Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 123171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
“She was so drunk,” Louisa wheezes. “Our dad had to go get her because she was wandering around the ring. I never realized how good of a horse Phoenix was until he put up with you drunk-riding.”
We all laugh, but I see a distant look in Poppy’s eye. She casts her gaze down to her wine glass, which Louisa takes as a cue to refill it.
“Your entire family came to watch you at shows?” Poppy’s voice is so low I almost don’t hear her.
“We did,” Louisa replies. “It felt like every damn weekend in the summer.”
“Wow. I could hardly get my parents to go to even one of my shows.” She takes another drink of wine and I’m starting to think I was right about her all along. “You are all still close?”
Maybe the wine is hitting me already, or maybe I’m realizing how lucky I am to have such a supportive family. “We are. They all really stepped in after Ev was born.”
“I would have been disowned,” Poppy says quietly again. “You went to the Michigan Horse Fair?”
I follow her line of sight to a bag with the MHF logo on it. “I did. It was fun, though I only got to spend like half a day there.”
“I went last year. The Equine Affair in Ohio is my favorite. It’s usually in March, so you kinda just missed it.”
“Ohh, maybe next year I’ll put it on my calendar. I tried to network as much as I could at the Horse Fair. One of my aunt’s friends told me that’s what she used to do. I did get several donations, which was awesome.”
“You need to register as a nonprofit,” my sister says, already pulling up something on her phone. “I can help. Though, it’s not a crazy process.”
“You’ve already looked into it, haven’t you?”
“Yes, and I might have already started filling out forms.”
“Overachiever,” I scoff with a laugh.
“Speaking of networking, my father is a major donor to an equine wellness charity gala,” Poppy starts. “I’m supposed to go this weekend, but, I, uh…” She blinks rapidly and I can see that not only was I right about her overcompensating, but I can see just how lonely she is. She told me she’s lived here for years and, yet, doesn’t have any friends—which I’m still sure is her fault, as she’s scared them all off.
But, dammit, I’m starting to feel sorry for her.
“I won’t be able to wear heels with my foot all bruised and swollen. You’d be more than welcome to my ticket. If you want to network and get donations for a rescue, this is the place to do it. The men have money to burn and get tax write-offs for donations. And I’m talking donations in the thousands.”
“Oh, wow. We could do a lot with that,” I say without thinking too much into it.
“Go in my place,” Poppy insists.
“I can’t take another day away from here.” Bringing my wine to my lips, I take a sip and shake my head. “There’s a lot to do.”
“I’m here,” Louisa reminds me. “And I came to help. If you have an opportunity to network, take it.”
“You should,” Poppy presses, and I know this is half about networking and half about getting out of seeing her father. Why she wants to avoid him—I have no idea. And I’m not sure she’s ready to share just yet.
“I have nothing to wear. Galas are black tie.”
“You can have my dress.” Poppy tips her head as she looks at me. “It’ll have to be altered, especially in the bust. I’ll call my seamstress tomorrow and see if she can get you in.”
“I didn’t bring any fancy shoes with me,” I go on, knowing this really would be a great chance to get much-needed donations, especially if I can get us officially registered as a nonprofit. As an adult, I don’t get many chances to get all dolled up; though, going alone to a charity gala is making me feel anxious already.
But I made the promise to Aunt Kim and the horses that I’d figure something out and connecting with the right person—with the right amount of cash to dispose of—could be that something.
“I have a pair of silver Louboutin heels in my car,” Louisa says casually. “And we wear the same size shoe.”
“Why do you have such expensive shoes in your car?” I ask incredulously.
“I change into flats when I leave the office,” she goes on to explain. “I have to look the part of a swanky lawyer when I’m meeting clients but fuck four-inch heels when I’m walking to my car.”
“I will break my neck in those.”
Louisa waves her hand in the air and drains the rest of her wine. “They’re probably more like three and a half. I’ve seen you in heels before.” She looks at Poppy. “What color is the dress?”