“That sounds like a worthwhile mission,” Claire said, “but I don’t have the time or money to start my own catering company.” Why wouldn’t this woman stop pushing?
“I understand your concerns, but I’m sure you can work something out. You don’t have to do it all at once. Why don’t we get together after the polo match and I can walk you through some of the options. Your food is so good. I just know you’d be a huge success.”
Sensing the woman wouldn’t drop it, Claire managed a vague smile and a half-hearted nod. This encounter with Everly reinforced for Claire why she had no interest in starting a catering business. Too often, she struggled to assert herself. As a kid, she’d never learned to stand and fight. It was always easier to run away.
Fortunately for Claire, as the two women ate, she was able to turn the tables on Everly and persuade her to talk about her own background. Claire wasn’t surprised that, although Everly spoke about growing up in Charleston, she never mentioned her sister who’d been imprisoned for stealing.
When lunch was over, Everly snagged the check as soon as the waitress set it down and slid her credit card into the holder, ignoring Claire’s protest.
“My treat,” the blonde said. “You are saving us from a disaster. The least I could do is buy you lunch. Besides, I suggested eating here and I know it’s a little expensive.”
“Thank you,” Claire replied, deciding against letting the subtle jab get to her.
Still, no matter how much Everly complimented her talents as a chef, the Charlestonian would always view Claire as “the help.” It was this prejudicial view that Linc couldn’t seem to understand or refused to acknowledge despite growing up in this town.
No matter how successful or rich she became, as far as everyone who mattered was concerned, Claire would never be good enough for Linc. Although it put an ache in her heart, she’d accepted it. If only he would as well. Because if he didn’t, his faith in them as a couple was going to tear them apart sooner rather than later.
* * *
Claire stood beside Linc and marveled as the mass of horses and riders charged from one end of the field to the other in pursuit of a small white ball. The thunder of the hooves on the grass made her heart pound. She hadn’t been prepared for the adrenaline rush of watching the nonstop action of a polo match.
It was the second match of the day. She’d been occupied getting the luncheon baskets ready and missed the first. For some reason, she’d assumed polo was like other sports where it would take hours to play the game. Today, she’d discovered that the match was composed of six chukkers—or periods—lasting seven and a half minutes each, with a ten-minute halftime during which the spectators went out onto the field for the traditional divot stomp.
“What do you think?” Linc asked.
Flushed with enthusiasm, she glanced away from the field, noting that several of the ladies dressed in party frocks with adorable hats festooned with ribbons and flowers were paying more attention to her and Linc than the match.
“The spectators appear so civilized,” she said, grinning up at him. “While the polo riders are intense and a little crazy.”
The sport wasn’t for the fainthearted. Four horses from each team galloped down the field, bumping and jockeying for position while their riders swung four-foot mallets. It was a wonder no one was seriously hurt.
A cry went up from the crowd as Sawyer’s friend Ruby scored yet again for the women. This particular match was a battle of the sexes, and at the moment, the women were kicking butt.
“How come you don’t play?” Claire asked Linc. She’d noticed that several of his friends were on teams today.
Linc shook his head. “I like to keep both my feet on the ground when I’m chasing little white balls.”
“Have you tried it?”
“Once. It didn’t go well.” Linc’s grin was rueful. “Do you ride? I’m sure Ruby would be happy to give you some lessons in how to play.”
Although Claire had never been on a horse, she could imagine how empowering it would feel to charge down the field in pursuit of the ball at speeds of thirty to forty miles an hour. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“It must take years to learn to ride well enough to do this.”
“You wouldn’t play at this level to start off. I’m sure there are plenty of people who are beginners that you could team up with.”
Though intrigued, Claire shook her head. She didn’t have the time or the money to spend on something like polo.
“Linc, there you are.” It was Landry Beaumont, yet another stunning woman with her sights set on Linc. “Where did you disappear to after lunch? It’s nearly halftime. Come meet my brother. He’s on Austin’s team. We can harass them about losing to a bunch of girls.”
While Linc was distracted by Landry, Claire faded from his side, fighting the dismay swelling in her chest. What had she expected? She’d known from the first that anything between her and Linc was temporary at best.
And from what she’d gleaned after Bettina’s party, it sounded like everyone was rooting for a relationship to develop between Linc and Landry. With her family connections, beauty and interests, she was being touted as the perfect girl for him.
Done with her work, Claire headed for the exit, her foolish heart aching. Unfortunately, her escape was thwarted by Everly Briggs.
“There you are,” Everly said. Today, she wore a filmy floral dress in various warm pastel shades, a broad-brimmed hat festooned with poppies, and dark glasses. “You’re not leaving already, are you?”
Feeling shabby beside the socialite, Claire nodded. “It’s been a long day and I should be getting
