Page 45 of Polo Fever
Later that night, I can hear the muffled voices of the team and High Fives downstairs and I try to convince myself that I’m listening because I’m nosy and not because it makes me smile every now and then when I hear the faint sound of his voice amongst them.
*
A couple of days later, I’m saying goodnight to Serafina – a long, drawn-out process because I find it hard to leave her – when Mateo comes strolling in carrying two mugs and a bottle of wine. I look at him quizzically and he holds a mug out for me to take.
‘If you won’t come for a drink with me at the pub, I’ll bring one to you,’ he says by way of explanation, pouring wine into my mug before filling his. ‘Sorry about the presentation. Mugs are all we have around here and I hoped you wouldn’t mind too much.’
‘I… I’m meant to be driving home,’ I stammer.
‘We can just have one if you want.’ He grabs a couple of fold-out chairs that have been stuffed away in the corner by the door for someone to move but never have been. ‘Or you can leave your car here and we’ll call you a taxi later.’ He hesitates. ‘Unless you have other plans tonight?’
‘No plans,’ I admit.
‘Then, if you’d like to,’ he gestures to one of the chairs, ‘please join me for a drink.’
I stare at him.
‘If you’d like,’ he repeats, his confidence starting to wobble at my reaction. ‘No pressure. If you want to go home, then of course, you don’t have to hang around here with me. It’s been a long day, you’ve worked hard, I thought…’
He trails off as I smile, finding his panic endearing.
‘No, I want to,’ I assure him as his shoulders relax. ‘I wasn’t expecting this, but thank you. It’s very sweet and thoughtful of you.’
‘Sometimes, I can be both those things.’
He waits until I sit down before he does, and we knock our mugs together before having a drink. It’s expensive wine, chilled and crisp, and goes down nicely. Suddenly feeling nervous, I self-consciously brush my hand over my top and jodhpurs.
‘Are you okay?’ he asks.
‘I wish I wasn’t wearing clothes covered in horse hair, but yeah, I’m fine.’
He pinches a horse hair from his own top between his thumb and forefinger and lets it drop to the ground with a shrug. ‘We match.’
I grin, taking another sip of wine. He takes a gulp of his, before looking around the stables silently, the heel of his right boot tapping from the way his leg is shaking.
Is he nervous, too?
‘How are you feeling about the Queen’s Cup at Guards?’ I ask.
His leg stops. ‘Good. Ready. I want to face DQ and beat them.’
I tilt my head at him. ‘DQ or Basilio?’
‘Both. Mostly Basilio. If he wins the Queen’s Cup, he’ll be unbearable. He won last year, too.’
‘Was he playing on the DQ team then?’
Mateo nods. ‘Like everyone, he’s switched teams a lot over the years, but he did well with DQ last season and it looks like they’re on another winning streak.’
‘It won’t last,’ I tell him, sounding more confident than I feel. ‘It never does.’
‘Hopefully, our luck will kick in soon.’
‘It’s nothing to do with luck. You and the boys are playing much better together nowandyou have your secret weapon.’ I gesture at the stall behind me. ‘Serafina.’
‘If she does what I tell her.’
‘And if you trust her instincts in return,’ I add, shooting him a look.
