The a Circuit Read Online Free PDF Page B

trouble. Real trouble, not the fun kind.
    No, the only ones she really trusted were the horses. They never lied to her. Never acted friendly to her face and bitchy behind her back. Never used her to get to her famous parents. That was a part of what had kept her riding all these years. She’d started for the thrills, always seeking out the rush of going faster and jumping higher. But she’d stuck with it for the horses themselves.
    Not that she’d ever admit that to anyone. Most people thought she was just in it for laughs. And Zara was fine with that.
    Skinny-Blondie finally finished setting the jumps and stepped back, and Zara leaned forward, eager to see what the mare could do. The billionaire chick—Zara forgot her name, but she’d seen her picture in the Chronicle enough times to recognize her face—put the horse into a smooth canter and aimed her toward the first fence.
    Just then there was a commotion from somewhere behind the group. Zara glanced that way just in time to see someone burst into view from around the corner of a nearby food stand.
    Great. It was Mr. Pitstains from earlier. This time he’d brought a couple of camera-toting friends. As soon as they spotted Zac, they all started snapping away.
    “Get the daughter, too,” one of the guys called out in a Queens accent so thick and gluey that Zara’s mother would have said it was straight out of central casting.
    “Oh, man,” Zara murmured under her breath, shooting Zac an irritated look. The last thing she wanted was for these freakazoids to stand there snapping pictures during her test ride.
    Not that she was shy. Far from it. She’d once gone skinny-dipping in the surf right next to the Santa Monica pier. In broad daylight.
    But she’d only done that to piss off her parents after they’d taken away her car for partying too much. This was different. It was her own thing, not the property of the Globe or TMZ or whatever.
    Besides, she hated looking stupid. And if there was one thing Zara had learned in her years of riding, it was that horses could be humbling. That was the flip side of them not caring who you were. They’d just as soon buck off a rock star’s daughter as some anonymous suburban brat.
    Zac’s head bodyguard, a tractor-trailer of a man known only as Bo, was already moving in on the photographers, with a couple of the other guys backing him up. Zara turned away as they did their thing, trying to focus on the mare in the ring. Little Miss Billionaire was taking her over a vertical that couldn’t be more than 2’9“, and the mare was squaring her knees, pricking her ears, and looking picture-perfect.
    By the time Zara checked again, the stalkarazzi dorks were nowhere in sight. Neither were the bodyguards. It gave her a moment of evil pleasure to imagine what Bo and the boys might be doing to remind those losers not to bother people. Not that it was probably really going down that way, but still. A girl could dream.
    But she was irritated that the interruption had happened in the first place. Back home, everyone was used to her being around the shows. There was no fuss even when Zac turned up to watch her ride, or her mom, either. Maybe a few autographs for the tourists, but that was it.
    “Frigging East Coast,” she muttered.
    “What was that?” the trainer, Jamie, asked politely.
    She couldn’t tell from his expression whether he’d heard her or not. “Nothing,” she said. “Talking to myself.”
    Jamie nodded, glancing out at the horse. “Want to see a few more jumps, or are you ready to take Ellie for a spin?”
    “I’m ready.” Zara shot another quick look around for lurking camera commandos, then glanced at her father. As usual, he looked as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He was testing out his pathetic pidgin Spanish on the cute young Mexican groom that had walked over with the group from Jamie’s barn; the groom was grinning like a loon and looking starstruck.
    Zara rolled her eyes. Totally