Part 65 - Confrontation

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Samantha


Quitting my job at the polo yard turned out to be far easier than I thought it would be. I popped into the office at the end of my shift the next day and said, "Can we talk?"

Ricky spun around in his chair. "Let me guess. You're leaving us."

I nodded.

"Can't say I'm surprised, but I will miss you. You've got a good way with horses. Who offered you more money?"

I didn't want to tell him that Harry was going to pay me to take care of Driz, so I just said, "I've got a chance to do more sewing and make some money at it. That's why I came to London, after all."

"Good for you." Ricky shook my hand. "Well, it's been good to work with you. Give my best to His Royal Highness. And if you ever go watch a polo match, drop by and say hi."

And that was that. I walked out of the stable feeling somehow lighter, but a bit at loose ends. I still wasn't sure how the next few weeks were going to go, waiting for the news about Meghan, and it felt strange not to have a fixed schedule, with somewhere to be and someone telling me what to do.

I stopped by the stable where Harry had moved Drizzle and checked in on her. She was still somewhat dopey from the painkillers, but she seemed glad to see me, and I fussed over her for a while before heading to the Sleeping Lion for dinner.

Randa was parked on her usual bar stool and I joined her at the bar, glad that we were on good terms again. I was outlining the vet's plan for Drizzle's recovery when Randa looked over my shoulder and asked, "What the fuck? Is that who I think it is?"

A woman, with her long dark hair pulled up into a ponytail in a thin attempt at disguise, walked into the pub. Her designer wardrobe was glaringly obvious in the dim and somewhat run-down environs of the Sleeping Lion.

I just sat there, stunned, as she looked me over.

"Holy shit," Randa breathed. "She's got balls, coming in here."

It had to be a mistake. This was not a place that someone like her would walk into by accident. But she came right up to us and smiled at me, holding out her hand. "Hello. I'm Meg. I don't think we've met."

"Bloody hell not," Randa said, too loud.

Meg looked around, her eyes falling on the booth in the back where Harry and I had sat during our first date. "Do you think we could move to somewhere more...private?" she asked.

This was so crazy I couldn't even believe it was happening. "Sure," I said. "Why not?" Because really...why not? She had obviously come here to meet me, and I was curious to find out why.

Randa grabbed my arm as I stood up. "I'm not letting you two out of my sight," she warned.

"I don't think she's going to do anything to me here in public," I said.

"Well, we've got your back, Sammy girl," Tom said fiercely. "If you need anything, you just give me a nod and I'll be there. I don't care who she is, she's not making a scene in my pub."

Meg took the seat with her back to the bar, which suited me just fine. I slid in across from her, motioning Tom to bring us some beers.

"So you are Samantha," Meg said brightly, studying me intently.

"So they tell me," I said, taking a swig of my beer. "What brings you down to the Sleeping Lion? You've heard that the shepherd's pie is amazing?"

"I thought it might be good for us to sit down and have a little chat, since we are sleeping with the same man."

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