“Take it however you like, but you’re not Jervis,” she muttered as she pushed past me into my consultation room. “So, where is the tactical seat?” She stood with her jean-clad legs spread in a defiant stance, and I was so overwhelmed with her self-assured, sardonic view of the world, I felt my heart actually beginning to race. She was like a two-year-old Thoroughbred. Slender and long-legged, her mane of hair emanating youthful good health. She was also restless, untrusting, and ready to bolt at any moment.
“Take whichever tactical seat you prefer,” I offered, extending my arm to sweep the room. She took mine. This made me smile, and I chose to outplay her and took the seat behind my desk, leaving the expanse of glass between us. This forced her to rotate in her chosen chair in order to see me, but she stared straight ahead, leaving me her profile to contemplate.
I picked up my tablet. “So, Miss Elizabeth Langford…” I began.
“No.”
“No?”
“Auggie.”
“Auggie,” I repeated, feeling as though we were playing some game.
“My name is Auggie, after my Aunt Augusta. Not Elizabeth, or Lizzie, or Betsy or Liz or any other perverted deviation you think you can use to get in my pants.”
My eyebrows rose at this. This game sounded familiar; very, very personally familiar. “Very well, Miss Elizabeth, Lizzie, Betsy, Liz, Augusta…” I mocked her.
“Stop it! Auggie or don’t call me by name.” She turned to look at me briefly and I could see coltish fire in her green eyes. Jesus, but she turns me on!
“Auggie, it is. What brings you here today?”
“Mother didn’t leave any instructions?” she asked pertly. “Mother must be slipping. She never forgets details when it comes to managing my life. She may as well pin a note to my blouse like when I was in kindergarten.”
So, it was to be a smothering mother thing, but somehow I didn’t think so. I felt like she was playing with me.
“Why do you think you’re here?” I tried.
She lifted a shoulder. “Not really here for any reason. Caught my intended fiancé in a compromising position with someone else and refused his resulting proposal. Mother doesn’t know the truth but seems to think this means I’m disturbed.” She made air quotations around the word as she uttered it.
“Okay, well, is it possible he was having one last fling before committing to you?” I tried to mitigate the damage.
“If you call one last fling a muck jockey with a cock bigger than his,” she spat back and crossed one leg over the other.
I almost choked on the saliva she was creating in my mouth. “I see,” I finally managed. “Hmmm… and you don’t think he swings both ways, I take it?”
She looked at me straight on and asked in a sing-song voice typical for an eight-year-old girl who got kicked out of the cool kid’s club. “Would you settle for being half of both ways?”
I could see her point. God, but I wanted her. “It isn’t important what I think,” I gave the standard response.
“Oh, really? Well, if I don’t care and you don’t think, what the hell am I doing in this chair spending Mother’s carefully planted money?” She was defiance in raging glory.
“Our conversation is privileged,” I pointed out.
“Really? She didn’t pick Jervis by accident, I can tell you that.”
“I’m not Jervis,” I answered succinctly.
She scowled at me. “No, you’re not. So just who the hell are you, anyway?”
I couldn’t resist. “You must have wandered in here by accident. I’m a gynecologist, Dr. LaViere.”
Three precious seconds passed as my words sank in and she considered if what I said could possibly be true. Then, the glow of recognition, the dawning as she realized I was putting her on. “Screw you!” she spat, leapt to her feet and stalked out, slamming doors as she left.
It seemed the day wasn’t a total waste, after all. I was craving something and looked toward the closet bar, but bourbon wasn’t it. I was craving the colt who had just bolted.
CHAPTER SIX
Auggie
“Well, Mother, I met your Dr. Jervis,” I announced as she stirred her mint julep on the veranda. “Only it wasn’t your Dr. Jervis,” I added before skipping inside to put on my riding clothes. This seemed like the perfect afternoon for a date with Carlos.
I knew she couldn’t resist. “What do you mean, not my Dr. Jervis?” She was hot on my heels.
“Why does that upset you so badly, Mother? Could it be you had one of your magic spells already in place?” I asked, feeling suddenly superior. Perhaps Mother taught me a thing or two over the years.
“Elizabeth Augusta, you stand still this instant and tell me what you’ve done now!”
“Are you speaking to me?” I asked in my warning tone.
Mother stomped one foot in vexation. “Young lady, you are to stop this nonsense right now. I went to great pains to find you the right therapist and now you’re telling me you didn’t see him at all? Who did you talk to? These are very private concerns, young lady. We can’t have just anyone privy to our family matters.” Mother was losing ground with every word she spoke. She’d lost my interest with her “young lady” opening.
I slammed my bedroom door and changed my clothes, leaving the discarded items on the floor where they belonged. I waited until her muttering decreased as she descended the staircase before opening my door and venturing out. I heard the patio door shut firmly — Mother never slammed anything; it wasn’t ladylike — and then skipped out the front door toward the stables.
Carlos heard me coming and was restless in his paddock, waiting to be released. Together we were the wind.
I didn’t return until the last rays of sunlight and as I was brushing Carlos down, Dad appeared.
“Auggie, we have to talk,” he began. It was obvious he’d rather be doing anything else, but had been sent by Mother to get this settled.
“I was expecting you eventually,” I acknowledged him. He really was a dear, old sweetheart, even if he had no spine. Dad was forever in the role of peacemaker.
“Your mother tells me…” Why do all his sentences begin that way? “that you went to see Dr. Jervis today but for some reason, she has the idea you saw someone else. Is that true?” His wording was carefully selected.
Carlos, ever my defender, kicked over a water bucket at that moment and Dad actually started a bit at the noise. I wanted to put him at ease but didn’t particularly want to reward Mother’s machinations. I compromised.
“Mother scheduled me to see Dr. Jervis but apparently, his receptionist thought it a better idea that I see his new partner,” I explained.
“I see.” Dad looked relieved that there might just be a simple explanation here after all. His shoulders sagged and I wondered briefly how long it had been since Dad had walked erectly with pride.
“Father, when will Mother realize that I’m a grown woman and no longer need her to supervise my life? I’m a college graduate, remember? I must know something about my life to get that far, don’t you think?”
“Yes, yes, of course, Auggie, but your mother is old school. She is very conscious of the family’s social position. I don’t need to tell you that.”