Cynthia swung the rig in close to the show stable entrance and parked it there. She backed down from the high cab, a movement watched appreciatively by the men standing nearby. She had realized from puberty that her body had to be kept in shape to get where she wanted to be, and her designer jeans were stretched tightly enough as she dismounted from the truck to show that she was maintaining that perfect balance - not unappealingly thin, not voluptuously fleshy, but that point in between which men found so attractive. She was oblivious to the stares as she stalked into the barn. She had driven here, but if she could find her groom he could come out and unload the horse. She'd already done far more work than she had wanted to today, and her mood was not going to improve if he was off somewhere and she had to unload the damned horse herself. She was surrounded by incompetents, and they'd do well to stay out of her way, like that driver who had thought to cut in front of her entering the parking lot. She'd already forgotten about him.
Ranny had not yet forgotten about her.