Page 37
Story: Fake for 7 days
"I've already thought of that," I grumbled, looking around irritably. "Where's that damn Tony?" I blurted out. At this moment, I wanted nothing more than to change the subject. Getting engaged to Abigail might be the most sensible thing to do and solve all my problems in one fell swoop, but Isabella Abbott's body was haunting my thoughts. Adventure, fun, passion, and eroticism - all things I wouldn't experience even remotely with Abigail. If I had to get engaged anyway, even if just for show, couldn't I at least have some fun with it? Besides, Donovan Hayden Ellesmere shouldn't think for a second that he could boss me around so easily.
At that moment, a loud squeal sounded from the other side of the helicopter, and moments later a golf cart with Tony at the wheel appeared in front of us.
"Finally! Where have you been for so long?" I grumbled. "We're paying a horrendous membership fee here. But certainly not to stand around waiting. I come to theExclusive Long Island Motorsport Clubto do motorsports."
"Sorry you had to wait so long." Tony sounded a bit out of breath. "This stupid cart wouldn't start. And the other one's in the shop for repairs right now." While Tony was speaking, Don and I had already climbed aboard. Tony hit the gas. The cart squealed and made other undefinable noises.
"You've got to be kidding me, right? We pay you a ton of money and you only have two decrepit carts that then decide to give up the ghost at almost the same time? You really should invest in some new equipment. What are you doing with all the membership fees? Lining your own pockets?"
"Now hold on a minute," Tony said angrily. "If you're mad because something's going wrong in your life, you can take out your aggressions on the track. I'm not the right address for that."
"I'm not taking out any aggressions! I'm just telling you what needs improvement here. You should be grateful for that! If you don't offer good service, you'll lose members sooner or later!"
By now, we had arrived in front of the clubhouse. Don, Tony, and I jumped off the cart almost simultaneously. Our quads were ready on the gravel area in front of the long wooden building. Don's blue one on the right, my black one on the left. At the sight, I grinned, reconciled, and looked at Tony.
"No threat, man. Like I said. You just might need to rethink your business strategy." I patted Tony on the shoulder. "After all, you want to attract new members, right? Every year, a bunch of nouveau riche move from Manhattan to Long Island. They're all potential customers for you. But they don't know you as long as I do, so they'll judge you mainly on their first impressions."
"Hm," Tony said thoughtfully. Then he changed the subject without further addressing my words. I knew him long enough to know that he would think about it and eventually follow my advice. Probably, we'd be picked up in a brand new cart on our next visit.
"Cameron was here yesterday," Tony said now.
I frowned. "Could he sneak away from his fiancée for a few hours?" I couldn't resist this question.
"His wedding is soon, but it's not long until the club race either. He trained hard on the track." Tony looked at me intently.
"And I'm going to do the same now! That's why we're here, Don and I." I straightened my shoulders. Tony surely wasn't trying to suggest that Cameron would win the club race? I wouldn't give my brother a chance here either!
"His time was pretty good." Tony wouldn't let up.
"Mine will be better," I countered. "Come on, Don!" With these words, I turned my back on Tony and walked towards my quad.
About ten minutes later, the silence on the off-road track was broken by the engines of our quads. Don and I had the track to ourselves, and THAT was really to my liking. TheExclusive Long Island Motorsport Clubwas now living up to its name.
"Wooohoowwww," I shouted loudly as I chased my quad along the narrow track between the closely spaced trees and took a hairpin turn at the greatest possible speed. Now came a hill that I just flew over. Then a long straight stretch. I accelerated.
But what was that?
Instead of the rich engine sound that I loved so much on my quad, I suddenly heard a squealing and screeching that rivaled that of the golf cart. Just milliseconds later, the quad's engine started to sputter, and I got slower and slower. Just before I came to a stop, I pulled over.
"What the hell is this crap!" I yelled angrily, jumped off my seat, tore the helmet off my head, and hurled it violently to the ground.
At that moment, Don appeared behind me. I had left him behind. He wasn't nearly as good a quad rider as I was. In the entireExclusive Long Island Motorsport Club, probably in the whole state, there was only one person who could hold a candle to me. That was my brother Cameron. I desperately wanted to beat him. But with a quad that squealed and screeched like an old steam engine, I wouldn't succeed.
Don braked and stopped next to me.
"I pay a ton of money here to ensure the quad is always in top technical condition! And then this happens! I'm just left stranded! This can't be happening!" I hurled at Don. The vein at my temple began to pulse.
"Better now than during the race," Don replied calmly. "Just hop on the back of mine. I'll let Tony know so he can pick up the quad." With these words, Don opened his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. While he spoke with Tony, I picked up my helmet from the ground. But then anger overcame me again. Tony should damn well do his job properly! I needed to be able to rely on him! Once more, I hurled the helmet to the ground and kicked the trunk of a nearby tree with my boots.
"We'll wait here for Tony," I ordered when Don had finished the call. "I don't trust him anymore. I want to see him take care of the quad."
"Alright," Don replied. He knew me well enough to understand that any discussion with this tone would lead nowhere.
"What made you grin earlier?" he asked now. "It surely wasn't Abigail's father or your grandmother."
At this question, the anger suddenly left my body and a pleasant tension came over me.
"Oh... I had an accident last night," I explained to Don.
At that moment, a loud squeal sounded from the other side of the helicopter, and moments later a golf cart with Tony at the wheel appeared in front of us.
"Finally! Where have you been for so long?" I grumbled. "We're paying a horrendous membership fee here. But certainly not to stand around waiting. I come to theExclusive Long Island Motorsport Clubto do motorsports."
"Sorry you had to wait so long." Tony sounded a bit out of breath. "This stupid cart wouldn't start. And the other one's in the shop for repairs right now." While Tony was speaking, Don and I had already climbed aboard. Tony hit the gas. The cart squealed and made other undefinable noises.
"You've got to be kidding me, right? We pay you a ton of money and you only have two decrepit carts that then decide to give up the ghost at almost the same time? You really should invest in some new equipment. What are you doing with all the membership fees? Lining your own pockets?"
"Now hold on a minute," Tony said angrily. "If you're mad because something's going wrong in your life, you can take out your aggressions on the track. I'm not the right address for that."
"I'm not taking out any aggressions! I'm just telling you what needs improvement here. You should be grateful for that! If you don't offer good service, you'll lose members sooner or later!"
By now, we had arrived in front of the clubhouse. Don, Tony, and I jumped off the cart almost simultaneously. Our quads were ready on the gravel area in front of the long wooden building. Don's blue one on the right, my black one on the left. At the sight, I grinned, reconciled, and looked at Tony.
"No threat, man. Like I said. You just might need to rethink your business strategy." I patted Tony on the shoulder. "After all, you want to attract new members, right? Every year, a bunch of nouveau riche move from Manhattan to Long Island. They're all potential customers for you. But they don't know you as long as I do, so they'll judge you mainly on their first impressions."
"Hm," Tony said thoughtfully. Then he changed the subject without further addressing my words. I knew him long enough to know that he would think about it and eventually follow my advice. Probably, we'd be picked up in a brand new cart on our next visit.
"Cameron was here yesterday," Tony said now.
I frowned. "Could he sneak away from his fiancée for a few hours?" I couldn't resist this question.
"His wedding is soon, but it's not long until the club race either. He trained hard on the track." Tony looked at me intently.
"And I'm going to do the same now! That's why we're here, Don and I." I straightened my shoulders. Tony surely wasn't trying to suggest that Cameron would win the club race? I wouldn't give my brother a chance here either!
"His time was pretty good." Tony wouldn't let up.
"Mine will be better," I countered. "Come on, Don!" With these words, I turned my back on Tony and walked towards my quad.
About ten minutes later, the silence on the off-road track was broken by the engines of our quads. Don and I had the track to ourselves, and THAT was really to my liking. TheExclusive Long Island Motorsport Clubwas now living up to its name.
"Wooohoowwww," I shouted loudly as I chased my quad along the narrow track between the closely spaced trees and took a hairpin turn at the greatest possible speed. Now came a hill that I just flew over. Then a long straight stretch. I accelerated.
But what was that?
Instead of the rich engine sound that I loved so much on my quad, I suddenly heard a squealing and screeching that rivaled that of the golf cart. Just milliseconds later, the quad's engine started to sputter, and I got slower and slower. Just before I came to a stop, I pulled over.
"What the hell is this crap!" I yelled angrily, jumped off my seat, tore the helmet off my head, and hurled it violently to the ground.
At that moment, Don appeared behind me. I had left him behind. He wasn't nearly as good a quad rider as I was. In the entireExclusive Long Island Motorsport Club, probably in the whole state, there was only one person who could hold a candle to me. That was my brother Cameron. I desperately wanted to beat him. But with a quad that squealed and screeched like an old steam engine, I wouldn't succeed.
Don braked and stopped next to me.
"I pay a ton of money here to ensure the quad is always in top technical condition! And then this happens! I'm just left stranded! This can't be happening!" I hurled at Don. The vein at my temple began to pulse.
"Better now than during the race," Don replied calmly. "Just hop on the back of mine. I'll let Tony know so he can pick up the quad." With these words, Don opened his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. While he spoke with Tony, I picked up my helmet from the ground. But then anger overcame me again. Tony should damn well do his job properly! I needed to be able to rely on him! Once more, I hurled the helmet to the ground and kicked the trunk of a nearby tree with my boots.
"We'll wait here for Tony," I ordered when Don had finished the call. "I don't trust him anymore. I want to see him take care of the quad."
"Alright," Don replied. He knew me well enough to understand that any discussion with this tone would lead nowhere.
"What made you grin earlier?" he asked now. "It surely wasn't Abigail's father or your grandmother."
At this question, the anger suddenly left my body and a pleasant tension came over me.
"Oh... I had an accident last night," I explained to Don.
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