Page 65 of Happy Hour

“Where’s Jameson?” I heard him ask Alley.

“Where else...the NASCAR hauler,” Alley answered, her Blackberry attached to her ear once again. “He’ll be back any minute.”

“Oh goddamn him.” Jimi grumbled walking towards Kyle and Mason who were changing out the hoods. “Is he trying to set some sort of record for the amount of times he’s in there this year?”

Gentry nudged me nodding his head at the hood.

“Shut up.” I backhanded his shoulder. “Don’t you have work to do?”

He never answered, just smiled twirling a wrench in his hand.

Gentry, was the type of guy who loved to make you squirm with embarrassment, kind of like Kyle and Spencer.

Let’s just say he fit in well with these goons.

“What did he do this time?” Jimi asked looking to us for an answer.

“I didn’t do anything,” I heard Jameson’s even tone coming from behind me. “Darrin started it.” He answered sharply and began assisting the crew.

He still seemed angry, but his mood improved when he walked past me and winked.

Why am I so turned on by winking?

“Jesus ChristJameson,” Jimi was pacing back and forth by now while Alley filled him in. “I swear you need anger management.”

“Do not.” Jameson barked from under the hood but didn’t look up.

“He’s also being fined five thousand for that little stunt he pulled last night on the track.” Alley added.

“What?” Jimi yelled over the shrill of the engine they’d just started.

Even now, Jameson didn’t look up but it wasn’t hard to see the smile when he snuck a quick peek at me.

What was I doing?

Giggling of course.

“Whatstunt on the track?” Jimi growled towards Jameson.

“It was nothing,” Jameson eluded with a shrug.

Jimi wasn’t acceptingthatas answer so Jameson continued. “I took Sway for a ride around the track. I cleared it with Gordon first,” he defended. “but...I did a burn out.Apparently, I wasn’t supposed to.”

“You did what?” Jimi scorned—his face flushed with anger. “What would you have done if you wrecked out there? You could have killed her.”

“I didn’t though.”

“Youneverthink about anybody but yourself, do you?” Jimi was in Jameson’s face by now while the rest of us watched their disagreement.

This happened often and usually ended with one, or both of them, yelling and then walking away.

Jameson threw the hammer he had in his hand against the back of the hauler. “Don’teverquestion my concern for Sway’s safety.” He yelled in his dad’s face. “I was careful.”

Air tools and hammers seized as the paddock silenced.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and gaped at them, standing within inches of each other.

I knew Jameson would never actually hit Jimi, but I questioned it a time or two. Now was one of those instances.

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