Total Control Page 9

  “Benjamin, meet Lex.” He grabbed his dog’s collar, ordering him down, but the dog refused, his stub tail wagging so hard he literally rocked from foot to foot.

  “Hey, Lex,” Benjamin giggled.

  “Watch out,” Todd said. “He’ll lick you silly if you’re not careful.”

  “That’s okay,” Benjamin said, his grin so big his ears wiggled beneath his red ball cap. “I love dogs.”

  “Yeah,” Todd said. “Me, too.” And that had come as a surprise having never owned one before, but Lex was the closest thing to a friend he had right now.

  He glanced over at Indi again. She’d turned away, and Todd could tell her arms were crossed.

  “That is one ugly dog,” one of the reporters muttered.

  “Almost as ugly as his owner,” Todd thought he heard Indi mutter.

  “WHY ARE YOU SO MAD?” Linda said after scooting next to Indi on the seat. “I told you, his PR rep cleared everything with me.”

  They were in the very back of a stretch golf cart. At least that’s what Indi called it. The canvas-topped vehicle had four rows of seats—Todd and Benjamin were in the second row and Todd’s PR assistant sat next to the driver. Indi had made sure to put a row of empty seats between them.

  “They should have never posed the question to you in the first place,” Indi said as they headed out of the driver/owner parking lot. She’d refrained from maligning Todd to various reporters because she prided herself on her professionalism. “The man ought to be shot for siccing the press on you and Benjamin.”

  “Benjamin was excited about talking to the media.”

  “Benjamin doesn’t understand he’s being used.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “I recognize his ilk.”

  “You said last night he was nice.”

  “I was wrong.”

  Linda stared at her a long moment. “Did Todd make a pass at you?”

  That was so close to the truth Indi’s cheeks filled with color. She tried to hide it by turning her head and pretending interest in the tall grandstands to their left.

  “He did, didn’t he?” Linda cooed. “I’ll be damned.”

  “Linda—”

  “Did he kiss you?”

  Indi refused to answer, but that turned out to be a mistake, because Linda pounced on her silence like a district attorney would a guilty defendant. “He did, didn’t he? Indi, that’s terrific.”

  “Are you crazy?” Indi asked, swiveling toward her, and grateful Todd was too far away to hear their conversation. “Todd Peters is the last person on earth I should let kiss me.”

  They were slowing down due to a security station up ahead stopping cars from entering the infield tunnel. A single post traffic light glowed red.

  “Men like Todd can’t be trusted,” Indi mumbled, remembering the little blonde who’d shown up outside his motor coach.

  “You only say that because of what happened between you and that quarterback,” Linda said, placing a hand on Indi’s knee. “But you can’t judge every book by Sean’s cover.”

  Just hearing Sean’s name made Indi’s stomach turn over. She was about to set Linda straight, but the driver stopped and Indi realized Todd would hear them without the whine of the rotary engine filling their ears.

  They both grew silent. Indi glanced around. There were vehicles in front and behind them, a few of them passenger cars, their engines idling while they waited to be turned loose. It was cooler in the shadow of the racetrack that loomed up ahead of them. Racetracks looked like unfinished steel structures from the outside, Indi thought.

  “Did you hear me, Indi?” Linda said once the stop light turned green and they lurched forward again.

  “I heard you, but I’m still not going down that road again,” Indi said.

  Linda’s blond hair caught the light. Indi noticed it was now streaked with gray. When had that happened?

  “Indi, Sean was a fool,” Linda whispered.

  “Sean was a professional athlete, and like most pros, he couldn’t keep his wee-little-winkie in his pants. I learned that the hard way.”

  “It’d be different with someone else.”

  The sun disappeared. They’d entered the infield tunnel, and for a moment the echo of multiple engines made it impossible to hear inside the passageway. “That’s what I thought, too,” Indi said. “I knew the risks. I’d been a sports broadcaster long enough to know what went on behind the scenes of most pro sports. The players with the girlfriends in every town. The multiple cell phones—one for the wife, one for the mistress. Heck, sometimes they even have more than one condo in one town. I knew all that. Thought I was smarter than those other women. Thought the wool couldn’t be pulled over my eyes. Uh-uh.”

  They emerged from the tunnel like ants out of a hole and for a moment Indi was blinded. So was Linda, because she lifted a hand to shield her eyes, the wedding band on her finger scattering bright dots of light on the golf cart’s roof. When Indi’s eyes slowly regained focus she saw row upon row of empty seats—obviously, most people had yet to arrive—and the reflection of the sun against aluminum grandstands caused spots to dance before her eyes. Even though she told herself she could care less about racing, she still felt her interest pique as she glanced around her…until her gaze happened to fall on Todd sitting up ahead of her.

  He turned to her. His eyes were hidden by a pair of dark sunglasses, but she could tell by the tilt of his head that the look he shot her was quizzical. She turned away.

  “He might be different,” Linda said, leaning toward her.

  “Maybe, but I’m not about to find out.”

  Linda’s lips compressed into a thin line. They’d made it to the center of the track, where big rigs in all the shades of the rainbow sat in symmetrical rows—like soldiers at attention—their back ends opened up to reveal sliding glass doors and shiny chrome door frames.

  “Here we are,” Todd said.

  Indi braced herself for the abrupt stop that seemed inherent in golf carts.

  “Hey, it’s Todd Peters,” a heavyset woman said the moment they stopped, the fan’s camera bouncing against her white T-shirt that, oddly enough, bore the name and number of some other driver.

  “No autographs right now, ’kay,” Todd said. “Not until after I get little Benjamin here settled.”

  The woman immediately slowed. She smiled at Benjamin and said, “Lucky little boy,” then faded back.

  “You ready to go there, champ?” Todd asked. He headed toward the back of the cart where Benjamin’s wheelchair hung.

  “I’ve been ready for this my whole life.”

  Indi went cold. She caught Linda’s eyes and she knew the woman thought the same thing she did.

  How much longer would that life last?

  And here was the reminder she needed—there were more important matters at hand here today. This wasn’t about her. This was about Benjamin. Nothing else mattered.

  “Well, then, let’s go,” Todd said.

  They crossed through security, the entrance they used between an outbuilding of some sort and a chain-link fence. The garage seemed eerily quiet considering a race was scheduled for that evening. None of the cars were in their stalls, almost like racehorses who’d already left the gate. A few crew members moved equipment to an unknown location, probably pit road. There were still fans milling about, too, more than a few of them led around in tour formation. They were lined up like visitors to an amusement park, their group leader holding up a sign with a major corporation’s name on it. When he or she moved, so did the whole group. Indi thought they resembled a gaggle of ducks. The media was still around, as well. One or two reporters caught sight of Todd. They looked their way as if trying to determine whether they should pounce. Once they saw Benjamin, they didn’t.

  Other than Todd, however, it appeared as if most drivers were MIA. The NASCAR star moved along as if oblivious to the heads he turned. And perhaps he was.

  Benjamin, however, was in seventh
heaven. He kept pointing to the big rigs, his rear end wiggling in his chair. From time to time Indi would catch a glimpse of his profile. His face was wreathed in smiles.

  “I’ve never seen him so happy,” Linda said, hanging back so Todd and Benjamin could walk alone.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Oh, good,” Jen said. “I found you.”

  “You did, indeed,” Indi said, wondering where the PR rep had run off to the moment they’d arrived.

  “I was afraid you might have separated from Todd and Benjamin, but you didn’t, and so here you are and now I can schedule your meeting with Todd,” she said, looking at Indi.

  “Uh…What meeting with Todd?”

  “He said he wanted some alone time with you.”

  “Uh-huh,” Linda muttered. “He likes you.”

  Indi wanted to cover Linda’s mouth with her hands. “Alone time?” she asked instead. “Why?”

  “He didn’t say,” Jen said, her blond ponytail brushing her back as she consulted a clipboard. “He’ll be touring the garage with Benjamin for the next half hour. After that he’s off to a team meeting. Benjamin’s invited to go with him, by the way. He’s got another meeting after that, but you could have the slot between that and his visit to the media center.”

  “I don’t want any slot at all,” Indi said.

  “But—”

  “He never consulted me about a meeting.”

  “Really?” Jen asked. “Well, obviously it was important for Todd to meet with you today. He wouldn’t have asked me to pencil you in otherwise.”

  “Tell Todd to call me,” Indi said.

  “Let me just go ask him what this is about then.”

  “Fine. You do that,” Indi said. They’d stopped near the back of one of the haulers. Team members sat in director’s chairs lined up off the back, most of them with a paper plates of food in hand, and all of them staring curiously. The smell of steak and pasta wafted over, reminding Indi she hadn’t had a thing to eat today. “I’ll just go get myself some food. There’s a snack shack around here, right?”

  “Oh, we have food inside the hauler.”

  Indi ignored the woman. “I think we passed one on our way in and so I’ll just head that way.”

  “But—”

  Again, she ignored her. “I’ll be back in a flash.”

  Coward, Linda’s eyes mocked.

  Yeah, so maybe she was. Nothing wrong with that. Evasion was often an efficient way of avoiding conflict, and she’d been dodging men like Todd for years.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “WHERE IS SHE?” Todd asked as he took his cell phone back from Benjamin. He’d had to shout to be heard because the grandstands across from the infield were filled to capacity and the roar of the crowd was similar to the rumble of an ocean.

  “My mom says she’s hiding out near the media center. Oh, hey, look. There’s Lance Cooper,” the kid said, pointing. His grin was so wide it tipped up the brim of his red ball cap.

  “Hey, Lance,” Todd called, the blond-headed driver giving him a wave just before he climbed into the back of a minitruck.

  “Neat. He waved back.”

  “So he did,” Todd said, navigating Benjamin’s wheelchair between the front and back bumpers of maroon trucks. They were traveling through the garage, the vehicles lined up while they awaited the arrival of the drivers they’d ferry around the track for driver introductions. Todd had already done his bit, but there were still another twenty or so drivers left to go, which meant he had about ten minutes to find Indi because, so far, she’d done a good job of dodging him all afternoon.

  “Mom also said Indi’s been hiding there for over an hour and that she’s standing behind a stack of tires so it’s hard to see her unless you know she’s there.”

  “You know, I really like your mom,” Todd murmured, picking up the pace. The smell of food filled the air, many of the crews having set up barbecues so they could cook their evening meal. There were still more than a few fans in the garage, and a number of them tried to catch his attention, but he ignored them. No time to dawdle.

  “She thinks you’ve got a crush on Indi,” Benjamin added.

  “Is that what she said?”

  “She did.” And then, “There she is,” Benjamin said, pointing toward his mother. Linda waved, a wide smile on her face when she was once again reunited with her son.

  “Did you see me inside the truck?” he asked excitedly.

  “I did,” she said. “And I saw you wave, too.”

  “It was so cool,” Benjamin cried. “All those people in the grandstands staring at me, like they were wondering who I was. And it felt like the truck would tip over because the track was sloped so steep. I kept thinking the driver would duck down on the apron, but he didn’t.”

  “Sounds like you’re having a great time,” Linda said, sending Todd a grateful smile.

  “He is,” Todd said.

  “Well, good. Now,” she said to her son. “Let me push you around a bit while Todd goes and finds Indi.”

  “You going to be okay?” Todd asked. Fortunately, the sun had already started to sink below the horizon and so it wasn’t as hot as it had been earlier.

  “Are you kidding?” Benjamin asked. “I plan on asking for autographs as drivers pass by.”

  “What?” Todd asked, dying to dash off but reluctant to leave Benjamin. The little boy had gotten under his skin. “You mean you want other drivers to sign your race cards?”

  “Only so I can give them to the other kids at the hospital.”

  And it was comments like that which made Todd realize just how special Benjamin was. No wonder Indi was so committed.

  “Well, if you don’t get the ones you want, let me know. I’ll make sure they sign whatever you want.”

  “Cool. Thanks.”

  “Good luck,” Linda called as he turned away.

  “Yeah, I think I’m going to need it,” he muttered.

  He didn’t know why it was so important for to him to speak to Indi alone. If she thought him a jerk for using Benjamin to gain publicity, so be it. He knew the truth. But he still wanted to see her. Before the race, he admitted, scratching at his hand.

  That was odd.

  “Hey,” a female voice asked. “Where you off to in such a hurry?”

  Fortunately, it was a female Todd recognized and liked, at one point, a lot: Kristen McKenna. Funny, as he stared at her now all he felt was a tug of warmth that more resembled friendship.

  “I have a quick errand to run.”

  “Well, you better hurry,” she said, flicking a strand of blond hair away from her face. The ring on her finger caught the sunlight, but it didn’t cause the momentary pang of regret that it usually did. “They’re gonna want you in your car pretty soon.”

  “I know, I know,” he said, then muttered, “Mom.”

  “Be nice. I could have you fired, you know.”

  Yeah, she could. But she wouldn’t. She was their team engineer, and a consummate professional. “Hey, I’m not the one sleeping with the boss.” Although he’d hoped for something more from her. Ultimately, their boss and team owner, Mathew Knight, had won out.

  “You’re the one responsible for the two of us getting together.”

  “Yeah, but only because I expected a raise out of the whole deal.”

  She reached up and kissed him on his cheek. A few months back he would have given anything to have her kiss him. But that was last year and now she was Matt’s.

  “Good luck today,” she said. “Remember, if you don’t make the Chase, there’s always next year.”

  “I’d rather it be this year.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” she said with an impish smile. “I told Matt I’d marry him during the off-season if we won.”

  “Then I guess I’ll have to win,” he said, and he meant it. He truly wished her and Matt nothing but happiness.

  They parted company, Todd undoing the collar of his driver’s suit. The familiar Fly For Less logo
was a beacon for race fans and so he kept hearing his name as he dashed through the chain-link area that kept those without garage passes off pit road. But he kept his eyes lowered. The only time he looked up was when he passed the fueling area. The media center was just past it.

  And there she was.

  She did a good job of staying out of sight, too. If he hadn’t known exactly where she was, he wouldn’t have seen her cowering there behind a whole row of stacked-up tires near the chain-link fence that surrounded the media center. Only her head was visible, her focus seeming to be fixed upon the activity on pit road. She didn’t see him approach. That was good. It meant she didn’t have time to escape.

  He took care to keep out of her line of sight before whispering “Boo” in her right ear.

  She jumped about a foot. Todd resisted the urge to smile. And to chuckle in self-satisfaction.

  He’d caught her.

  “Thought you could avoid me, huh?” he asked, giving her an eyebrow wiggle.

  Her lips didn’t so much as twitch.

  “Nice hiding spot,” he said, fingering a rubber tire. The black surface was still hot, the car number written on the firewall indicating they belonged to one of the Roush teams.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked. He saw her glance behind her, but the tires blocked her in so completely she had no place to go.

  He shrugged and followed her former line of sight. She’d been watching a camera crew film a pit road report of some sort.

  “Since you wouldn’t come to me, I thought I’d come to you.”

  “Really? Too bad. I was just about to go get myself a soda.”

  “Don’t do that,” he said before she could dash past him. “There’s really no need to hide from me.”

  She looked about to deny it, but he saw her lips press together, then her shoulders slumped. “What do you want?”

  “To tell you I wasn’t responsible for alerting the media about Benjamin. Jen did that.”

  “I know. Linda told me. So you’re off the hook. Have a great race.”

  He stepped in front of her again. “Hey, an apology would be nice.”