O'Brien's Lady - By Marsha Doss Page 0,36

Sonny's home for a few business associates from San Francisco.

"It sounds like fun," She said with interest.

"I will have it catered, of course, so you may concentrate on being the perfect hostess and not the perfect cook."

"That sounds easy enough, I haven't been to a party since your last one."

"Then, it is well overdue."

They talked and made plans during the drive home to Pinebrook. Sonny was getting caught up in the excitement of entertaining again. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed helping Pierre with his parties until now. His dinners were always well-planned and never anything less than perfect. Just like Pierre himself.

Sonny watched Pierre manipulating the car with ease and she remembered riding with Michael, watching his profile, feeling his presence, smelling his tart cologne.

It seemed odd to her that the two men in her life were such opposites. Pierre was sparkling with vitality and pure talent. He was a perfectly oiled piece of machinery that never stopped. Michael, on the other hand, was strong and proud and had an unforgettable way of caring for and loving her father's Thoroughbreds.

Sonny closed her eyes, listening to the quiet purr of the motor. She was remembering the searing touch of Michael's fingers and the excitement of his kiss when his lips touched hers.

Yes, these two men were totally different.

CHAPTER 10

"Michael, I had other things planned for today. I can't possibly go to the racetrack with you." Sonny stood motionless in the doorway.

"Why not?"

"I have some shopping to do for the party this week-end, and this seemed the best time to get it finished."

"Well, it's not. Dad has to go to Sacramento for the next four days and so we are elected." His reassuring smile did nothing to dispel her feeling of disappointment. She had never been much interested in the races, and today she was even less interested.

"Is this one of those 'have to' occasions?"

"Definitely. It's time you witnessed for yourself the end product of all your work around here."

"I'll take your word for it."

"Not good enough, Sonny. An owner's place is at the track."

Sonny smiled sardonically. "Fine, then you can be the owner that watches them run. I'll keep things going here."

"Without me?" Michael's mouth was firm, but his eyes sparkled with an element of mischief.

Sonny was well aware of his over confidence in himself, but was always amazed that Michael so blatantly flaunted his arrogance. She had enough confidence in herself to know that she could run Pinebrook just as efficiently and smoothly as he had.

"Yes, without you, Michael."

He smiled then and bowed his head in a mocking gesture. "Some other time, but I'd like you to go with me. Bright Fancy's running." Sonny had watched the young filly come back from her training and known that she must be a magnificent runner, so the thought of actually seeing her perform was intriguing. Spending the day with Michael would not be easy, but she would get through it somehow.

"I'll go…but only to see Bright Fancy." Her voice and manner was emphatic.

Sonny had telephoned Pierre, telling him that she must watch Pinebrook's entry. He had assured her that he understood, and he would use the day to find a caterer for the dinner party.

Bay Meadows was, in itself, a different world for Sonny. By the time they arrived, the grand stand and outdoor seating areas were filled. The betting windows were lined with men and women, watching the board, checking the odds and getting ready to place their wagers.

"We'll go on up to the Turf Club," Michael announced as he placed his hand at her back, guiding her up the wide staircase. "There are some people I'd I ike you to meet."

Sonny was introduced to several owners and each one offered condolences for her father and their support of her new business venture with Michael O'Brien. One owner in particular, a Seamus McGuire, had high praise for him.

"Sonny, I've known Michael here, since he was born. In fact, I worked on the same farm with his father in Ireland." Seamus smiled and put an arm affectionately around Michael's shoulders. The older man was short and stocky and held a beer in one hand as he spoke.

"Then, you must come see our new colt," Sonny said brightly.

"New blood, that's fine. I just might take you up on that." His large round stomach, which protruded over his belt and his bright red cheeks pointed to the fact that Seamus enjoyed his ale as much as his horses.

"I'll tell dad I saw