Playing Around

Nick scraped by as assistant trainer, watching the head honchos pocket fat checks for half the sweat. One week the owner tossed him an unexpected bonus, a nice surprise. After a brutal afternoon of slogging through mud and manure, all he wanted was hands on his back—ideally the happy-ending kind he’d heard whispered about by the jockeys. Soapy Massage sounded like just the ticket, so Nick hosed off the worst grime, stuffed the fresh cash in his jeans, and headed straight there.