Burning Rubber: Extreme Racing, Book 2 Read online

Page 14


  “Perfect,” Veronica murmured. “That’ll give us a couple of weeks to prepare.”

  Prepare? Prepare for what?

  “You relax,” Veronica all but patted her on the back. “I’ll take care of Derrick. Men are pigs, Callie. I’m convinced of it. You did nothing wrong.”

  There was something wrong. With her, because she wanted Derrick again, and if he called…

  If he called she would go to him if it meant he’d drive for the XRL.

  Yeah, right. You’d go just to have sex with him again. Who are you kidding?

  “Thanks, Veronica,” Callie said when she realized her boss was waiting for her to say something. “Don’t worry. I’ll be okay.” She shifted her gaze to her desk, at the stack of paperwork there. “I’m going to stay away from men for awhile. Maybe bat for the other team, ya know?”

  The words were meant as a joke, but she could tell her boss didn’t take them that way.

  “That’s Callie the rape victim talking.”

  Callie swung her head back around. Rape? Derrick hadn’t raped her. You couldn’t rape the willing. “Veronica, I think you misunderstand—”

  “Shh.” Her boss placed a finger against her mouth. “It’s all right. I understand.”

  She did understand, Callie realized. There was such compassion in her eyes Callie wondered who it was that’d hurt Veronica in the past, and if it was part of the reason why her boss was so messed up inside. Holy shit. That had to be it.

  “Thanks, Veronica,” Callie surprised when Veronica began to stroke the side of her face. Okay, this was starting to feel a little creepy. Then her boss straightened up, swung away.

  “I’ll deal with Derrick Derringer from here on out,” she called out breezily. “You and he are done.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  Her boss was gone, Callie sinking back in her chair the moment she realized she was finally alone.

  Dear God, what had just happened?

  And how the hell was she supposed to deal with this situation?

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Damn it.” Derrick slammed down the phone. “What the hell is going on over there?”

  “What?” Diane asked, looking suspiciously like his mother as she stood in the middle of his race car hauler’s isle, clipboard in hand.

  “Nothing,” Derrick muttered.

  “She still dodging your calls?”

  Now he felt like a teenage kid.

  “Yes.” She wouldn’t be able to dodge him next weekend. Oh, no. Next weekend was one of XRL’s test sessions, and the more she avoided talking to him, the more Derrick was determined to show up there.

  “Humph.” Diane paused, pen poised above the sheet of paper on her clipboard. They were due to head off to a PR appearance in a couple of minutes, Derrick enjoying the calm before the storm. “It sounds like this girl’s got you tied up in knots.”

  Tied up in knots? More like in the shape of a pretzel. He’d been trying to get through to her ever since she’d ditched him in Phoenix a week ago. Then Veronica had called and told him not to bother showing up to the test session the following weekend. He tried to get to the bottom of why he’d been suddenly disinvited from joining the XRL, but Veronica the Pirahnica had bared her tiny little teeth. She’d told him Derrick knew exactly why the XRL wanted nothing to do with him, and the only thing Derrick could think of is that Callie had told her boss about their deal. He had a hard time believing it, though. Why would she go and do that? Then he’d tried calling Callie to get to the bottom of it, but she refused to answer. He was baffled, and more than a little concerned.

  “Maybe you should back off a bit,” Diane advised. “Give her some space.”

  That would be a first. Usually, it was a major pain in the ass when it came time to break off the relationship. Ironic he found himself on the other side of the fence. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. They told me not to show up next weekend, but I’ll be damned if I listen to Veronica—”

  He cut off his words once he realized what he was admitting. He’d kept his future involvement with the XRL under wraps. Once he won the year-end championship this weekend, he’d be in a better position to convince his team owner the XRL wasn’t a bad thing, but for now, it was his own, private secret.

  Diane was smart as a whip though. “What about Veronica?” she asked. “I assume you mean Veronica Adams, the owner of the newly formed XRL?”

  Leave it to Diane to ask him point blank. “Nothing. I was just thinking out loud.”

  Diane didn’t look as if she believed him, but she wasn’t pushy like some of his previous PR reps, either. “You ready to go?”

  No, Derrick wanted to answer back.

  “Sure.”

  He appreciated Diane dropping the subject. Usually, PR reps felt they had the right to know every little detail of a driver’s life, hypothetically so they could do damage control ahead of time. Derrick had long held the belief PR reps were really just plain old nosey. Not Diane. She’d been great so far.

  “Let’s roll.”

  “Listen, Diane.” He ran to catch up to her. “I was wondering if you’d do me a favor.” They’d stopped by the sliding glass doors leading outside. It was dark out, the evening race due to start in less than half an hour and so the Cup garage sat deserted. The last race of the year for the Busch guys—and, yes, that’s what he still called the minor leagues, Busch. Overhead lights reflected back to him in the windows of the garage, elaborately painted car-covers tucked over million dollar race cars.

  “What kind of favor?”

  He forced his attention back to his PR rep. “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind calling Callie for me.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I noticed your phone has a different area code than mine. Almost looks like it might be a California code.”

  “Bozeman,” she said. “Montana. Where I grew up. I’ve had the same number since I was in my twenties.”

  Montana, huh? He would have never figured that. Although now he thought about it, she looked the ranching type. That must be where she got her athletic build.

  “Okay. Great.” He smiled. “The point being she won’t recognize it. She might actually pick up for you.”

  Diane’s dark eyes scanned his face as she opened the door a crack. A breeze caught a wisp of dark hair and blew it across her face. “You’ve really got it bad, don’t you, soldier?”

  See, he appreciated a woman who spoke her mind. Unlike his previous PR reps, Diane didn’t beat around the bush. Sort of like Callie. There he went thinking about her again.

  “Yeah,” he admitted. “I guess I do.”

  He’d never felt this way before. It drove him nuts. That must be why he felt so on edge. So desperate to reach her. If it wasn’t for the year-end championship, he’d have flown to California two days ago.

  “I’d just like to get to the bottom of why she won’t take my calls.” Surely she’d enjoyed their time together. Okay, so maybe he’d been a bit demanding. Maybe in hindsight it hadn’t been the smartest thing in the world to barter sex for his cooperation, but she’d been free to say no.

  “So you want me to call her and get to the bottom of things.”

  “If you wouldn’t mind.” Derrick gave her his best, winning smile.

  She narrowed her eyes. “You’re shameless, but you probably know that already.”

  “I do.”

  She shook her head. “Okay, fine. I’ll do it. But you have to promise me something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Win that championship tomorrow. I don’t know what you’ve got going on with the X-TREME Racing League, but I have a feeling it’s going to impact your driving career. However, if my name’s affiliated with the driver who’s won the year-end championship, I’ll have a good chance of hooking up with another race team when you’re AWOL.”

  “Wait, wait, wait. What makes you think I’m going anywhere?”

  She stared down at him sadly, and he was disconcerted to
realize she really was quite a bit taller than him. “Just a feeling I have. You’re tired of all this, Derrick. I can see that. I’ve been doing PR for a lot of years and it’s written all over your face. You’re dying to try something new and this XRL is right up your alley.”

  She was right. If he ended up winning tomorrow it’d be his sixth championship. What more did he have to prove? Sure it’d be nice to go out as the driver with the most championships under his belt, but records were meant to be broken. Sooner or later some other young pup would come along and blow everything to smithereens. So what did it all matter, anyway?

  “Would you come with me?”

  Her brows arched in surprise. “To the XRL?”

  He nodded.

  “Seriously?”

  “I’m going to need a PR rep. I’m going to need a whole host of things if I start my own team.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “’Course, who knows if the XRL will actually amount to anything. It could be a short-term career. I’d be your boss. A bona fide driver/owner, which means building my own cars also. But I have a crew in mind, some of the guys I’ve worked with in the past. And I was thinking of talking to Redbox as a sponsor. They’ve been sniffing around me for the past year, and this would be cheaper for them to invest in than a Cup car. And the action on the XRL tracks promises to be better than the choreographed bullshit that goes on around here.”

  “You’ve really thought long and hard about this, haven’t you?” Diane asked, shoving the hank of hair away from her face, her green windbreaker rustling as she moved her arm.

  “I have,” He was surprised by the admission. He hadn’t talked to anybody about this, yet voicing everything out loud seemed to solidify matters in his mind. He really could do this—if he wanted.

  “Okay.” A silly smile filled her face. “I’m probably crazy for agreeing to this, but okay. If you decide to jump, I’ll go with.”

  “Terrific.” Derrick hugged her impulsively. “I mean it, Diane. I’d be thrilled to have you. You’ve been terrific this past year.”

  “Thanks.” The smile on her face was one he’d never seen before. She looked genuinely delighted by his compliment. “You still want me to call your girlfriend?”

  His girlfriend. Yeah. He liked the sound of that. “If you don’t mind. Ask her what’s going on. Hopefully she’ll be more willing to talk to you than me.”

  “Will I be shocked at what I hear?”

  Derrick almost laughed. “You might be,” he drawled. “You very well might be.”

  When Callie’s cell phone rang the next day, she yelped. Stupid phone. She hated the way they rang out of the blue while you were in the middle of something. She glanced down at the display. 406. Not Derrick. Thank God.

  “This is Callie,” she answered breezily.

  “Hi, Callie, this is Diane Despain, Derrick’s PR rep.”

  Callie’s whole body froze. She almost hung up the phone then and there, except what if something was wrong with Derrick? What if he’d crashed his car during practice and she was on his emergency call list.

  You’ve been drinking too much Kool-Aid.

  Still, she managed to wheeze out, “Hi, Diane,” in as nonchalant a tone as she could muster.

  “Derrick wanted me to call and find out what’s going on. It seems Veronica Adams called earlier this week and told him not to show up at the next XRL test.”

  “She did?”

  “Yeah, she did, but Derrick didn’t know why. That’s why he’s been trying to call you all week.”

  She heard a tinge of accusation in the woman’s voice. Callie covered her face with her hands. “Yeah, well, we’ve been a little busy around here.”

  “So you’re telling me this was all a mistake?”

  The moment of truth had arrived. Callie either cut things off with Derrick now, permanently, or she offered up some sort of vague excuse. But to be honest, it was a relief to know he was still interested in driving for them.

  Wait.

  Did that mean the rest of their deal was still on?

  “I think Veronica was concerned about Derrick’s…” ludicrous demands, but she couldn’t say that. “I think she was concerned about Derrick’s level of commitment to the XRL.”

  “I wouldn’t be calling you if he wasn’t committed.”

  Yes, but was Callie committed to having sex with him?

  Her toes curled.

  “Great. I guess we’ll see you next weekend,” Callie heard herself say.

  “You’re sure about that?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be sure?”

  “Just a feeling I have.”

  How much had Derrick told her? Callie’s face turned molten at the mere thought of the woman knowing even a tenth of what had gone on. “Tell him I’ll see him this weekend.” Callie knew she’d have to confront Veronica about what she’d done, and that she’d have to sort out her deal with Derrick, but Callie had a feeling she could make this work. Maybe.

  “I’ll do that,” Diane was saying.

  “Wait,” Callie cried when it became evident Diane was about to hang up. “Tell Derrick—” she swallowed, her tongue suddenly unable to form words, “—tell Derrick good luck tomorrow. And I hope he ends up winning the year-end championship.”

  “Me too.” Diane’s voice warmed considerably. “See you this weekend.”

  The woman cut the line, Callie left staring at her phone.

  See you this weekend.

  She should tell Veronica. Now. Or maybe not. Crap. She didn’t know what to do. Veronica had seemed like a different person this week, but to actually give Derrick the boot? Wow. Not that there hadn’t been flashes of the old Veronica at times. Still, lately she’d been much more patient with Callie. It’d been nice. It would continue to be nice, Callie vowed. She’d tell Veronica she’d called Derrick and re-invited him to the XRL test session. That he’d just been kidding about having sex with her.

  And if he wasn’t kidding.

  She would cross that bridge when she came to it. Right now she had to do what was best for the XRL, and that included dealing with demanding race car drivers. Veronica would understand.

  She hoped.

  “You did what?” Veronica all but screamed the following Monday.

  “Veronica, please.” Callie held up a hand. “I know what he did was unforgivable, but we need Derrick. I still can’t believe you told him not to show up. He just won the year-end championship for goodness sake.”

  She’d cried.

  When he’d roared across the start/finish line in tenth place—good enough to win the Cup—she’d fought the urge to bawl her eyes out. When he looked into the camera, Callie hadn’t found herself thinking about sex with him. No. What she thought was how much she missed his smile…the way he’d touched her so tenderly…how he could look into her eyes and know exactly what she was thinking, and what she wanted.

  “Ridiculous.” Veronica leaned back in her throne—a massive black, leather and chrome chair that seemed to swallow her boss. “I don’t care how good a driver he is, or how many championships he’s won, I don’t want him driving for the XRL.”

  “Too late. I’ve already re-extended the invitation. He’s arriving Thursday night and so he’ll be around for the entire three-day test session.”

  “No.” Veronica shook her head, the ends of her hair all but turning into snakes she looked so enraged. “I won’t have it.”

  Callie had known it would be this way. Veronica hated being contradicted, and she’d obviously decided to write off Derrick Derringer even though, clearly, he would have been one of their biggest assets. There was a part of Callie that felt almost flattered she’d take such a strong stand on Callie’s behalf. Another part of Callie thought this was typical of Veronica. When presented with a logical solution, Veronica did the illogical.

  “Veronica, please. Hear me out.” Callie came forward and tentatively sat down in front of her. Veronica’s office was like a mix of department store dressing room and O
fficeMax. No doubt about it. Her boss was a slob. Discarded jackets, water bottles and fast-food containers lay on various surfaces. She had the biggest office and a wall of windows—one behind her desk and two on the sides—that Callie envied.

  “I’m listening.”

  Callie noted she was in her professional secretary garb. Dark-framed glasses Callie was certain she didn’t need—and that looked suspiciously like her own—all-black business suit and a bun that would have done an accountant proud.

  “Okay, here goes then. Derrick was a cad. He’s admitted as much.”

  That was a bald-faced lie, but oh well.

  “It was wrong of him to, ah, to ask me to, ah, to—”

  “Fuck him so he’d drive for us?”

  “Okay, yeah, that in exchange for driving for us. But I’m a big girl. It’s not as if I haven’t, um, done that before. And if it meant the sex of XRL, I mean, the success,” she quickly corrected, “of XRL, well, so be it. I’m willing to let bygones be bygones—as long as he stays away from me. And he’s agreed to do that.”

  Clearly, Veronica was not pleased because, clearly, she understood Callie was lying through her teeth. Or maybe not. Crap, this was such a mess.

  “He should be hung up by the balls.”

  “Granted. But let me deal with him, Veronica. It’ll be okay. I can handle him. I promise.”

  Her boss didn’t look too pleased, but she was also a savvy businesswoman (sometimes), so Callie could tell she weighed the options.

  Fingernails clacked-clacked-clacked across the smooth glass surface of her desk. “Okay, fine. He can test with us this weekend. But if he makes one wrong move—”

  “I know, I know.” Callie held up a hand, confident she could convince Derrick to stay away from her—and still drive for the XRL. “One wrong move and I’ll string him up myself.”

  Three days later Callie had bitten her nails down to the quick and her stomach felt like it’d been used by the gymnastics Olympic team for a floor routine.

  “Remember,” Veronica said when they arrived at the crack of dawn on Thursday morning, Callie amazed her boss had actually made the journey with her this time. “When he shows up, you’re to ignore him.”