Page 17 of Access

Paco swiped his badge, and the gate slid open. He revved the car forward. The road curved, opening to a clearing in the deep vegetation, which revealed a private runway with several hangars far ahead. He parked the car, and opened both doors with the press of a button. They exited, and Madison headed nervously to the driver’s side. Paco helped her in and was about to close the driver’s door when Madison stopped him. “Wait, I don’t know how to drive a standard.”

“Yes, you and ninety-two percent of America. Lambos are all automatic. The highest performance automatic on the planet, in my opinion.” Paco closed the door. Madison didn’t want to look too scared, but her anxiety crept up at the thought she might do something wrong. Paco sat down in the passenger seat and closed his door.

He ran through a crash course on the mechanics of the display and functions, but clearly recognized that Madison felt out of her comfort zone with the idea of driving such a massive piece of machinery. He leaned to her, and she looked intently at him.

“Miss Madison, before you start driving there are three things I need you to understand. One, we’re on a private runway in the middle of fucking nowhere. You can’t hurt anyone or anything. And you couldn’t flip this baby if you tried. Okay?”

“Yes, okay,” Madison said, deliberately lowering her shoulders with a sigh of relief.

“Two, I’m not just going to let you drive so you get a quick high like we’re at an amusement park. I want to teach you a few tricks with this car, share with you some really cool shit, but you need to listen to me very carefully and trust me without question. Okay?”

“Okay,” Madison nodded in confirmation. “And three?”

“Three. The gloves you’re wearing aren’t just to keep your grubby little hands from mucking up my steering wheel. That’s just half the reason.” Madison exaggerated her eye roll. “Those gloves were previously owned by the remarkable Cha-Cha Muldowney, also known as the First Lady ofDrag Racing. She’d go from a dead stop to 226 feet in five-and-a-half seconds. Breaking 260 miles per hour in a hot pink car, kicking ass and looking damn good doing it. She was brave in the face of adversity, and fierce to those who dared go up against her. Channel her spirit and glamour at all times when you drive this car. I certainly do. Got it?”

“Yes,” Madison stated more emphatically, getting into Paco’s bad ass persona. She started the engine, and, although she’d felt it before, it startled her and she giggled aloud. Taking command of her breathing, she looked over at Paco with his insistent nod of get it girl approval, and she peeled out, squealing with delight as the car hit ninety miles per hour in seconds.

“More!” Paco demanded, and she hit 120 miles per hour before slowing, flipped a U-turn, and quickly ramped up past 130 in no time. Her face locked into a freeing ear-to-ear smile. She slowed at the end of the runway, breathless with exhilaration, and Paco motioned with his hand for her to go ahead and stop.

“Ever heard of a J-turn?” Paco inquired.

“No, but I’m familiar with a three-point-turn. Is it like that?”

“Yes,” Paco exclaimed excitedly. “Think of it as a three-point-turn without the middle point. We’re going to start in reverse. When you get to about thirty-five miles per hour, you’re going to whip the steering wheel like this without letting up on the gas, to lock the front wheels, and then yank hard the exact opposite way, and as soon as you’re 180-degrees from the direction you were in, pop it into drive and accelerate. Got it?”

Madison looked at him, realizing the depth of his lunacy. “No, not at all. I have no idea what you just said.”

“Cool, then this will be way more fun than I thought. Oh, and if we really want some fun ...” he opened the glove compartment and pulled out a satin blindfold, “... one of us can wear this!” He started putting on the blindfold, when Madison yanked his arm down. “Oh, you want it, okay!” He leaned over to put it on Madison, and she quickly backed away. But Paco reminded her, “You said you’d trust me implicitly. Go ahead, put it on.”

Madison timidly took the blindfold and put it on. Though she originally had her eyes closed, she opened them, shocked by the discovery. “Wait, I can see through these. Or have you somehow bestowed me with the power of X-ray vision?”

“Yes, you can now see through them. Lesson one: things aren’t always what they seem, or as scary as they appear. Okay, give me those back, I’m going to need them for a little fun-time later.” He replaced them in the glove box, as Madison caught sight of a pair of fuzzy handcuffs.

Did I just see what I thought I saw? Probably, but I’m not asking.

“So, let’s go over this one more time, and then give it a try. In reverse, start driving and when you get to thirty-five miles per hour, grab the steering wheel like so, yank hard, and then yank in the opposite direction when you complete the turn, lock the wheels, shift into drive, then accelerate to the end of the runway. Ready?”

“As ready as I’m gonna be.” Madison began reversing. At the pivotal speed, she started yanking the steering wheel, but Paco pulled it more forcefully. As she spun, she then yanked it in the opposite direction just as forcefully, locking the wheels without needing Paco’s assistance. He returned his hand to his lap. She was then facing the opposite direction, popped it into drive, and floored it, propelling the precision machine to 135 miles per hour before slowing to a stop. Her heart pounded out of her chest. “Oh my God, that was incredible!”

“You did pretty good. Ready to try again on your own?”

“Yes!”

“Then pull up there, let me out, and let’s see you do it.” She nodded, smiling in a giddy, get-to-ride-the-roller-coaster-again way. She did as instructed, then stopped. He got out and leaned down to say, “Do it twice. Once going down there, then once coming back. Go really freaking fast and hurry up. If I break a sweat out here, I’ll be super cranky.” He shut the door.

Madison got the car into position, starting in reverse. Bond. Madison Bond. She gave the Lambo some gas, going for broke. With Paco watching, the Lamborghini moved with familiar comfort as she executed the maneuver twice, once down, and once back up. And like all good roller-coaster rides, the buildup climbed to the point of full-throttle, and in seconds, was over. She returned to pick up Paco.

Although she pulled up right next to him, he feigned utter annoyance, and walked over to the driver side. As the door rose, she saw his Louboutin Greggo Orlato Flat foot tapping. His arms were folded, and he released one hand from the fold to dramatically lower his sunglasses over his nose. “You may have kicked-ass with that last J-turn, but this ain’t your car, Miss M.” He smiled, releasing his vexed façade, and offered his hand to help her out, which she quickly accepted. She tried holding her composure, but once out of the car, bounced gleefully to the passenger side.

Heading off the runway and out of the access-point, Paco started saying, “And that leads us to lesson two: you’re capable of more than you think. There are great things in store for you. Trust your instincts, and let them come.”

“So, do you prefer Yoda or Sensei? Um, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, because this was utterly amazing, but why did you teach me all this?”

For the first time since their meeting, Paco looked somber, and all his Botox and fillers couldn’t hide his sudden and noticeable mood swing.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, it’s just my RBF,” he said, forcing a smile.

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