Page 55
Story: My High Horse Czar
“Uh huh.” I say.
“Sorry for kicking you out,” she says. “My manager’s really strict on that rule.”
“It’s fine.” I don’t tell her that she was helping me. “You were right.”
She shakes her head. “If you want to go back in there, I won’t tell.”
I can’t help my laugh.
“Seriously.” She chuckles. “I’d claw someone’s face off to get back in there if he was asking for me.”
Alright, this woman is funny. “Do you have anything you’d recommend for him?”
“Clothes, you mean?” She grins. “Girl, please. Who cares what he wears? I’d be thinking about things to do once you’ve taken them off.”
Oh my word. “Clothes,” I say. “Definitely clothes.”
“Sure,” she says. “But it sure seems like a shame.”
I nod slowly. “Like covering up the Mona Lisa with a car cover.”
She giggles. “Exactly like that.”
But someone like Alexei’s utterly wasted on me, because no matter how delicious he is, I’ll never take a bite. “Listen,” I say. “He needs some help picking out clothing, and I’m definitely not the right one to provide it. How about you do me a favor and pick out a wardrobe you’d want him to wear?”
And just like that, I walk away from the temptation and wait in the car with Mirdza.
Kris jogs out to join us a few moments after I escape, and the girls almost immediately pounce.
“Do you seriously never plan to date anyone?” Kris asks.
“Yep. I really don’t.”
“But why?” she looks genuinely confused.
“One word, that I’ve already said.” I pause. “Martinš.”
“But Mirdza had the same stepfather, and she dated Danils too, and now she has Grigoriy.”
“Listen, I know you’re both really happy with your horse men, and I even see the draw.” Oh, boy do I see the attraction. “Hot, powerful, rich Russians, who have magical powers and can shift into amazing stallions?” I shake my head. “Believe me. I get it.”
“But?” Kris is not letting this go.
“Do you remember when you had that birthday party—your twelfth birthday?”
Kris nods.
“Your mom served shrimp.”
“You’d never had it, and you ate, like, the whole platter.” Kris is smiling.
“Correction,” I say. “Neither Mirdza nor I had ever had it, and together we ate the entire platter.”
“Mom was so embarrassed,” Mirdza says.
“And that night, we both got really sick, puking our guts up.”
“I forgot about that,” Mirdza says. “That flu was awful. It lasted for days.”
Table of Contents
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- Page 55 (Reading here)
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