Page 164 of Happy Hour

“I know.” He sighed again. “It’s just not the same when you’re not here with me.”

“Only another week and we get to see each other.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” He let out another long sigh. “It’s the only thing that keeps me going right now.”

“You’re such a cheese ball.” I giggled again taking some left over pizza out of the fridge. “What will people think of you now, all domesticated?”

“I know, but I love you. And I don’t give a shit what anyone thinks.” Louder noises echoed in the garage. Kyle was telling him he was needed but he ignored him for the moment. “Phillip called...”

“Yeah, what did he say?” Placing two slices of the pizza in the microwave, I had to lean against the door to keep it closed. Yet another thing Lucas broke this week. “How’d the prehearing conference go?”

“Chelsea didn’t show,” Jameson gave a relieved chuckle. “her lawyer said she’s dropping all charges.”

“That’s great, Jameson. Now we just have to worry about Darrin.”

That was a huge relief. The last thing Jamesonneededright now would be for his fans to think he was some kind of asshole that went around sexually assaulting women.

“You let me worry about Darrin.” He stated firmly. “I don’t want you involved in this.”

The last thing Jamesonwantedwas for me to get involved in his problems, particularly when it came to Darrin. But as I said before, when it came to Jameson, this pigizzle knew no bounds.

Since I wasn’t able to attend the race that weekend, I settled for watching it on television. Jameson’s engine blew up for the second weekend in a row after only seventy laps.

The camera shot to him pulling himself from the car. He sat on the edge, his head resting against the roof for a moment before he swung his legs around.

I wanted to be there so bad in that moment. He looked disappointed in himself though it had nothing to do with him.

I continued to watch until they interviewed him, smiling once I saw his face on television. Even though he was upset, it was still good to see him.

“Jameson,” the reporter caught up with him as he exited the garage. “Looks like you were giving the team feedback there. Can you tell us what happened?”

He sighed heavily, running his hand across the back of his sweaty neck. “I had about four laps there where I thought something was wrong but I don’t know; it just blew up. It was running 290 most of the race so it was only a matter of time.”

“This is the second week in a row you’ve blown up, with yet another DNF. How is this affecting the team moral? Do you think it has something to do with the engines at Riley Simplex Racing? Or maybe with Harry Sampson?”

“This hasnothingto do with the cars we are provided each weekorall the hard work our engine specialist, Harry Sampson, puts into the testing of these Ford engines provided by CST.” Jameson snapped back. “We have excellent cars and engines. This is obviously something else entirely.” Before Jameson could say any more, Alley was dragging him away.

The engines weren’t the problem and with his grandpa building the engines for his team, Harry maintaining them, I knew what he was insinuating with that comment. I had a hunch he was right.

Darrin.

It was hard to imagine Darrin would be able to get near the car at the track. There was usually always someone from the team nearby but itwasn’timpossible.

If Jameson was right about the Charlotte and the fuel additive, it definitely wasn’t impossible for Darrin or his team to be fooling with their engines too.

As his pigizzle and my duties as his pigizzle, I decided to try and make him feel better by sending him a picture of the funbags.

Would it make you feel better if I showed you my boobs?

It took a while to get a response, exactly forty-three minutes.

Maybe. Show me and let’s see.

I attached the picture to the text and clicked send feeling slightly childish sending a picture of my boobs through a text message. It was another eleven minutes and I hadn’t heard anything so I sent another one.

Did it work?

Another three minutes later, he finally responded:Sorry...I had to take care of a problem you created but Spencer wouldn’t leave.

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