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  Chapter Three

  One Kiss, Two Kiss, Red Kiss, Blue Kiss

  Remi laid everything out for Julien as clearly and concisely as she could. His parents had just dropped ten million dollars on yearlings. Her parents suddenly had ten million dollars to blow on a five-hundred-acre second farm. Her father had changed the banking passwords and hadn’t given her a good explanation why. If that wasn’t damning enough, the private feud between the Capital Hills Brites and the Arden Farm Montgomerys had gone public this year, and it was the only story the racing press cared about. At the end of October, a Verona Downs Stakes race would take place. Six horses were entered. Shenanigans and Hijinks were the favorites. The feud and the Stakes race had even made the cover of Sports Illustrated. And creepy Tyson Balt had been at her parents’ house and no one would talk about it.

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Julien agreed. “I don’t know much about the farm, but I do know last winter Dad said they’d budgeted for four million for yearlings.”

  “I triple-checked. They bought twenty-two yearlings for five million and then bought a four broodmares and four stallions—ten million total. And my parents paid cash for the farm—no mortgage. And for four years our little feud has been just between our families—and anyone who was at the Christmas party at the Rails that night. Now it’s all over the news.”

  “Did the article mention us specifically?” Julien asked.

  “No, thank God,” she said. “Although it’s only a matter of time before the story comes out. The article just quotes a rumor that the feud started as a lovers’ quarrel.”

  “They can’t call it a lovers’ quarrel if the two lovers didn’t get to be lovers.”

  Remi grimaced. “Better than saying the twenty-two-year-old manager of Arden Farms seduced the Brites’ youngest son who was in high school.”

  “I have a very old soul,” he said.

  Remi laughed and buried her face in her hands. Between her fingers she peeked at him.

  “And my very old soul had a massive erection that night.”

  “You’re not making this any easier,” she told him, lowering her hands.

  “Can’t help it. I’d rather talk about us than whatever our parents are into.”

  “Us?”

  “Well...you know. What happened between us, I mean.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I should have said that a long time ago.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I’m not.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. I was worried you might be pissed I just showed up at your door almost four years later asking for help.”

  “I’ll help you any way I can, Remi. It’s just...it’s really good to see you again.”

  Remi felt the heat return to her face. “You too, Julien.”

  They stared at each other until the silence grew heavy and awkward.

  “Anyway,” she said and wrenched her eyes away from him. “I am sorry to be the bearer of this shitty news.”

  “It’s okay, I promise. I wish I could help you. I’m happy to dig around a little if I can, talk to my sisters, see if they think something weird is going on. If my parents are doing something unethical, I’d rather find out from you than from the newspapers.”

  “Thank you. I hate to ask you to spy on your own family.”

  “I haven’t exactly been thrilled with my parents recently, either.” Julien pulled his knee to his chest and wrapped his arm around his shin—the same arms that had once been wrapped around her.

  “You moved across the ocean. That’s not a great sign.”

  “They were asking for it,” Julien said. “Two years ago when you got your promotion to farm manager, Mom said it was nepotism at its worst, that no way were you qualified to run Arden and the place would fall apart in a week. Then Arden had its best season ever. After that Mom said it was unladylike for a woman to run a horse farm. Then there were the rants about how disgusting and disgraceful it was you had an ‘attractive male assistant’ you were obviously sleeping with. That’s when Salena and I started packing.”

  “You moved out just because your mom thinks Merrick and I are sleeping together?” Remi asked, astounded. “Everyone thinks Merrick and I are sleeping together except for Merrick and me.”

  “My issues with my parents are yet another really long story. Let’s just say it was the last straw. Salena suggested we sublet a place in France for a few months. She used to live in Paris and knew I’d like it. I’m starting college again in January, so I told my parents I was getting a little place in Paris until I started school.”

  “Not so little,” she said, glancing around what she hoped was a two-bedroom apartment. He said Salena wasn’t his girlfriend, so she guessed that meant she wasn’t sleeping with him. “Although I can’t imagine your parents or your sisters living in a third-floor walk-up garret apartment. No offense.”

  “None taken,” Julien said, clearly finding the idea as amusing as she did. “But, for all its downsides, this place has one very big upside.”

  “It is very pretty,” she said.

  “And it has an amazing view.” Julien turned around and opened the curtain behind him that had shielded the window.

  “Holy...” Remi rose out of her seat and walked to the window. Julien moved to the side and Remi sat next to him on the bench.

  Through a gap in the buildings she could see the top of the Eiffel Tower in all its illuminated nighttime glory. She stared at it in silence and sensed Julien’s eyes on her, not the tower in the distance. Four years evaporated in an instant. Four years ago they were talking by the fireplace and now a window overlooking Paris. Four years come and gone in an instant.

  “I used to dream about living in Paris,” she said after a long pause. She couldn’t quite believe that she was here in Paris with Julien Brite gazing at the Eiffel Tower. It was perfect—the autumn air of the city pressing against the window, the lights dancing on the tower, Julien at her side looking at her and nothing else. Not just perfect but a perfect moment—why did she keep having these with him? “When I was a little girl. Too many Madeline books, I guess.”

  “Who?”

  “It’s a girl thing.” Remi gazed at the top of the tower, wondering what the city looked like from the top. Maybe she would see it before they left. Maybe Julien could take her there tomorrow.

  “What did you dream about?” Julien asked. He kept his voice low, as if the entire city were trying to listen in but he wanted to keep their conversation between only them.

  “Oh, the usual kid dreams. Living in Paris, speaking French, eating croissants all the time.”

  “They are pretty amazing here,” Julien agreed.

  “Then I got older, and I still dreamed of Paris. When I was a teenager it seemed like the most romantic place in the world. I wanted to get my first kiss in Paris. Which, sadly, did not happen.”

  “Where did you get your first kiss?”

  “In the Kentucky Theater in Lexington. Not nearly as romantic as Paris. You?”

  “Um...the Capitol building, actually. School field trip. Some girl in my class thought it would be rebellious to make out in the Capitol Rotunda. The statue of Abraham Lincoln was watching us. Not romantic. A first kiss in Paris with the Eiffel Tower watching us would have been much better.”

  “Definitely,” she said, smiling. When she turned her eyes back to Julien, she found him still looking at her. He wasn’t smiling, but the look on his face was better than a smile.

  “Can I tell you something crazy?” she asked.

  “Please. The crazier the better.”

  “I look for you at every race,” she confessed. “Kentucky. California. New York. Florida. Doesn’t matter what the race is, what track we’re at, I always look for your face in the crowd, in the clubhouse, in the stands. You’d think after all this time I would quit looking for you. Is that crazy?”

  He shook his head. “Not as crazy as me writing you letters that I’ve never worked up the courage to send.”

  “L