Hollywood to Horses

Excerpt

Hollywood to Horses
Dez Schwartz © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One

Mateo Harris and his black Belgian warmblood soared over a post-and-plank obstacle, then galloped in a curve to face two gates in proximity. They leapt over both with swift ease. The final stretch sent them gliding over the triple bars as they completed the course in a flawless fashion.

Mateo’s students applauded from the fence where they each sat astride their own horses, the eagerness for a chance to try the course themselves apparent.

The solid thud beneath Mateo’s riding boots reverberated through him, a satisfying crescendo indicating the finale of his performance. He believed a rider should never consider themselves finished showing until they were no longer on horseback. Although he hated to admit to himself, the ache in his right knee also grounded him in the truth—injury and age.

Defying reality, and because of his inherent showmanship, Mateo pivoted his athletic body in one graceful movement to face his pupils.

“And that’s how you win an Olympic gold medal in show jumping,” he announced. “Any questions?”

His students applauded, and he grabbed the reigns to lead his horse out of the arena.

“Why can’t you still win them?” a snide voice rang out. “Maybe you could teach us how to not fall off our horses.” The comment, which referenced an injury he sustained at his last Olympic competition, came from a tall blonde girl, Payton Parker, who Mateo found irritating on any given day; this one especially.

Most of the students appeared to hold their breath after the bold insult as if all the oxygen of the pleasant Virginian afternoon had been depleted. Their wide eyes showed they’d never dream of saying such a thing to someone so well regarded. Known for his equestrian accomplishments in the city of Sweetspire, the waitlist to get into H&H Riding Academy—the school Mateo and his cousin, Emily Hall, ran together—was as long as his list of accolades.

A few uncontrolled giggles cropped up, and Payton smirked at him to show she found the power-play to her peers worth any repercussion.

Mateo pursed his lips and produced a warning smile as he approached Payton, taking his time to remove his black riding gloves finger by finger.

He addressed her but did so loud enough so the entire class would be sure to hear him. “Your parents pay me excessive amounts of inherited money to turn entitled leeches like yourself into professional equestrians. As if any amount of funding could ever supply you with the aptitude you so obviously, and painfully, lack. You’ll be lucky to ever win so much as a participation trophy awarded for anything other than nepotism. You’re hereby dismissed from this class, Payton. In fact, because I’m feeling particularly plucky today, you are expelled. Good day, Miss Parker. I’ll expect a call from your parents as soon as the nanny reminds them they have children.”

The same student giggles returned, this time siding with Mateo and proving to be as good as a slap in the face for Payton. Fuming, she coaxed her Hanoverian toward the exit of the outdoor arena. She shouted over her shoulder as she left. “There are other riding academies, you know! I’ll go to Wright Stables! I don’t need you to win a blue ribbon!”

“I agree. You need talent!”

Nothing made him see red faster than mention of Wright Stables, his only real local competitor.

He chided himself for being drawn into an immature argument with a spoiled teenager and moved to get his class back on task.

“If anyone else would like to be expelled today, please, negligently criticize me. Otherwise, run your courses!”

Mateo waved them off, and they rushed to begin taking turns practicing the paces.

He led his prized horse, Top Shelf, back to the stables and handed him off to a stable hand. Once out of the long corridor on the other side of the luxury barn, Mateo reached inside his navy-blue riding blazer, grabbed his flask, and threw back a swig of French vodka.

He took a deep breath of the balmy late afternoon air, letting the heat of the drink warm his chest and relax him.

He spotted Cameron Myers leaning on the fencing of a corral where he had a student practicing dressage basics. The lines from Cameron’s dancer’s muscles showed through his thin white shirt whenever he leaned forward on the railing, and he combed his fingers through his wavy chestnut hair as he shouted out instructions to the student for improvement. Cameron clapped his approval when the student followed his recommendation to the letter.

He’s a much nicer instructor than I could ever be. It’s a good thing I hired him, or my student body might be severely lacking in numbers.

Cameron raised an eyebrow once he turned to Mateo. “Little early for that, don’t you think?”

Mateo found his youthful naivety charming and smiled. “Just a light afternoon snack.”

The corners of Cameron’s eyes crinkled sympathetically. “Tough day?”

“I teach overly indulged teenage millionaires how to make an animal jump over brightly colored poles for a living.” He took another drink at the thought. “Every day is tough.”

Cameron chuckled and turned his attention back to his own student. “You know you love every minute of it.”

Mateo grinned, putting the flask away. “No, you love it. I just have an affinity for collecting dead presidents.”

“You know I don’t believe that for a second.” Cameron signaled to the young rider to start their routine over. “I wouldn’t be here if that were true.”

Appreciative of his candidness, Mateo patted Cameron’s shoulder.

Cameron was twenty-four, a full sixteen years younger than himself, and an eternal optimist. He also happened to be an equestrian with incredible talent who might have never had a chance at his dreams due to his equally incredibly average background.

Cameron had come to H&H Riding Academy as a teenager seeking a part-time job mucking stalls and doing general maintenance. His gentle demeanor won Mateo over in a short time and, as it turned out, the horses as well. Cameron had a natural talent and passion for working with them. Mateo saw a reflection of his younger self in Cameron (minus the jaded attitude) and decided to test his potential. He took him under his wing, learned of his secret love of dance and music, and let him join a dressage class. Within a year, Mateo promoted him to be a trainer, and Cameron excelled to become the academy’s top dressage trainer and instructor. An opportunity that never would have been afforded to him elsewhere, and the experience didn’t cost him a dime. In fact, he’d earned a living instead.

“You still hold the title of our best student,” Mateo said.

“Funny. I don’t remember seeing that plaque on the award wall,” Cameron teased, referencing the west wall of the luxury stables that served as an altar to all Mateo’s accomplishments.

Mateo smirked. “I’ll be sure to fix that.”

They applauded when the student finished the rest of his dressage routine. The boy gave a proud nod of thanks before exiting the corral.

“You looked great out there! Just watch your drifting,” Cameron called to him. “Have a great weekend, and I’ll see you on Monday!”

The boy waved and trotted his white Friesian back to the stables.

“You’re an excellent instructor, and I still insist you’d be one hell of a showman if you’d ever give competitions a try,” Mateo said.

“Not this old record again.” Cameron chuckled and mimed a spinning motion with his hand. “We both know I’m not really welcome in that world.”

“Sometimes you have to crash the party,” Mateo encouraged. “That’s what I did.”

“Yeah, but you’re Mateo Harris. One of the greatest living Olympic equestrians.”

“You vying for a raise, kid?” Mateo side-eyed him. “And I wasn’t when I started. You have to start first.”

Cameron laughed. “What I mean is… You’re outgoing. I prefer the behind-the-scenes life.”

Mateo reached for his flask and took another drink of vodka before tucking the silver canister away again. “Shame. You have a face the paparazzi would love.”

Cameron’s smile disappeared. “Oh, damn! That reminds me. I’m so sorry. Emily showed up around an hour ago and asked me to tell you she’d wait for you at your house. She knows you don’t have your phone on during lessons. I meant to get you right away, but the vet showed up, and then this session started, and it slipped my mind. I’m so sorry!”

They walked in the direction of Mateo’s home, located just up a dirt road north of the academy. Mateo had a golf cart parked nearby, which he drove to and from work each day. He quite liked the convenience because he rarely had to leave his own property, which meant he’d never be guilty of breaking any drinking and driving laws.

“No need to apologize,” Mateo consoled Cameron, who followed along behind him on his way to help supervise closing the stables for the evening. “Most likely she has paperwork for me to do so I don’t mind making her wait. Unless… Was it an emergency of some sort?”

“I don’t think so,” Cameron said. “She was smirking. I don’t think people smirk too much during emergencies.”

Mateo sighed. “It’s worse then. She’s plotting.”

“She said something about a party at Wright Stables and that Christopher Wright would be there.”

Mateo stopped dead in his tracks. Considering the old billionaire Christopher Wright had just passed away earlier in the month, Cameron could only mean Christopher Wright II.

“He’s a movie star, you know. He won an Academy Award for that biopic about the guy who invented laser tag.” Cameron seemed giddy. Obviously a fan.

“I know who he is,” Mateo snapped.

“Sorry,” Cameron corrected his tone. “Of course, you do. Everyone does.”

They’d reached the point where their paths split. Mateo waved him off and stomped the rest of the way to his golf cart, downing every drop of vodka he could get out of his flask on the way.

When he arrived inside his contemporary two-story luxury home, he found—as per usual—his cousin and academy co-owner, Emily Hall, had made herself at home while she waited. She had rosé within reach and had propped herself up by the designer throw pillows on his black leather couch as she worked on her laptop.

“Heels off. You’ll scratch the leather,” Mateo commanded. He tapped her Miu Mius, shooing them off the sofa, and plopped down next her.

She put both feet back on the ground and sat up straight to face him with a giant smile. “Heels are down, and I’ve received my regular reminder of why you lack a love life.”

“I have a love life.” Mateo huffed. A quiet, conceding huff. “I just keep it off the couch.”

She placated him with a big, wide blue-eyed nod that noted she didn’t believe he had a love life, but she’d continue to play along if he wanted.

“What are you blogging about now?”

“I’m not blogging,” Emily said. “I’m bookkeeping. And it’s a good thing too, because if I let you be in charge of the books, we’d be financially devastated. Ten thousand dollars for a saddle? Please tell me that’s a miscalculation.”

“It’s a new Gucci design. I couldn’t pass it up.”

“Well, the design must have been brilliant.”

“It’s a pattern of their logo.”

“You know, we could hire someone else to do this.” Emily reminded him of this fact near the end of every tax quarter.

“And funnel our hard-earned money to an outsider?” Mateo frowned. “No, thanks.”

“Right.” Emily repeated the words she’d heard so many times before. “Keep it in the family.”

“The key to how the riche stay riche,” he insisted, putting on an exaggerated accent.

“That and taking advantage of the underprivileged,” she reminded him.

A surge of pride soared through him. He’d taught her so well.

“Bite your tongue, Ms. Hall. They might revoke your East Coast WASP card.” After shifting sideways, he leaned his arm on the back of the couch and rested his cheek on his fist.

“Why is Christopher here?”

Emily beamed and shut her computer. She set the laptop on the coffee table and replaced it with her wine glass. “So, Cameron spilled the details?”

“Uh, this is Cameron the resident conversationalist spaz you’re talking about, so no. The details were a bit muddled betwixt apologies and fanboy giddiness. Your hair looks nice in a bun, by the way. You should put it up like that more often.”

“Thank you, coz!” She dipped her chin to her shoulder feigning flattered embarrassment and took a short sip from her wine glass.

He couldn’t help but smirk at how similar they could be. Emily had always been more like a sister than a cousin to Mateo and, most certainly, his best friend. Upon meeting them, most people assumed they were a couple since, despite family ties, they bore no resemblance. Mateo’s father was Emily’s mother’s brother but while Emily’s mother had chosen to marry into their very white Virginian social circle, Mateo’s father had married a beautiful Chilean woman he’d met in college. Mateo and Emily had been fortunate enough to grow up together with families who were so close they’d spent pretty much every day together from childhood to now. Their aligned attitudes and interests were what inspired them to go into business together, and he couldn’t imagine running H&H Riding Academy without her. He’d have to give up one of the H’s, after all, which would be certain to equal more paperwork. Thankful he’d never have to consider a change, he also suspected he would need as much moral support as could be mustered.

“He’s here for the party,” Emily revealed.

“Christopher is not here for a party,” Mateo corrected. He took the drink from her hand and helped himself. He puckered, smacking his lips at the taste, and she swiped the glass back.

“Well, that’s the rumor,” she said.

“Christopher may be at the party, but if he wanted to make an evening spectacle of himself, it’d be at one of his Hollywood shindigs schmoozing self-righteous directors and actresses with loose morals and even looser garments.”

Her smile widened with every dig and she gave him a pointed stare. “Ooh, I see that grudge is well nurtured. And since when do you care about morals?”

“Like most judgmental people, when the situation behooves me. No, I bet Christopher is here because something is planned to take place at that party, and I daresay I haven’t heard worse news all week.” He let himself fall back on the couch for dramatic effect and stared up at the vaulted ceiling beams, whose excessive height he thought unnecessary.

Emily laughed. “You hate with such charm. Do you know that?”

“The better to keep you on my side.”

“Your side?” Emily sounded perplexed. “Do you honestly think I’d shift my loyalties to the Wrights? You’re family.”

“Yes, but you’re a divorcée, and according to Radar Online, Christopher’s a recent divorcé. He’s incredibly—obnoxiously—handsome, and he’s heir to the entire Wright fortune. You can see my concern.”

“I can see your jealously and that you’ve watched too many Hallmark movies this year.” Her eyes sparkled with intrigue. “So, you admit you think he’s handsome?”

Mateo sighed. “They’re going to make an announcement at that party. Believe me. An ominous decree of doom shall befall us.”

“Shall we go shopping for party outfits tonight then?” Emily offered, mimicking his dramatic flair. She pulled him up off the couch.

“We shall!” Mateo agreed with exaggerated cheerfulness.