Authors: Pamela Britton
Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Love Stories, #Contemporary Romance, #Fathers and Daughters, #Sports & Recreation, #Businesswomen, #Single Fathers, #North Carolina, #Automobile Racing Drivers, #Automobile Racing, #Motor Sports, #NASCAR (Association), #Automobiles; Racing
On the Edge (28 page)
“But thanks for the support,” she said to Sylvia, giving her a hug.
“I’m here if you need anything,” her longtime assistant said.
John, her NASCAR Craftsman Truck Series crew chief, stood behind Sylvia.
“Hey, what’s going on here?” she asked. “Y’all act like you’ll never see me again.”
“Ms. Newman,” he said, his blue work shirt stained with grease and other things. “I’m so sorry—”
“Don’t be,” she said, giving him a gamine smile. “I’m going to fight this, damn it.”
“And in the meantime we’ll be racing our hearts out for you,” he said, coming forward to give her a hug, too. “Until you’re back.”
He smelled of oil and cleaning solvent, and he probably transferred grease onto her suit, but she didn’t care. She hugged him tight.
It was that way her whole way out of the complex. Someone would stop her—Connie; Brian, the truck series spotter who worked on chassis during the day; Chris, the rear-end specialist; and right behind them would be someone else. By the time she made it to the front doors Becca felt dizzy from the effort of holding everything inside because the truth of the matter was, she wasn’t at all convinced she could fight this. Will Black was crafty and he knew she didn’t have the money to fight him. He
knew
it.
knew
it.
The realization made her want to throw up.
But she was proud of herself, because when she left Newman Motorsports, she left with her head held high.
No one noticed when she broke down inside her car.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SHE DECIDED to sell the house. If she wanted to fight Will, she’d need the money, so she really didn’t have a choice. She’d long since sold off every other piece of property she had. Her home was the only thing left, and even that she didn’t own free and clear. She’d be lucky to walk away with enough money to hire an attorney and rent an apartment.
And it was her own damn fault.
She’d put herself in this financial position, first by using the money she’d gotten when Randy died to expand the teams, and then when sponsors had proven scarce, mortgaging the properties she owned to see her through. She’d been hedging her bets. Hoping things would turn around. They never had and so now here she was.
Maybe she really was incompetent.
Of course, once word got around, her phone started to ring. Cece and Blain offered to bail her out. But she’d only be getting deeper and deeper into debt. It was time she stopped doing that. And if part of those consequences was walking away from the team until she sorted it all out, so be it.
But her first meeting with her attorney didn’t go all that well, for while there was no official “termination” clause in her loan documents, the simple truth was that Will had the money to fight her in court—and she didn’t.
So she retreated to her house once more, wondering what to do and if she’d finally lost her race team, a thought that was truly incomprehensible.
She’d had the house on the market less than a week and already there’d been a buyer, someone who wanted to close escrow within thirty days. That was good because she could use the money. Her mortgage was due. Her attorney wanted his retainer. And her first payment to that lying, thieving William Black was due, too, Becca thought, sitting on the bench swing Randy had strung beneath the picturesque branches of a giant maple. The tree’s leaves scattered around her, creating a yellow sea. She flicked at some of those leaves with her toe, snuggling deep into her off-white sweater to ward off the evening chill.
Three more weeks, she thought, looking out at the cove that hugged the edge of her property, the pines and oaks and aspens that she loved so much casting shadows on the ground.
God, she would miss this.
“Hello, Becca.”
She flinched, but to be honest, she wasn’t all that surprised he was here.
“How are you?”
She turned to face Adam. “How do you think I’m doing?”
He looked good. And worried.
She had to turn away.
“Probably not all that good,” he said. “At least if the rumors are true.”
Becca took a deep breath, steeled herself before turning back to him again. It was hard, but she forced her gaze up.
“Most of the time they are.”
“You look tired,” he said.
She released an exasperated huff of breath. “I’ve been packing, getting the house ready—”
Dreaming about you.
“You’ve been having panic attacks?”
She drew back, surprised by the question for some reason. “How do you know?”
“Cece told me.”
She shook her head, glancing out over the cove again. “I’m fine.”
“You’ve been pacing the house at night, unable to sleep, keeping Michelle up—”
Once again she swung back to face him. “She told you that, too?”
He smiled a bit, his own eyes shifting to the cove. She watched as his gaze darted around, the smile turning suddenly sad. “How are you going to leave it all?”
Game over. She was tired of dancing around issues. “I was just asking myself that same question.”
He came toward her. Becca tensed, thinking he meant to touch her again, her pulse skittering into high gear at just the thought.
“You don’t have to leave,” he said, keeping his distance.
She closed her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath—and smelling him. “I’m not going to accept help from Cece and Blain. Nor Lance and Sarah Cooper.” Both of whom had called and offered their support.
“There are others who would help, too. You’re not without friends in this industry.”
He smelled so good. She kept her eyes closed, inhaling his scent, memorizing it.
“I know that, Adam. But I need to do this on my own.” She turned, forcing a smile to her face. “Ironic, isn’t it? You get your foot in the door right as I’m forced to make an exit.”
“Don’t leave.”
“I’m trying not to.”
“You’re going to win this battle.”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” she said, the swing gently rocking back and forth. “Maybe it’s time for me to get out of this business, anyway. Maybe I should have done that a long time ago.”
“Don’t say that.”
But as she said the words, for the first time she wondered if they were true. “Thanks for coming over,” she said, trying to change the subject.
“You knew I would.”
And still he didn’t move nearer. She waited for him to do it, though in truth, she didn’t know what she’d do if he did. But he didn’t.
“Adam, I’m—” She swallowed, swiped a lock of hair away from her face. The sun had started to go down, a slight breeze kicking up as it always did this time of day. “I’m sorry about…everything.”
“I’m not.”
Her gaze jerked to his, Becca wondering if this was it. If this was when he’d take her into her arms.
“I’m not sorry for anything that happened. You’re a wonderful woman, Becca. I’m just sorry it didn’t work out.”
Didn’t work out.
Was that what happened? Was theirs a relationship like so many others out there? The kind that just “didn’t work out”? She didn’t know. That was part of her conflict. She didn’t know what they’d had. Except love. Yes, definitely love. They’d had that and more.
Lindsey.
Was that what happened? Was theirs a relationship like so many others out there? The kind that just “didn’t work out”? She didn’t know. That was part of her conflict. She didn’t know what they’d had. Except love. Yes, definitely love. They’d had that and more.
Lindsey.
“How is Lindsey?”
He smiled, his first genuine smile since she’d seen him standing there above her. “She’s fine. Excited about my race this weekend.”
Becca could imagine. “You’re racing in a Cup race this weekend, aren’t you?”
“I’m going to try. Who knows if I’ll actually succeed at qualifying. Cup racing is a whole ’nother ball game.” A ball game she’d struck herself out of.
“I’m sure you’ll do great,” she said. A part of her wishing she could be there. But she wouldn’t go back. Not until this thing with Will Black was over, for better or worse. “Cece told me you are. It’s a pity you can’t do any more truck races without ruining your chance for rookie of the year next season.”
“Yeah, but next year I’ll be able to do a full schedule.”
“And probably end up winning that title.”
“From your lips to God’s ears.”
“It’ll happen, Adam. You’re good.”
“Not good enough.”
“Sure you are,” she said, stuffing her hands in her sleeves. The wind was cold.
“Not good enough for you.”
She turned toward him, his words startling her so much she couldn’t speak for a moment. “Is that what you think?”
“What am I supposed to think?”
That I’m a coward. That my life fell apart four years ago and I haven’t been able to get it back. That I’m afraid of loving you. Afraid that you’ll
leave
me. Like Randy.
leave
me. Like Randy.
“Not that,” she said. “Please, Adam, don’t think that. You’re the best man I’ve ever met.”
“Aside from Randy.”
She swallowed again, tears suddenly rimming her eyes. “Aside from Randy,” she said, smiling up at him.
He nodded, just once, her words seeming to be what he’d come to hear. “I better get going,” he said. “I just came by to—”
She waited, breath held, waited for…
What?
“Came by to see how you were doing.”
“I’m fine,” she repeated again softly.
No. I’m not. I’m not fine. I’ve lost everything, even the house, the house I shared with Randy. I’m not fine.
“Goodbye, Becca.”
And why didn’t he
see
that?
see
that?
“Goodbye, Adam.”
He turned to her. She thought he might—but, no, he just gave her a quick smile, turning away. She watched him turn to climb back up the knoll, the late evening sun casting an orange glow over his sweater. She almost turned away, but something made her stand there, something that built up inside of her and made her feel—
What?
But then he was gone.
SHE BLOCKED HIM from her mind. She had no choice, because the other option—the one that involved thinking about him every second of every day—wasn’t really an option at all.
But the routine of racing clung to her. She knew intuitively that it was Wednesday, and that the NASCAR Craftsman Truck Series haulers would be arriving. On Thursday she knew practice was going on. Friday was the day she dreaded most, particularly that Friday, because she knew Adam would be practicing a NASCAR NEXTEL Cup Series car. And even though she told herself she wouldn’t watch, she still kept a TV plugged into the family room wall. Still turned it on, the familiar sound of racing engines humming in the background.
He qualified fifteenth.
She shouldn’t have been surprised. While it wasn’t the pole, it was still a pretty amazing accomplishment.
And you shouldn’t be watching him do it, either.
But she couldn’t seem to stop herself. Besides, the not knowing was worse than the watching.
So she watched. She watched him during Saturday’s morning practice and she watched him during Happy Hour—the final practice of the weekend. And even though she told herself she didn’t care, she found herself listening for mention of Will Black’s drivers. That was how she learned how close BI Motorsports was to winning its first championship. She knew then that she would watch the race on Sunday.
What she didn’t know was how that one race would change her life.
“YOU READY FOR THIS?” Blain asked as he handed Adam his helmet.
“I’m ready,” Adam said, taking the thing from him.
“And just so you know, nobody expects you to go out there and kick ass. This is your first Cup race and plenty of people are wondering what the hell we’re doing here and so you can take it easy. But you should know that Cece and I believe in you, Adam. So go on out there and show them what you’ve got. Just stay safe.”
“I’ll be fine,” Adam said, popping in his ear-pieces and then pulling on his helmet, the bottom settling near his HANS device.
He’d be fine.
For Becca’s sake.
But not because he had something to prove to her. He’d long since proven he could drive, and drive well. No. He owed her what he was about to do.
“Stay safe,” Blain radioed again, tapping him on the helmet before closing up the safety net.
Oh, he planned to stay safe. It was Terry Russell that needed to watch out.
Terry Russell. Pilot of the number thirty-three car, and BI Motorsports’s star driver. All he had to do was finish the race in fifteenth place or better and the championship was his.
Not if Adam had anything to say about it.
It was dirty pool. Unethical. Blain would miss out on winnings.
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