The Drafter

“That way.” Howard pointed to a narrow sawdust path that led away from the track, and she pushed herself into motion, relishing the chance to move. A flicker of mistrust rose as they passed the sign stating they were headed for the platinum campsites, but her gut said Howard was being honest with her. His mood had softened this morning, and she had the growing suspicion that he felt she needed rescuing.

 

“It’s up on the right,” Howard said, head down over his phone as three girls in skirts too short and heels too tall passed them going the other way. “It’s about time she answered my text.”

 

“Gawwd,” one of the girls drawled. “Did you see her black eye?”

 

Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. Giving her hair a fluff, she lifted her chin. It is what it is.

 

Howard’s pace slowed as they entered the campsites and he began casting about. Huge RVs were spaced haphazardly under old trees. A number of them had golf carts parked in front. Others had tents with alfresco eating more lavish than most restaurants offered inside. There was a permanent pool and spa, and horses were clearly welcome, judging by the number of places available to tie them up or water them down. Millionaires camping out. Go figure.

 

“There,” he said, exhaling in relief, and Peri followed his pointing finger to one of the more elaborate campsites under a banner reading JACQUARD EQUINES. A blond woman in a black evening dress sat in the cabana-like lounge area, her laptop and tablet open and in use. An overdone silk derby hat crowned by a veil and an enormous magnolia blossom rested on the table beside an untouched julep, unnoticed as she talked on her glass phone. But it was the multiple dishes on the roof of the RV that captured Peri’s attention. This was the alliance? She’d been expecting something backroom and slick with sunglass-wearing security. This felt like home.

 

Seeing them, the woman stood, her conversation continuing as she came forward. She moved confidently, smoothing her long blond hair, which had been mussed by the hat. Peri eyed her low-heeled sandals in approval—stylish but still good to run in. Her dress was modestly high at the bodice, but it clung to accentuate her femininity. Even her jewelry was perfect, simple enough to keep her from sliding into the ranks of partygoers but saying “money” nonetheless. It was clearly a cultivated look, both elegant and in charge.

 

“Hi, can I help you?” she said with a slight drawl, phone call ending as her gaze ran over Peri before returning to Howard. And then her eyes widened. “Oh. My. Gawd! Howard!” she exclaimed, her southern drawl strengthening. “I haven’t seen you since my freshman year!”

 

“Taf.” Howard grinned, grunting in surprise when she yanked him into an enthusiastic hug. Her hair shifted to show a butterfly tattoo, and then she pushed back, beaming. “Wow, you look fabulous. I should have changed my major. How’s life been treating you?”

 

“Great! I work for one of the big hospitals planning their events. I’m using up all my vacation days to help my mom out on this, but God help her, she needed it. How about you? You got your license, right? I bet you’re why my mom is in such a state. Lord love a duck, you know better than to bother her when she’s fund-raising.”

 

“Yeah. About that.” Flushed, Howard dropped back, his eyes darting to Peri to include her. “Taf, I’d like you to meet Peri Reed. Peri, this is Taf Jacquard. We met at school. I was pre-med. I think Taf was going for her MRS degree. How many majors did you have, anyway?”

 

MRS degree, as in Mrs…. Peri took the woman’s hand, surprised at how firm it was.

 

“Just one,” Taf said, giving him a mock punch as she let go of Peri. “I’m a marketing events coordinator, which means I can plan one hell of a party for six or sixty thousand. Nice to meet you. It’s Taffeta, actually, but call me Taf.”

 

“Pleasure,” Peri said, forcing her smile to stay undimmed as Taf checked out her scuffed boots, wrinkled slacks, and ugly coat. At least she didn’t say anything about her black eye.

 

“Is your mom around?” Howard asked, fidgeting. “She’s expecting us. I think.”

 

“Sure. Come on up and sit down,” Taf said, and then louder to the aide hovering near the cabana, “Find out where my mom is, will you?” The aide murmured something, and Taf barked, “Then text her! The woman has her phone grafted to her ass.” All smiles, Taf turned back to them. “You want something to drink? It might take a minute. She’s got an entire group flying in from LA, and she’s trying to cram in as much as she can before they get here.”

 

Peri eyed the cabana in anticipation, but before they could move, Taf sighed at the sound of hoofbeats. “Speak of the devil and she will appear,” she said, a tired resolve in her voice. Peri caught a flash of irritation on the young woman’s face, and then it was gone.

 

“Hoo … boy.” Howard backed up when an arch-necked, light-blond mare high-stepped into the campsite. “I really don’t like horses.”

 

“Then you came to the wrong spot,” Taf said as two men in stable livery came out from behind the RV to take the animal’s head.

 

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