Page 22 of Wrecking Boundaries (SteelTrack Racing #2)

BP Racing Headquarters, North Carolina

“Much better outdoors, isn’t it?” Bert asks me.

I agree, despite having no strong opinion either way. “Is there a reason we aren’t talking in your office?”

We sit opposite each other on a park bench near the pit crew’s practice area. They’re on gym duty, which gives us the privacy we need.

“Thin walls,” Bert says. He uses the flat of his hand as a fan. “I should have located our headquarters further north.”

“Maybe your next one,” I say with a soft smile. “News articles are coming out.”

“You saw that, did you? It’ll be the buzz before the day ends.” Bert bows his head and sighs. “I can’t offer you a contract extension.”

There’s genuine hurt in his voice, and I itch to take Bert’s hand to comfort him, except we’ve never had that sort of relationship, and the gesture would probably be unwelcome.

“Bert, I wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for you,” I say, hoping he hears the sincerity in my words and voice. “You wanted to tell me first.”

He nods. “Our building’s thin walls mean conversation carries, and there are spies everywhere, or there will be soon.”

After nearly fourteen years of working with him, I’m strangely calm. “Thank you for telling me yourself. What will you do? ”

“Retire, like we all eventually do. Go fishing. Maybe find out what it’s like to watch a race at home.” Bert’s smile is meant to reassure, but there’s only defeat on the slope of his shoulders. His skin is oddly pale.

He divorced several years ago and never had children. Retirement means a long and lonely road for him.

“I hear fishing is healthier than yoga,” I say because it sounds true or could be true. “You’ve earned it, Bert.”

He doesn’t respond, which is not what I expected him to do. Not everyone wants to dwell on their misery, and I respect that. “This here is for you.” Bert swipes a business card from his front pocket. The corner is bent on two sides, covering up the logo. “ Top Row Racing will announce a retirement next week, freeing up a car.”

He hands the business card over, and I see Top Row Racing’s president’s name in bold letters. “You found me a new seat,” I say. Gratitude fills me, mixing with a numb sensation, so I’m unsure what to feel. “They’re one of the best teams out there. Their tech and hired staff are both fantastic. Drivers beg to get on there.”

“You can’t act until the announcement is formal, so don’t go calling him yet,” Bert warns. “But they’re interested, and the ride will be yours if you want it.”

The offer means Bert went pleading on my behalf. It’s a great team, and my crew would be well cared for. Their headquarters is also a three-hour drive from Rivers Motorsports. I don’t want Sarah to pick, and I don’t want to be so far away. Signing with them also means giving up my dream for several more years.

A dream with no way to come true, so it may not matter. I need a seat to keep my career going, no matter where the ride comes from.

“I thought you brought me out here because of the argument with Boone Rivers,” I say, suddenly wanting to change the subject.

“Racing gets your blood up and doesn’t turn off when you step outside the car. We’ve all been there,” Bert says. “I raced his father back in the day. Scary son of a bitch. The boy is no different from the father.”

“He doesn’t frighten me,” I say. Boone Rivers annoys me, which is entirely different.

“No reason why he should,” Bert says.

“I could intimidate him.”

“No, Jake, you could not.” Bert rises, so he’s standing over me. “You’re both damned good, some of the best talent I’ve ever seen. The truth is, I think you might even be better, but you won’t ever scare him; he doesn’t frighten. You could earn his respect, now that you could do. You’re an ambitious man, Jake. We both know you’re always thinking of what’s next. You might think about how to end the disagreement between you two.”

We say our goodbyes, and he leaves me sitting on the park bench.

I’ve been punched in the gut.

∞∞∞

I find Derek sitting in my office chair, feet up on the desk.

“You heard the rumors?” he asks me. He doesn’t bother with a greeting, which is fine because he rarely does.

“It’s everywhere,” I confirm, not wanting to give away my conversation with Bert. “We’ll land somewhere else. You don’t need to worry.”

“I’m not going to worry, not yet.” Derek’s stoicism hides any concerns he may have. “Promise you’ll check with me before signing somewhere.”

“Fair enough. You know I wouldn’t go anywhere unless you came along, right?”

“We have the rest of the season, plenty of time to see what’s next,” Derek says.

His casual statement throws me. The rest of the season applies to us both, but the casually uttered part about time doesn’t. He’s been with me for every Cup Series race. Where else would he go?

“Are you leaving motorsports behind?”

He grins. “And do what? I don’t have a wife or kids begging me to stay home.” Derek’s lips twist into a satisfied sneer. He’s long put himself in the bachelor for life category; claiming more responsibility is another problem to deal with. “Let’s just say I’ll grant you first right of refusal.”

My eyes narrow at his evasive comment. “I won’t accept anything if it means leaving you behind,” I promise him.

“I know, Jake, but this also might open a surprise we don’t see coming. I don’t want to miss it, you know?”

He’s remarkably confident. “I get you,” I say, even though that isn’t true.

“Good, because I have exciting news.” He swings my computer monitor around for me to see. “Your forbidden girlfriend is stepping out.”

“You went through my DMs.” I glare but give up after realizing he enjoys it. “She wants to meet Martin for dinner?”

Fuck.

“So, what are you going to do?” Derek leans back in the chair, enjoying my discomfort.

“I’ll send you. ”

“She knows what I look like.”

“We can perm your hair,” I say, knowing it’s a pathetic attempt to keep the ruse going.

Sarah asks me for time and space and then asks Martin for dinner. I wouldn’t be staring at a DM if that accident didn’t happen. We were on the verge of everything, and then I wrecked her brother. Was she going to tell me? Her avoiding me may come from past events, and all the trust we built just wasn’t enough.

Fuck.

Fucking Martin doesn’t even exist. He’s a bland, boring, sad sack loser. He’s not assertive enough to ask her out, not even for a cup of coffee.

Derek doesn’t even acknowledge my idea. “Looks like you have yourself in a real pickle there, sport.”

“Stop enjoying this,” I say while panic fills me, and then I smile as the solution hits. “It’s the answer I’ve been looking for. What sort of place would Martin pick for a first date? Someplace awful, right?”

I type a response and send it.

∞∞∞

Martin chose a chain restaurant known for its mediocre service and poor food. It’s an excellent choice. Sarah’s familiar Subaru is parked ten spaces away, and she doesn’t know I’m waiting for the right time.

She’s avoided me for three days. Long enough to realize we belong together.

My phone rings, and I pick it up. “Josie,” I say without preamble .

My little sister has called every day this week to complain, and the problems are all ones I can’t solve.

“Mom grounded me. Again.”

She probably snuck out. Again. “I’ll be there Friday. Can’t talk,” I say and hang up.

Josie calls back, so I send her to voicemail.

I should have gone home weeks ago. My career and Sarah have distracted me this season. If I want it, a ride for next season is secured, plus Sarah and I will be back together tonight. With those problems solved, I can handle everything at home, too.

Sighing, I rub my temples.

Rainbows out of my ass. That’s the critical part.

I enter the restaurant and find Sarah sitting in a booth with her back to me.

She’s sitting alone, which is expected, but the way she swirls a full glass of ice water bothers me. Her date with Martin started ten minutes ago, and she’s been waiting for a man who doesn’t exist.

Guilt pricks at me. Martin solved a problem for me, and now he needs to go away. It was supposed to be done via a polite farewell message from her, not him standing her up like some coward.

I square my shoulders and approach. Instinct says not to touch, so I don’t, sitting opposite her instead.

Sarah’s eyes bulge, and her hands go to her lap. “Jake?”

“Hey, Princess.”