Chapter 8

"Isn't he hot? Isn't he hot?" Luna was practically shaking Maeve's arm off.

"He's okay, I guess," Maeve replied.

"Okay? Girl, are you blind or what?"

"Luna," Maeve said, pulling Luna's hand off her arm. "Did you come to this team-building to find a boyfriend or what?"

"Why not do both?" Luna grinned. "And he's single. I checked. Thirty-three, studied law in Phugow, worked at a top law firm for four years before coming back. His family's in the pharmaceutical business, I heard."

"Are you running a background check on him or what?" Maeve teased.

"Hey, gotta do my homework!" Luna shot back.

Maeve shook her head, not bothering to argue. She leaned back in her chair, legs crossed, sipping her lemonade.

But her eyes still drifted over to the riding arena.

The man swung himself onto the horse in one smooth, practiced motion, his posture perfectly straight. The chestnut warmblood, usually wild and fidgety with anyone else, settled down within seconds under his control.

"Whoa," Luna gasped. "That riding that's gotta be professional level, right?"

Maeve looked away. "None of your business."

"Maeve, you're so cold," Luna complained.

Half an hour later, the instructor split everyone into groups for the activity.

Maeve ended up in the third group.

She'd never been on a horse in her life. She stood by the fence, watching until the instructor waved her over.

"Hey, want to give it a shot? This one's super gentle," the instructor said.

It was a dappled gray mare, not too big, and really gentle. Maeve's legs felt a little shaky as she climbed onto the saddle.

"Relax, squeeze your thighs, and don't pull the reins too tight—" the instructor said.

But before he could finish, a horse nearby suddenly freaked out. Someone had popped a balloon behind them. There was a loud bang, and both horses jumped.

The startled horse reared up and let out a shrill whinny, and Maeve's horse got agitated too, stomping its hooves and nervously circling in place.

Maeve lurched forward, her fingers clutching the front of the saddle for dear life.

"Instructor—" she called out.

But before she could finish, the horse suddenly lunged forward. It wasn't a full-blown bolt, but for a newbie, it was enough to send her into a panic. Her balance shifted, and she started to slide off to the right.

'I'm screwed,' Maeve thought. That was the only thing that flashed through her mind.

Suddenly, someone reached out and grabbed the reins.

It was a firm, steady grip. Just like that, the horse stopped dead.

Maeve was still half-sliding off the horse, her knuckles white from gripping the saddle.

"It's okay." A voice came from her right. His voice was deep and steady.

Maeve turned her head.

It was the guy from legal.

He was riding that chestnut horse, right next to her gray mare. His left hand held his own reins, while his right was still gripping hers, the same hand that had reached over and stopped her horse just now.

The two horses were so close, Maeve could feel his presence right beside her.

She caught a subtle hint of pine on him.

"Let go," he said.

Maeve froze for a second.

"Just grab the handle. Let go, and I'll help you sit up straight," the guy said.

Maeve realized she was still off-balance. She hesitated for a moment, then let go with her right hand.

The guy caught her by the waist, his touch steady as he guided her back upright.

The whole thing took less than three seconds.

His hand let go right after.

"You good?" he asked.

Maeve straightened up and took a deep breath, her heart thundering in her chest. She wasn't sure if it was from the adrenaline or something else entirely.

"Well yeah, I'm good. Thanks," she managed.

The guy gave a small nod, and his chestnut horse shifted beneath him, turning away.

"First time on a horse? Don't let go of the reins. These guys spook easily," he said over his shoulder as he nudged his horse into a trot.

Maeve sat there, staring at the guy's back for a few seconds.

The instructor rushed over, panting. "You alright? That balloon. I told them not to do that."

"I'm fine," Maeve said, rubbing her face to steady herself. "Let's keep going."

At lunch, the club had set up long tables out on the lawn for the buffet, with a few round tables scattered around for seating.

Maeve was carrying her plate, scanning for a spot, when Luna zipped over and pulled her toward a half-empty round table.

"Come sit here," Luna said.

Maeve sat down and looked up.

The guy from legal was sitting right across from her.

He had a cup of black coffee in one hand, his eyes fixed on his phone.

Luna was grinning like a cat who'd just stolen a fish. Maeve shot her a look.

"Maeve, let me introduce you." Luna suddenly raised her voice. "This is the new director of Legal, Mr. Damon Morris."

Damon looked up. From this close, Maeve could really see his face. He had attractive eyes and a strong nose. He wasn't like Victor, whose features were sharp and striking.

This guy was more understated, with a subtle curve at the corners of his mouth that made him look like he was always smiling, even when he wasn't.

His gaze was calm, with nothing aggressive about him.

Damon nodded. "Hey. That was you at the arena earlier, right?"

Maeve nodded. "Yeah, that was me. Thanks."

"No problem," he replied.

Luna jumped in, "Mr. Morris, your riding skills are insane! Did you train professionally or something?"