Smokin' & Spinnin' (8 page)

This is like arguing with a stop sign. I’m not winning here!

“Oh!” Ryan gloats like he has had an eureka moment. “I almost completely forgot. Whitney, did you mention to Jerri that on Sunday you were almost two hours late and that you didn’t even make it to the sponsor breakfast? And walked into the mandatory drivers’ meeting late, embarrassing us all!”

Jerri turns to me with a look of unbelief on her face. My face falls as I try to explain.

“Yes, Jerri. I was late. I am sorry. My alarm didn’t go off,” I lie with a half-truth.

Jerri gives me a disappointed look as Ryan sounds off again. “Sounds like grounds for termination to me!”

I put my hands on my forehead.
Would you please shut the hell up!

I try a different approach.
Breathe, Whitney. Breathe. I cannot lose this job.
I move away from Jerri and walk toward Ryan. As hard as it is, I put my anger aside to think clearly.

“Look, Ryan, I am new to all this. All I need is some direction. You could have handled that situation entirely differently, but you chose to humiliate me.”

The look on Ryan’s face softens for a moment, but it is fleeting. “Yes, I could have, but I bet your ass you won’t make that mistake again.”

I gasp. I throw Ryan’s agenda down on the boardroom table. I can’t take this. I cannot fight with someone who doesn’t fight fair.

I turn sharply on my heel toward the boardroom exit. I need air. I have to get out of this room for a few minutes. I fling open the door, and it hits the opposing wall with a bang. Several of the other employees in the boardroom jump at the impact. As it sounds out, I have an immediate flashback of Annalise’s demise. I stalk back to my office.

I walk past a group of employees who are quickly scattering back to their desks after eavesdropping, no doubt. As I walk past the last row of cubicles, I witness two women exchange money over the top of their working spaces. Abruptly, I stop, then walk back to the women.

“What the hell was that for?”

“I…um…” a middle-aged woman stammers, surprised by my outburst. She shakes her head and looks down. “I’m sorry, but there was a bet in the office to see how long you would last,” she mutters apologetically.

“Oh really!” I say matter-of-factly. I am even madder now. “Well give her her money back because I’m far from done here!” I instruct the ladies, and they nod guiltily.

After that slight detour, I continue to my office in a huff. I cannot believe this. My own coworkers actually made a bet against me to see how long I would last. That is complete bullshit. Oh, I will show them. I wear out the carpet in my office, pacing and ranting to myself.
Lord
,
please forgive me, but that motherfucking son of a bitch!
I quickly remember myself. I’m not going to do this. He is not going to run me. I’m going to do my job, and by God, he is going to do his.

Jerri cautiously sticks her head into my office. “I’m so sorry, Whitney,” she offers, dejected.

“It’s OK, Jerri. It’s not your fault. I just need a few minutes to regroup and get my thoughts straight, is all.”

Jerri looks confused. “What do you mean? You’re not quitting?”

“Hell no!” I respond suddenly, without thought. Then remorsefully I add in my best southern drawl, “I’m sorry, Jerri, but no, I’m not. He ain’t running me outta of here.”

I make a few more laps around my office as I quickly devise a plan in my head.

“May I have your permission to speak to him freely?” I ask Jerri. “I believe I can handle this now.”

Jerri smirks. “By all means. I am out of options and open for suggestions.”

I look down at my desk for support for my plan. I spy Ryan’s employment contracts and sponsorship commitments, and instantly my plan is established.

I say with grand authority, “I’m ready, Jerri! Let’s do this!”

Chapter 8

I
take a deep breath, grab the stack of bulky documents off my desk, and head back into the boardroom. With Jerri flanking me to the right, I feel strong, although my heart is about to burst out of my chest. She and I stride purposefully through the boardroom door.

I look Ryan squarely in the eye as I slam the contracts on the mahogany table in front of him.
Damn! That felt good!
Ryan tries to cover up his surprise that I have returned to the boardroom, but fails miserably. He gapes at me with a “deer caught in the headlights” expression, then quickly changes to his trademark smirk. I laugh to myself. Whitney 1. Ryan 0.

“What’s this?” Ryan says coolly.

I am now keenly aware that every eye in the boardroom is on me. I’ve made my scene. Now I had damn well follow through. I steal a quick glance at Jerri. She is my backbone. She gives me a slight nod as if giving me permission to proceed. I drag in a hasty breath and square my shoulders to him.
Here goes…

“Ryan.” I look him directly in his radiant blue eyes. The glow in them causes me to falter. “When…Jerri asked me to take over the position of public relations manager for you, temporarily, I took the liberty
of reviewing your employment contract as well as your sponsorship agreements.”

Ryan raises his eyebrows with light amusement. “And…?”

“It seems that you have gotten a tad bit confused about your job description,” I say matter-of-factly.

“And how’s that?” Ryan cracks.

“I would like to remind you that you only have two jobs to do.” I hold up two fingers to accentuate my statement. I start my list. “Number one, drive your race car.” There is an audible gasp in the room, but my eyes do not leave his. His trademark smirk has been replaced by a lost look. I have embarrassed him, maybe. “And number two, abide by your sponsorship agreements.”

My blood pressure accelerates as I continue my rant. “It is my job to make sure that number two is accomplished. Therefore, you stick to number one, and I will make sure job number two is done correctly. And I can do my job a helluva lot better if you will act like an adult, for God’s sake!” I add to hasten my point. “Frankly,
we
…” I hesitate to look around the room for backup, but of course, no one will meet me gaze. “
We
are all sick and tired of your arrogant, condescending bullshit!”

Ryan shifts in his chair like he is about to say something, but remains silent. He looks as though steam is about to unload from his ears. Whitney 2. Ryan 0.

“According to these contracts, Ryan, you have directly violated some aspect of each one of your commitments and responsibilities. Why your sponsors, let alone your management, put up with this behavior is beyond me.”

Ryan jumps up from his chair, then slams his fist down on the table. “Because I am Ryan
fucking
Carter, that’s why.”

I cringe, recoil, and then reload. “Well, Ryan
fucking
Carter, you need to get your shit together, or you won’t have a race car to drive at all!” I shout. “Every single one of your sponsors has a right to pull the rug out from under you right this very second because you are too damned concerned with that incredibly large chip on your shoulder.”

A few snickers go up from the other employees who are witnessing my meltdown in the boardroom. I continue to ignore these outbursts because Ryan and I are deadlocked in a heated stare. Our intense standoff is broken by the sound of a small, one-person round of applause. We both turn to search the back of the boardroom to find our enthusiast.

As I look, I catch a glance at Jerri. Her face is deathly pale with a shocked look of horror. A man in what appears to be his midfifties glides effortlessly over to Jerri and me. He is dressed simply in jeans, plain white T-shirt, and work boots.

Jerri calmly whispers, “Garrett!”

Oh no! Oh shit!
It’s Ryan’s dad, the owner of GCR Racing. My face drops, no doubt mirroring Jerri’s look of horror, I’m sure of it. I don’t take my eyes off Mr. Carter, but I can hear the pleasure in Ryan’s voice when he makes a throaty, mocking “hmmmm” sound. The opposing team is finally on the scoreboard.

I take a step back, defeated. What have I done? How long has he been standing there? I continue to watch the exchange between Garrett and Jerri. He greets her fondly. She smiles and nods, although her face is still horribly pale.

Garrett turns his attention back to me. “Well, Miss…” He trails off, realizing he doesn’t know my name.

“Pa-Parker,” I stammer. Without even looking at Ryan, I know he is enjoying this.
Bastard!

“That was quite a speech, Miss Parker,” he continues. “I’m Garrett Carter, by the way.”

I smile and nod as I shakily take his proffered hand. I’m not sure what to say. Clearly I have said enough, so I stay silent.

Garrett turns back to face his wayward son. “Now, Ryan…as Miss Parker so eloquently put it”—he motions to me with a sideways glance—“you really
do
need to get your shit together.”

Ryan’s face falls flat in a shocked line. By his expression, I can tell that he assumed his dad was on his team. After an official review, the opposing team’s point has been revoked.

Garrett continues, “Ryan, I came in here today to speak to Jerri about you, especially since you skipped our morning breakfast.”

Ryan doesn’t look at Garrett. Instead he looks out the window of the boardroom.

“But to my surprise, Miss Parker has said enough for all of us. I believe she got right to the point.”

My face burns with embarrassment.

Ryan slowly turns his chair back around. His gaze shifts between me and Garrett. Seven shades of red flash over his face as he listens stoically to the warning his father carefully lays out.

“Listen, and listen good, son. If I experience any more problems from you, whether it is from this office/staff, on the track, off the track, and/or from any of our sponsors, I will fire your ass!” Another audible gasp goes up. “You got that, son!”

Oh my God! This is not happening!
I am mortified as Garrett continues to reprimand Ryan.

“Because frankly, son, I have had enough!” He pauses a moment for Ryan’s response, but doesn’t get one. “Are we clear?”

Ryan doesn’t miss a beat and mutters, “Crystal,” through gritted teeth.

Garrett immediately castigates him. “Don’t start with your damned smart mouth! Are we clear, son?”

“Yes, sir,” he says with his mouth in a firm line.

“Well then…good. I’m glad we understand one another. Now, I have some work to attend to, and I am sure the rest of you do, as well. Let’s get to it.”

Jerri replies a soft, “Yes, sir!” for the group as Ryan slams his chair back and walks hastily out of the office, not making eye contact with anyone.

I let out a huge breath that I didn’t even realize I was holding. I look around to find a chair to steady myself. I feel like I am about to fall over.

As the other employees escape the boardroom and make their way back to their desks, Garrett turns to me with a straightforward command as he gestures toward the exit. “Miss Parker, walk with me!”

Damn! He is going to fire me after all!

Chapter 9

I
follow Garrett out into the hallway, and we make our way toward the exit. He calls for the down elevator, which opens quickly, and we enter in silence. I have a huge lump in my throat and a feeling of dread in my stomach. I feel nauseous. The elevator doors close as Garrett inputs a special code into the keypad to reach the B level, which I assume stands for the basement.

As the elevator begins its descent, Garrett turns to me. “I was quite impressed with your speech?”

What?

“I don’t believe anyone has every spoken to my son that way before. Well…except for his mother maybe!” He laughs.

A gush of air escapes my lungs. “So, I’m not fired?” I mutter, sounding relieved.

Garrett laughs heartily. “No, on the contrary, Miss Parker, I would like you to become Ryan’s permanent public relations manager.”

I am shocked. I gape at Garrett, not sure of what to say. I start to stammer, “I…uh…Thank you, Mr. Carter.”

“Please, call me Garrett.” He smiles as the elevator door opens.

We walk into a vast open area that looks like a museum. The floor is pure white polished marble. There are stock cars and glass trophy cases placed strategically throughout the space. Racing photographs and mementos decorate the walls, all in tribute and celebration to the legendary career of Garrett Ryan Carter Sr.