Loosening Up Bk. 10 Ch. 21-25

Chapter 21 - Kentucky

Google will tell you that using the Interstate highways it should take just under two hours to get from Hamilton, Ohio, to Lexington, Kentucky. Dave took the back roads and made lots of stops. At three-thirty in the afternoon, he still hadn't quite reached Lexington, and he'd been on the road since eight that morning after leaving Martin and Sasha's home. It was Monday morning.

Dave stopped beside a beautiful farm surrounded by various paddocks, each outlined with a bright white painted fence to separate various horses from one another. On the flats to his immediate left was a race track that Dave figured was about a mile around. On the track, a jockey occasionally rode one of the Arabian horses at full throttle. Occasionally, they'd start with a second horse and rider, but the jockey's horse would quickly outdistance the planned competition. When the race horse would start, Dave noted that the horses in the other sectors of the farm would watch, almost as if they were sizing up their competition.

In the distance, up a rolling slope was a majestic mansion of a home. Dave guessed the place might be ten- or twelve-thousand square feet, and the type of place to have fifteen guest rooms and as many baths. He could even see a tennis court on the right side of the home and a wind sock for the helipad about a hundred yards from the house.

Dave sat on the white fence near the road and watched the race horse make another circuit, the third in an hour. He didn't time the horse, but it couldn't have taken it more than a couple of minutes to run the circuit as the jockey whipped the flanks to urge him on. At his end of the track, he could even hear the jockey yelling to the horse to go faster.

Dave's motorcycle, the 1988 Harley Davidson Heritage Softail, was parked immediately behind him on a patch of hard packed dirt where it wouldn't tip over, like it might with the kick stand in soft loam. All his traveling gear was piled on the bike, and held on with about twenty bungee cords. Dave chuckled; he never packed the bike the same way twice.

One of the Arabians in the paddock right in front of Dave trotted nearby and looked at him on the fence. He knew he should probably leave, and the horse clearly knew he didn't belong. The horse whinnied at him, and then trotted away to the shade of a large maple tree.

A jeep pulled up behind his motorcycle, stopped, and the motor shut off. A woman in tight, white jodhpurs and tall riding boots got out of the small car. She wore a white blouse with a small necktie, and a grey riding jacket despite the warm temperatures. She had a rosy glow about her as though she'd been exercising.

She challenged him, "Excuse me. What is your interest in our horses?" Her tone verged on angry.

Dave nodded at the woman, "I think they're the most beautiful creatures on earth, present company excluded, of course."

"What are you doing?" The slightly nasty tone continued.

"Watching them. I was riding along and saw the jockey exercising the Arabian, so I stopped to watch. I got enthralled with the whole scene in front of me - the race training, the other horses, the beauty of your farm, ... everything. I did take a picture of the farm, but just to jog my memory when I get home. I apologize if I did something wrong."

The young woman gestured to the bike, "You're from Florida?" She'd seen his license plate. Her accent and demeanor gave her a snooty rating in Dave's mind.

"On a long trip around the country - a vacation of sorts. I'm not a horse person."

"Were you timing our laps?" she challenged.

"No, but I could guess that they were fast, especially when they started with the second horse."

"I was riding the other horse trying to spur Gold Granite on to new records for us." Her voice continued the 'in your face' attitude.

The woman challenged, "Where were you before you stopped here"

"I left a friend's home in Hamilton, Ohio, this morning, and have been poking along enjoying the scenery and Kentucky horse country. Your farm is the prettiest of all of them."

"It's my father's, but he's in Europe for the week. He has more money than God, and horse racing is his big hobby. He owns a record label - a very popular one. He flew over in his own plane."

Dave could tell she was trying to impress him. He chuckled to himself and thought, well two can play that game.

"Oh, I fly, too. I ran a company that made batteries for the last seven years until I decided to take this vacation."

"You fly little Cessna planes?" she asked in her snooty tone.

"I don't know what you consider little. My plane can comfortably carry fourteen, including me and the copilot, at 40,000 feet at Mach .85. I like to fly it myself, but I'll have to recertify in the jet when I get home because I will have been away so long. A friend that's rated in the jet flew it up with another friend that rode part way along my journey with me before she flew back home."

The woman settled back. She'd been matched and upped, and knew anadolu yakası escort it. The corners of her mouth turned up.

"Are you in some motorcycle club or something?" Her voice had softened.

"Nope. Just me. I normally live in a gated community in Florida, so this trip is a bit of a lark. I'm trying to eventually get to every state in the lower forty-eight. I'm not a Hell's Angel, or whatever you might be thinking. I was a business executive. You could even look me up on the Internet." He passed her one of his business cards, still valid because of his past connection and board duties for EneRG.

"David Prentiss, huh?" She pulled her cellphone from her pocket and poked in some question. As she read the results, her eyes got large.

"Oh. OH! Oh, dear. I'm so sorry for confronting you. We don't want our race competition to know how well Gold Granite is running. He wasn't ready for the Derby, so we had another entry, but she didn't do all that well. Granite could win the roses next year with the times we just clocked today."

Dave knew she was talking about the Kentucky Derby - The Run for the Roses.

"I can understand your concern. I'm sorry for raising your dander. I should move along anyway. I was going to find a campground for the night."

"OH, NO!" the woman looked horrified. "You should stay with us. Please accept our hospitality, and excuse my brashness and inhospitable challenge to you when I stopped you. I kind of thought you might be a spy from one of the other stables. I'd really like your company."

Dave looked up at the home, "Up there?"

She nodded and broke into a sparkling smile.

"I certainly would like to see the home. What is it, about twelve-thousand square feet?"

"Fourteen, actually. Please come. Dinner, too. I'm afraid it's just me and the help, but I'd love to make up my brash attitude to you."

"You weren't THAT nasty, but I do want to see you home. It looks beautiful. I'm afraid I'm a little dusty from poking along all day. I have nothing formal to wear, just some very wrinkled Dockers and more casual shoes."

"We have a shower for you - of course. Dress is very informal unless my father is around, and even then, it only ratchets up a notch. He doesn't like to wear ties at home."

"Errr, you know I'm Dave Prentiss, but I haven't heard your name, I'm afraid."

"Oh, dear. My manners are slipping left and right. I'm Carli Winston. Welcome to Winston Farms."

"Dave made polite protestations about being a burden, but could see that his novelty had great appeal to Carli. Since she hadn't identified him yet as connected with the TV show or the Circle, the real novelty about him had yet to appear.

Dave followed Carli in her jeep up to the large house. She suggested that he park his motorcycle in an empty slot in the six-car garage and only bring in his essential items. Dave was assigned a second-floor guest room after a short house tour. His room was large, had a small annex as a sitting room, as well as an ensuite bath that was gorgeously decorated. Dave was aware of a maid and butler in the downstairs areas.

Dave did shower and shave, and changed into his 'casual' clothes. He was glad to have left Martin and Sasha's home having washed everything he had. He looked neater certainly than he would have if he'd had to visit from a nearby campground.

Dave was met at the bottom of the stairway by a young man who was obviously the butler. He enquired about Dave's preference in a drink, and then directed into a living room that looked out over the horse farm. That was where Dave was looking out the front windows when Carli stepped into the room a few minutes later. She carried his wine cooler as well as a glass of Chardonnay for herself. She wore a monotone knee-length skirt and a colorful top, and modest heels; she looked rich and adorable.

"You are a modest man, David Prentiss," she announced as she passed his wine to him.

He gave her a questioning look.

"I asked one of my assistants to do a run-up on you while I cleaned up from riding. She didn't have enough time to tell me everything about you, but I got about seven minutes as she rapidly told me about you."

Dave smiled, "My life does seem to be an open book."

"I'm embarrassed that I've never seen The Circle television show, nor have I read the book that you are featured in. I learned you have ten wives, but live in open marriages with them and live in a community - The Circle - where you and everyone enjoys conjugal relationships with everyone else. You helped start and run what became EneRG - the multi-billion-dollar-a-year company that makes those innovative batteries, and you profited greatly when the company went public along with your billionaire friends. We own stock in your company. I guess that was when you bought your corporate jet. YOU are quite a man!" She smiled and tipped her drink in his direction.

"I just took one day at a time and made a couple of astute atalar escort decisions here and there." Dave bowed to her.

"Nonsense. The Fortune magazine article about you, I'm told, said you were one of the most astute business leaders in the world. They rarely praise any CEO like that, and here I find you sitting on my fence idly watching our horses. Again, my apologies for my brashness earlier."

"Apology accepted and not needed. I was the trespasser. I'm also afraid I didn't have an assistant do a precis on Carli Winston. Could you fill me in?"

Carli laughed. "I'm the brat. I'm thirty-five, a bit of a playgirl after a marriage that lasted six months and failed about six years ago. Mummy and Daddy suggested I move home and manage the horses, and I did, but I also run an executive head-hunting agency that I hope to rival Egon Zehnder and Heidrick