Leaping Hearts(65)

Peter droned on until he was upstaged when Regina stepped forward into the lights. Elbowing her son aside, she launched into an affected stream of adulation for Garrett that was something between a Barbara Cartland narrative and a car commercial. A.J. found it nauseating.

As his mother performed her monologue, Peter entered the crowd. Marceau and the blond appendage were right behind him and they all were heading straight for A.J.

“Aren’t you going to congratulate us on our new partnership?” Peter said as soon as he was in earshot.

“Of course,” A.J. replied. “I don’t think you two are necessarily destined for greatness but I wish you well.”

“Marceau is going to get the Sutherland name in lights.”

“Maybe. Or perhaps he’ll just move on to some other stable.”

Peter’s haughty air bloomed. “When Philippe starts winning every major event on the circuit, and the Sutherland name is on everyone’s lips in a good way, you’re going to rue the day you picked that horse over your family.”

“Are you forgetting who put me in the position to choose?”

“You were the one who bought him. Now you’re going to see what it cost you.”

A.J.’s anger swelled, masking how much it still hurt that her father had given Peter the stables. Her voice became sharp. “That stallion cost me thirty grand and the dubious pleasure of seeing you every night over dinner. All things considered, he’d have been a bargain at half a million.”

Her stepbrother’s face flushed an ugly red. “You didn’t exactly leave us heartbroken, either.”

Time to go, A.J. told herself, noting the argument was taking on more of an edge than usual. The last thing she wanted was to stage a fight with Peter out in the open at her father’s birthday gala.

“Much as I’d like to continue this,” she said, “I’m going to say good night and good luck.”

“Winning teams don’t need luck,” he said heatedly.

“When you find one, let me know.”

“You’re looking at the partnership that is going to revolutionize this sport. And you’re getting left behind with that crazy load of dog meat. Your career is over.”

Emotions running high, A.J. lashed out. “Just because you recruited the only other Froot Loop in the business with taste in clothes as bad as your own doesn’t mean you’re a lock for success. You need more than a stunning lack of fashion sense and a blind tailor to win in the ring.”

Peter lunged at her, catching everyone by surprise.

In the nick of time, Devlin stepped forward to protect her, blocking the way.

“Back off, Conrad,” he said darkly.

All around them, people were turning curious eyes toward the scuffle, eager for more drama to unfold.

A.J. was shocked by Peter’s outburst. They’d always argued but he’d never lost control like that before. Hearing his labored breaths, feeling her own heart pounding in her chest, she found herself truly regretting their relationship. Why did things always end up badly between them?

Tangled in her own thoughts, she watched mutely as Peter stepped away from Devlin. Her stepbrother tugged his tuxedo jacket in place with hands that shook.

With the situation defused, Marceau took the opportunity to insert himself gallantly in front of his new partner. “Do not arch to her level.”

“That’s stoop to my level,” A.J. corrected absently.

Devlin took her elbow. “I think we should go.”

“Yes, do remove her,” Philippe said. “With your leg, I imagine babysitting is all that you are good for now.”

Emotion surged again and a stinging retort came to the tip of A.J.’s tongue. But, instead of going with her instinct, she cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders. “Good night, Philippe. Peter.”

Her stepbrother’s voice was bitter. “You’re going to regret this.”

“You know something, I think you’re right,” she replied. “In fact, I think I’m beginning to feel sorry for us.”

Peter looked at her with utter confusion before she and Devlin left for the foyer.

When they got to the front door, they paused.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” she said. “Again.”

“There’s a lot of anger between the two of you.”

“Yes. But it’s high time to change that. I just wish I knew how.”

As much as Peter could be a source of intense frustration, she didn’t hate him and knew he wasn’t truly evil. She also was beginning to see her own role in their dysfunction. If she took a moment to think about it, what she was really upset about were the unresolved issues between her and Devlin and the amount of time her injury had cost her training. The announcement about Marceau, and Peter’s jabs, had given her something to react to and had unleashed her anxieties. Add to all that the fact Peter knew how to play her well, and ka-boom.

“I don’t like arguing with him. I really don’t,” she said softly.

Aware she’d been silent for a long time, she looked up into Devlin’s eyes and forgot about Peter and her family and her concern over the lost training. Everything else drifted away.

“Is this good night?” she asked him.

“Only if that’s what you want. I came here to talk with you.”