Race To The Altar. Patricia Hagan
air, “I arrange your press parties and interviews. I do anything and everything I can to get you public exposure. I expect you to be on time and be cordial. And your first one is tonight.”
He quit leaning and stood to tower over her, anger rushing back. “No one told me anything about having to make an appearance tonight. This is short notice.”
“It’s not an appearance. I’m taking you and the crew out to dinner.”
“Mack and I always take the guys out the night before qualifying.”
“Well, surely you don’t mind me joining you and picking up the check. I’d like to get to know everybody. Besides, we’ll be doing a lot of things together from now on, so get used to it. I’m part of the team now.” She held out her hand. “What do you say we shake on it and try to start over?”
Rick knew he really had no choice.
Beyond her, he saw Mack motioning for him to take her hand.
The photographer was also watching and, worse, raised his camera and took a picture. No doubt he’d like his own sidebar to go with it to say trouble was brewing on the Castles team before the first race of the season.
Rick shook her hand. “Okay. We start over. But I still don’t want you hanging around any more than necessary.”
“Fine,” she said, biting back a sigh of relief. She did not want him to know she had been worried he wouldn’t cave. Actually, he hadn’t. Rick, she could tell, was a very dogged kind of guy. But he was willing to try, and, for the time being, that’s all she could hope for.
She urged him to please hurry and change for the pictures, then turned and walked back to the garage area.
Rick watched her go, her high, rounded hips swaying as she walked. He cursed himself as another heated wave rolled over him.
He had not been bragging when he’d talked about the groupies and how they came on to him. It was a known fact that some women were attracted to professional athletes, and race car drivers were included in that group. And, being single, he’d had more than his share chasing after him.
But, focused as he was on his career, he ignored all the women he came into contact with, from groupies to fans to beauty queens.
But not this one.
He wanted her.
Badly.
And he could never have her.
Therefore, she had to go.
And the way to do that, he decided as he headed for the drivers’ lounge and the showers, was to find a way to make her quit.
He figured it shouldn’t be too hard. After all, she didn’t look like the type who could take the extreme heat at certain tracks during the year, or the dirt and noise for very long.
Besides, it was hard living like gypsies, traveling to a different track almost every week. The NASCAR schedule currently consisted of thirty-four races, and sometimes a few got rained out. That meant running the next clear day, then heading for the next track right away.
One day he hoped to be successful enough to afford his own plane to travel the schedule like the hot dogs—a nickname given to the top drivers. Or at least a fancy motor home that could be used at the track.
If he could win the rookie-of-the-year title, good things were sure to follow. Other big sponsorships would come in, and there would be money for better engines, better parts. He could really be competitive, maybe even one day win the big one—the NASCAR championship. Then he could write his own ticket and never have to worry about money again. After all, there was not only money to be won but endorsements and his share of sales of licensed products bearing the likeness of him and the car.
For the time being, he and Mack were owners but knew—and hoped—success would bring a real team owner, or that they would be taken on by a sponsor fielding several teams. Life would be a whole lot easier. As things were, they worked on the car themselves at a rented garage just outside Charlotte, North Carolina, the acknowledged hub of the stock car racing world.
Rick had wanted to race since he was a kid. Now, with no family except a sister up north he seldom saw, he was truly on his own and really didn’t mind being a kind of gypsy. Sure, one day he’d like to be married and settle down, but everything had to happen according to plan. He could not let anything get in his way, especially a beautiful redhead that made him want to kiss her till they were both breathless.
He quickened his pace toward the lounge, because right then a cold shower was what he needed more than anything else.
Later he would figure out how to make Liz Mallory quit.
Because he’d be doing both of them a favor.
“I’m just real sorry things happened like they did,” Mack said to Liz while they were waiting for Rick. “He’s really a nice guy.”
“Till it comes to women at a racetrack,” Liz said. “And he has got to stop thinking that every woman who approaches him wants to go out with him. There are plenty of genuine female race fans who aren’t romantically interested in the drivers, though I realize it must be hard for someone as egotistical as Rick to believe that.
“And I mean it when I say he’s got to be polite to everyone,” she added firmly.
“Hey, you don’t have to worry about that. Maybe you were coming on too strong, because you wanted to find out as much as you could about Rick and about the team. Ever think about that?”
She hadn’t, but, now that she did, allowed that perhaps Mack had a point. After all, Rick had been working, and she’d tripped over him, causing him to bump his head. No doubt, that had put him in a bad mood. Then she hadn’t gone away when he told her to. “Okay.” She managed a smile. “I’ll agree maybe I came on too strong and let it go.”
“Good. And welcome to the team. Things will be okay, and we’ll all enjoy working together.”
“All set?” Pete called from where he was standing with the camera ready. “The light is good, so I hope he’ll hurry up.”
Suddenly Liz remembered to ask Mack, “Did the new uniforms arrive?”
“Yeah. For the whole crew, too. I have to tell you, we’re going to look good tomorrow. Those are sharp outfits.”
Moments passed. Liz kept glancing at her watch. They were still okay for time but would not be for long.
The noise in the garage area was deafening as drivers pulled off the track. Practice was over. Soon it would be time for the meeting.
“I’m taking everyone out to dinner tonight,” Liz told Mack once things quieted down so he could hear. “It will give us a chance to get to know one another.”
Mack frowned. “Well, that’s nice of you, Liz, but have you told Rick? I mean, he and I are partners and we’ve been the ones to foot most of the bills since we started the team. It’s always been sort of traditional that we take the guys out for steaks the night before qualifying. I don’t think they’d like to change to pizza.
“Oh, not that they don’t like pizza,” he added quickly, eyes worriedly searching Liz’s face in hopes he hadn’t said the wrong thing. “Especially Big Boy’s. That’s one of the reasons we were so tickled when they offered sponsorship, because it’s always been our favorite, and…” He drifted into silence, obviously embarrassed for going on so.
Liz understood and cheerily assured, “Hey, I understand. And there’s no rule that says every time I take the team out we go for pizza. I’ve got an expense account, and steaks work for me. The only thing I’ll change about your tradition is paying the bill. How’s that?”
Mack said it was fine, but Liz knew it wasn’t, because she could tell Rick hadn’t wanted her tagging along. Well, that was just too bad. He was going to have to get used to having her around, as well as her calling