "Tomorrow's as good as any day."

"Well, we'll start with tomorrow, then. Anything in particular I should know? Do I bring sugar cubes?"

"You'd be better off with peppermints."

The other woman smiled again, this time a little tentatively, up at her dinner companion. "Noted."

They parted ways not much later in a somewhat awkward fashion, Andy heading up to her room and Kate off to the parking lot, where her truck stood in sharp relief to the gleaming BMWs and Mercedes parked alongside it. She dialled Jamie's number before starting up the engine, popping her hands-free on as she pulled out into the street.

"Hey, how'd it go?" came the careful greeting.

"I survived... didn't even throw anything, that's how good I was."

"Well done you. You at the lodge tonight, or heading home?"

"Home, James." Kate chuckled. "That never gets old."

"You want company? I've got some homebrew that needs tasting, though it's getting a bit late..."

"You can crash at mine, come in with me in the morning? It'll be a little earlier than usual for you, but think of how much work you'll get done."

"Is that a 'yes, Jamie, please bring over your delicious beer'?"

"What, you want me to beg? Of course it is."

"I really am sorry." It wasn't the first thing Jamie said on arriving - there was beer to be poured and music to be chosen and they were seated on Kate's comfortable but somewhat impersonal couch in her well-appointed but somewhat bare lounge before she spoke. "About Andy Driver. She was down as Andrea in the appointment book; I just didn't make the connection."

"Seriously, don't worry about it," Kate said, shaking her head. "I blew up at you but it wasn't deserved - I was just thrown off kilter by her just showing up, you know?"

"I know. I... went back and did some web searches after, you know," Jamie said, looking down into her rather frothy, slightly cloudy pint. "Read the articles. I barely remember what happened, I was just a kid."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know." Jamie was more than ten years Kate's junior - the daughter of Kate's showjumping coach, the older woman had babysat her when she was still in diapers. They had drifted out of touch by the time the doping scandal had blown up, and it wasn't until Kate had moved to California a few years later that they had met up again, this time to find that they actually made quite good friends despite their age gap. Jamie's hiring as barn manager had been one of the conditions for Kate's working for the Princes; part of her felt obligated to help the young woman succeed in a tough business, while the other part recognised the need for at least one familiar face in this strange new land. "So. You read the articles. What'd you think?"

"I think..." Jamie frowned, blowing a breath out slowly. "I think I wish it had come out what really happened. It must have been really hard, even though you weren't ever charged, that you were never cleared either."

"Yeah, well. It was only one horse, but people wanted to believe I had done it," Kate said thoughtfully. She wasn't always so philosophical about it - there were nights where she fumed and ranted about the injustice that had been done to her - but she had exhausted her ire during her dinner with Andy Driver.

"I guess it was just too hard to believe that you could really be that good a trainer, to have trained up a horse that just couldn't lose like that."

"They retired him, you know. After I left." Kate gave a dry laugh, sipping her pint. "Sent him out to stud. Sometimes I wonder if they were afraid he'd lose once I was gone and the mystique would be ruined."

"What a fucking waste."

"Yeah, well. That's life."

"Mm. What d'you think?"

Kate looked up, confused, and Jamie smiled and raised her glass, wiggling it a little. "Oh, the beer! Yeah, it's... better?"

"Oh, screw you. I'm flyin' blind here!"

"Only because you refuse to take a class or read a book!"

"Hey, if cavemen or whatever learned to make beer without books or classes, so can I."

"Yeah, well, I'm just sayin', I'm sure their caveman friends were occasionally like 'Yo, dude, this tastes a bit funny'."

"Well, they were rude. Drink your beer."

"Urgh, ugh," Kate grunted, grinning and obeying.

The beer was a little yeasty, but it was alcoholic and it did the job. They turned in about half past ten, and despite the emotional evening Kate was lucky enough to escape any bad dreams. In the morning she dragged Jamie out of bed with promises of coffee and donuts, driving the few miles to the stables in relatively quiet traffic, though the streets were far from deserted even at six thirty in the morning.

To her considerable surprise - and not entirely to her pleasure - Andy Driver was already waiting for them outside the stables when they arrived, apparently having been there long enough to finish a cigarette, which she was now stubbing out into a tissue and tossing in the nearest bin.

"I'll see you in the office later," Kate told Jamie before sliding out of the truck and approaching the other woman at a leisurely pace. "No smoking once we get in the barns - it's just as bad for the horses as it is for humans."

"I figured; was getting my hit in now," Andy muttered, immediately pulling some gum from her bag, offering it to Kate in a cursory fashion before taking a piece herself. She looked thoroughly underslept, but not irritable, smiling at the other woman as she approached.

"Right. Well, I don't have time to give you a tour right now, they're already saddling up for the day and I need to be there to watch. You can come along or go wait in the office and Jamie can answer any questions you have about the day-to-day running of things."

"I'll come along today - I'll know better what questions to ask after a morning of bewilderment, I'd bet."

"Sure." Without another word Kate strode off towards the stables, hands in her pockets - it was still slightly damp and chilly, as the sun hadn't had time to burn off the fog layer quite yet.

Trudging after her in walking shoes that looked like they probably hadn't seen any real action since they were bought, Andy caught Kate up to walk alongside her, her stride a little shorter than that of the trainer, whose long legs ate up the distance. "So how does the day usually start?"

"The horses who are down for a track session go first... they're groomed, then pulled from their stalls, walked, saddled, and brought out for whatever workout they're scheduled for - which has been decided days or weeks in advance. Once they've run they're taken back to the stables, washed, walked, and then turned out for the rest of the day. After that the rest of the stable gets their exercise - unlike a lot of stables we don't just run them, there's a wide range of activities they might be taken through depending on where they are in their training and what their needs are."

"How many horses total are there in the stable right now?"

"Here in the barn? Only eight. There's fourteen more at the other facility near Malibu."

"So why are the eight in question here? They're the ones receiving intense training, or...?"

"They're all coming five or six-year-olds - old enough to start their track work." Kate paused, seeming to remember something. "Although this week we have a few of the three year olds as well - I'm observing them to see which are worth keeping on for the extended regime and which we should ditch."

"Anything promising?"

"I'm cautiously optimistic about two... their initial run times were quite good."

"So what are the signs of a good prospect?"

And so it went. Andy kept up a polite barrage of questions whenever Kate wasn't concentrating on something else. There was no sign of a recorder or notebook; either Andy wasn't interested in being able to reproduce what she was being told today, or she had a formidable memory.

Kate did her best to answer the questions honestly, and not to get too annoyed as the other woman followed her about, keenly observing her every move. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or worried when Susannah showed up at lunchtime, clad in her usual impeccable couture clothes and looking as much like a movie star as a businesswoman.

"Suse, hi... I didn't expect you today," Kate greeted her, wiping her hands on her grubby jeans before reaching out to clasp hands with the other woman and leaning in for the customary kiss on the cheek. "Is everything okay?"

"Absolutely - I just thought you might want a bit of respite," Susie said with a quick and unabashed glance in Andy's direction.

"Oh, well... this morning's been fine," Kate told her, "but if you wanted to take her for lunch that might be nice. I'm sure she has questions for you."

"Desperate to get rid of me already?" Andy tried to joke, though it fell slightly flat. After all, Kate would be entirely justified in being just that.

"Come, we'll go up to the clubhouse and have a lovely lunch while Kate does all the boring dirty work," Susannah said with a winning smile. "Unless you want to join us?"

"No, that's okay, I've got a lot to do before the gala tomorrow," the trainer said, shaking her head. "You go on without me."

"As long as I'm not missing anything I ought to see," Andy said, casting a questioning glance at Kate.

The other woman shrugged. "You can watch the farrier if you like, but you've seen 'em place one horseshoe, you've pretty much seen them all."

"Then I suppose I'm breaking for a glamourous lunch," Andy said, turning a warm, charming smile on Susie.

"Wonderful! Come, it's right this way..."

The clubhouse was more or less closed when they arrived, seeing as it was the off-season, but they still had no trouble getting a table and a waiter who scurried to bring them a pitcher of ice water and menus before disappearing discretely into the kitchen. Susannah Prince leafed through hers slowly, though she looked as if she couldn't do more than nibble on a light salad at best. "So... how has your morning been? I hope you've been impressed by what you've seen so far."

"Well, I wouldn't really know what to be impressed about, to be honest," Andy said with an easy smile. "But it's been interesting, certainly, seeing how things run. Kate's been great."

"She's wonderful, isn't she?" Susannah asked, setting down her menu. "So patient and knowledgeable. She's been a real sweetheart, helping me and John get up to speed with the whole business."

"You were never worried about her reputation or history?"

"Well... maybe a little initially," Susannah said with a slight hesitation. "But after spending some time with her it became apparent that she couldn't have done those things they said she did. And the price tag didn't hurt either..."

Andy nodded thoughtfully, eyes flickering away from Susie's for a moment, then back. "You work closely with her, then?"

"Mmhmm. I'm very hands-on, I don't want to be one of those owners who only shows up in the winning circle."

Nodding again, Andy gave her order (a club sandwich) to the hovering waiter, who seemed to know what Susannah would be having already, because he immediately took his leave. "So how d'you get along with Kate?"

"Oh, quite well," the blonde said breezily. "As I said, she's very patient, always willing to explain things to a rank beginner, and she can be quite fun at social events - so refreshing, you know?"

"How so?"

"Well, she's just different from all the usual suspects you get at such things... a breath of fresh air, I suppose."

"I see. Well, it's good that you two get along well. And good to know she's patient with beginners - I still have a lot to learn."

"But you must have picked up quite a lot the first time around, with your first story," Susannah said, tipping her head to one side curiously. "Surely."

Andy's smile turned a shade tight. "Only about doping," she said simply.

"Hm."

"Look, Susannah, I'm not sure what your husband said about him having me over here..."

"You're here to do a story on Kate, and on Prince Stables. Because we want to control the hype that's building around Lotus' premiere, and you're going to help us do so by writing a glowing piece about what you see over the next few days. Yes?" Susannah's gaze was sharp as she regarded Andy over her sparkling water.

Andy met the look head-on, a corner of her mouth twitching into half a smile. "Something like that, I suppose."

"Well then. It seems like we're all straight on the matter."

"It seems so."

"Good! So, please tell me John's invited you to the gala tomorrow, I'd hate to think you wouldn't be coming..."

"Gala? I think he may have neglected to mention it..."

"We're having a fundraising evening for one of the charities we work with - I'll make sure you get an invite, it's going to be a great evening."

"I'll look forward to it."

The two women chatted their way through the rest of lunch, Andy probing a little bit to try and figure out the Prince's relationship to their trainer and the story behind their collaboration - she had a niggling feeling there was something there, though she wasn't sure what, yet. For her own part Susannah Price (who insisted on 'Susie') was actually quite charming and much sharper than one might assume based on first impressions, witty and enjoyable to talk with, albeit still reeking of privilege and entitlement.0

When they finished they made their way back to the stables; Susie asked a groom to point out where Kate could be found and he did so, obviously somewhat intimidated by the blonde woman despite her small stature and bright smile. They finally located her in one of the barn aisles, deep in conversation with a diminutive young woman standing next to a tall grey horse - Prince's Blue Lotus, Andy guessed. She hung back to listen to the conversation rather than interrupt it.

"...and just take it easy, yeah? After that idiot Masters blew her out on Wednesday she doesn't need to really run, much as she may want to. So just hold her in and pace her carefully." The trainer gave a warm smile and reached up to clasp the young woman's shoulder briefly. "I trust you to take care of her."

The young rider beamed at this. "Thanks," she said. And, "I will."

Kate stepped back as the rider took a leg up and jogged out of the barn, her eyes assessing the Thoroughbred's movement even here. She spotted Andy after a moment and flattened her lips, then sighed and approached her. "Ms Driver. Did you have a nice lunch?"

"Lovely, thanks - good clubhouse here."

"Mm, yeah."

"Though I suppose you spend most of your time here?"

"Mostly. I don't get up to the clubhouse much."

Andy smiled a little. "That doesn't surprise me."

The other woman seemed to be about to say something to this, then decided against it. "What do you want to do next?"

"Just whatever you're doing is fine, if I can tag along - I don't want to get in the way."

"Usually right now I'd be checking emails," Kate replied with a smirk. "I doubt you want to sit and watch me do that."

"Well, why don't you go and check your emails, and I'll tag along and ask irritating questions about what you got up to while I was lunching with Susie?"

"...okay."

The trainer's office was small but well-appointed, decorated in keeping with with rest of the charming and rustic barn decor. There was a comfortable chair for Andy to sit in, and to her credit Kate only eyed her suspiciously for a few minutes before booting up her computer and getting to work.

"So Susie Price seems to be a big fan," she opened eventually.

"Hm?" Kate asked, glancing up briefly. "Oh. Well, I'm glad. Obviously a bit part of the job is making sure the Princes are happy with my work."

"Do you get much trouble with John Prince throwing his weight around?"

"He's entitled to make any decisions he likes, ultimately - it's his investment," the trainer replied carefully.

"It must be frustrating, sometimes, though."

"Working under any boss or manager is, by those standards."

"Damn right," Andy replied with a smirk.

"So if you're trying to get me to say something negative about my bosses I'd advise you to save your breath. I owe everything to the Princes, the last thing I'd do would be to badmouth them in the national press. Even if they deserved it," Kate added after a moment's pause.

The other woman's brows drew into a frown. "I was just making conversation," she said. Then, "I'm not out to get you, Kate."

"Excuse me if I find it hard to believe a leopard can change its spots that easily."

"I think you misunderstand me," Andy said with a sigh, sitting back in the chair and crossing her legs at the ankle. "But that's okay, we don't need to talk about your bosses, it's not relevant to the article. What were you doing over lunchtime?"

Kate sighed and looked back to her computer. "Overseeing the farrier - the horseshoer. He comes out every two weeks to check everybody's feet and pull and replace plates and shoes if he needs to."

"Did he need to do anything today?"

"A few things. Lotus had new plates on, which is why I held her track time to the afternoon to see how she likes them."

"I see. So the girl, is she staff here? Or a budding jockey on some sort of placement, or..."

"She's an exercise rider. She's on the Prince's staff, I hired her about a year ago. Exercise riders are the ones responsible for getting the horses out on the track in day-to-day life - and other places, in my barn. Jockeys only actually ride the horses in races, or for a pre-race acclimatisation. Otherwise the people you see out there putting them through their paces are exercise riders, almost across the board."

"I see. So how many staff d'you have at the stables?"

"Including myself? About fifteen full-time, and a handful more part-time, depending on need."

"Is that a large staff?"

"No, not at all. But we're still a small stable."

"Do you like that, or are you hoping to see things expand? I mean, what's your ideal? Where would you like to be in a few years' time?"

Kate sighed and sat back from her computer. "It depends how things go. Obviously I'd like to expand, but not so much that I can't still oversee things personally to ensure a standard level of training."

"You want to keep your hands dirty. I mean... to stay involved at ground level," Andy rephrased carefully.

"I feel like I need to. The way I do things is so different from the norm that if I were to step back they'd probably start to slide back."

"So is the day to day different too? I mean, I know that you keep the horses off the track 'til they're five, but is there more to it than that, then?"

"Mmhmm. The horses get a much more well-rounded training schedule under my watch - hillwork, things like that - and they're turned out far more than your average racehorse. I'm convinced of the benefits, but not everybody's been swayed yet. If I took my eye off they might start cutting corners, and I wouldn't want that."

"But ultimately the benfit's to the horse, right? I mean, it's about prolonging their healthy life. Is there any benefit from the point of view of the owner? Do they get a return on their investment in all those extra years of expensive care?"

"Absolutely. A few decades ago the average number of lifetime starts for a racehorse was above fifty. Now it's seventeen. Seventeen. Owners are losing out on almost forty starts, on average, because they're running babies into the ground, drugging them and conditioning them poorly. I can't see how this doesn't benefit everyone, horse and owner and trainer alike."

"So they actually do have a longer lifespan, then? It's not just shifting the same span by a few years?"

"Horses are made to work, Ms Driver. Properly managed a horse can showjump competitively until it's nearly twenty. I don't see why racehorses can't continue to race - and win - for many years longer than they do right now."

Andy nodded thoughtfully. "There are other trainers out there doing what you do, right? I mean, you do see horses racing for the first time when they're a bit older, now and again."

"A few, here and there. They're mostly independent though - they haven't got the backing of a big owner."

"So in some ways this is kind of a coup for you, in the end, should Lotus work out."

"She will," Kate said fervently, though she wore an expression of doubt. "She's going to be great."

Andy's smiled flickered on, though there was something more contemplative in her eyes. "I hope so," she said.

"Mm. Do you have any more pressing questions? If not, I have a few emails to compose and I'll need to concentrate on them for a while."

"By all means," Andy said, pulling out her own phone. "I'm sure I can entertain myself on Facebook for a bit."

"Oh, uh... all right."

"Oh, unless you'd rather be left alone?"

Kate raised her eyebrows, then shrugged. "No, it's fine. Facebook away."

Andy flashed that annoyingly bright smile in Kate's direction. "Enjoy your emails."

The emails took a lot longer than they usually did, mostly because of Andy's distracting presence in the room. It wasn't that she was doing anything particularly distracting, but Kate couldn't keep from glancing up periodically, checking what she was doing and whether she was watching Kate work. She never was.

Eventually, the emails were done, and she could hear sounds drifting through from the stable suggesting that Lotus had returned from her run on the track. Kate closed down her laptop and stood, jerking her head towards the door. "I'm heading back to the barn. You can come if you like, or stay in the outer office with Jamie."

"I'll come and see the barn."

"Alright."

Lotus was already unsaddled by the time the two women arrived, a light cooler having been thrown over her as she was walked up and down the aisle.

"How did she go?" Kate wanted to know of the exercise rider, who nodded, reaching up to remove her helmet.

"Pretty good... I think she likes the shoes. Really dug in on the turn, seemed to have pretty good traction."

"Good. We'll run her again in a couple days and see how she gets on then. Hopefully we've struck on the winning combination now."

"So are shoes important?" Andy asked as they made their way away from the stable block once more.

"Yes, very. Thoroughbreds don't have great feet at the best of times, and racing can be pretty hard on them. Not to mention the different track conditions. So we shoe them in light plates with extra traction to help their times - like an athlete wearing spikes on their shoes."

"Hang on, racehorses have bad feet? Like, generally? Shouldn't they have been bred for good feet?"

"Yes, but good feet usually come with big thick legs and a slow gait. Not very good for running faster than the other guy."

Andy smirked slightly. "In other words, there's actually no way to optimise a horse for racing, because that's not really what they're for?"

"Very few animals collided with humanity and came out optimised for anything other than pleasing people," Kate said with a frown. "Just look at pugs, or Persian cats, or hell, any cow."

"So why work with them? Race horses, I mean. Why not train police horses, or run a trail riding stable or whatever?"

"Because... I don't know, because I like them. They're stupid and flighty and have bad feet, but a Thoroughbred has more heart than just about any creature on Earth," Kate replied, shoving her hands into her pockets. "And I like that."

When she looked up again, Andy was staring - no, gazing at her, with an expression that was at once unreadable, unsettling, and (in spite of herself) intriguing. "Might quote you on that one," she murmured.

"Yeah, okay," Kate said, looking away again and trying not to act too self-conscious. So you managed to squeeze out a soundbyte she's happy with. So what? Couple more of those and maybe she'll get out of your hair. "There's not much more to see today. So if you wanted to head off..."

"Oh, I guess I could do. What are you up to this evening? I suppose you'll want a night at home to mentally prepare for this fundraiser..."

Kate looked surprised. "How do you.... wait, let me guess. Susie invited you?"

Andy shot the other woman an easy - though almost shy - smile. "Some people find me likeable, you know."

"Yeah, well. I'm sure you'll have a great time schmoozing tomorrow night."

"And you?"

"I'll be there," Kate said, shoulders slumping.

"Don't think I've ever seen anyone so unenthused by the prospect of free wine and canapés."

"I just don't like being paraded around like some... prize pig," the trainer said, making a face. "A pig with a scandal attached to it, no less."

The other woman nodded slowly, her expression sympathetic. "So you didn't answer my question. Tonight? Don't suppose you'd be amenable to another run at eating a meal together without you wanting to kill me? At the very worst you could console yourself that you're eating on the dime of the magazine who're giving you all this crap. We could go somewhere really expensive?"

Are you crazy? Another meal? Kate tried to ignore the memory of their mutual not-flirtation, and how nice (and confusing) it had been to be out with someone, anyone, like that. "Listen, Ms Driver-"

"Andy, please."

"Andy, fine. I've tried to be cooperative here, and I really do hope you're getting enough to do your story or whatever. I just... I don't think it's a very good idea for us to do stuff in... out-of-work hours."

"I don't really have out-of-work hours. When are we going to get a chance to talk if we don't do it away from the stables? I don't want to interfere with your day there."

"I thought... I thought we'd talked plenty already," Kate said, looking confused.

"I like to gather plenty of material. It makes for a better rounded article. This is a feature, not a straight-up interview."

"What's the difference?"

"Man hours and effort, mostly. I'm writing about my whole experience here, not just mindlessly asking you questions and reporting your answers verbatim."

"So you will be gathering information for your article when we- if we went to dinner tonight."

"Not information, per se. More... impressions. Stories. I'm still finding the narrative here." Andy tipped her head to the side. "You know you get sign-off on this, right?"

"What?"

"You have final refusal on anything printed in the magazine. This isn't an exposé or an investigation. Nothing's printed without your say-so - with the understanding of course that something will be printed following your review. It was John Prince who signed the contract, technically, but I certainly won't be printing anything if you voice an objection."

"Oh." Kate blinked, obviously taken aback. "I didn't realise... that was how it went. No one told me."

"They probably just assumed." Andy paused, then tried again. "So. Dinner? Anywhere we can get a table, I swear."

"I... okay."

"Great. Book somewhere and text me a time and address? I'll get back to the hotel and change - and check in with my intern; Jesus knows what he's been up to."

"You have an intern?"

"Mm, some hipster kid with a gambling obsession. I sent him off on some research snipe hunt a couple of days back. He's probably propping up a coffee bar somewhere with wifi."

"Uh, right. Okay." Kate nodded, her hands still in the pockets of her jeans. "I guess I'll see you later, then."

Andy pursed her lips down at the meagre collection of outfits she'd brought with her on the trip. She wasn't terribly fussy about what she wore, in point of fact, and was generally able to look the part in any setting. She just wasn't quite sure what 'the part' was tonight.

Was she still firmly in 'reporter' territory? She had told Kate that she wanted to gather impressions for her piece, which was true, but was that all? Certainly they weren't friends; Kate had made that abundantly clear. In past character studies, Andy had done well in exploiting this middle-ground between congeniality and professionalism - she knew the subject all the better for it and they tended to be happy with the results. With Kate... well, she'd always known things would be different with Roundtree - difficult, complicated. She'd been prepared to be a little messy, a little more-or-less formal as required. Unfortunately it had left her in the rather curious position of being unsure where she stood with the other woman, which was not usually a position she found herself in on her side of the equation.

Still, at least the trainer had agreed to come out with her a second time; she had been expecting a cold refusal and so was pleasantly surprised by Kate's reluctant acceptance. Maybe it was just the lure of an all-expenses-paid night out, but she hoped she was getting somewhere, anywhere, with the other woman. She was learning plenty about the sport of horseracing, and had seen rare glimpses of the passion and dedication she thought she might be able to build her story around, but there was still a long way to go before she had a well-rounded picture of the woman she was profiling.

Fuck it. Losing patience with herself, Andy grabbed her stock go-to black cocktail dress. Now no matter where we go, I'm covererd.

The restaurant Kate had chosen was upscale, but far from the wallet-draining places people like Susannah and John Prince frequented, she knew. She wouldn't have been comfortable at a place like that, however, and was glad to have been given control of where they ate lest they end up somewhere that only served flavoured air or something else equally ridiculous.

She had ended up wearing a pair of slim-fitting dark blue jeans, a nice top and blazer, which she figured was neither too dressy nor too casual for the occasion. Sitting at the table waiting for the reporter to arrive she wondered if she should have put up more of a fuss before agreeing to meet her, but it was a little too late for second thoughts now. The other woman arrived on time - she spotted her dark red hair bobbing toward her through the crowd at the door and a moment later Andy emerged from the throng of waiting prospective diners, light jacket over her arm, clad in a short black dress, form-fitting but with a modest slashed neck, looking paler than ever with her creamy white legs exposed.

Kate nodded to her as she sat down, trying not to look too embarrassed by her own less-than-fancy dress. "You found it okay, then," she remarked, for lack of anything better to say.