Page 50 of Trip

“Oh, Cosette,” my mom’s chipper voice rang out, and I cringed. “I didn’t hear you come in last night. I thought you would be spending the night with Trip.”

“I’m not a child anymore. I don’t spend the night with anyone.”

“My apologies,” my mom scoffed. “Then what would you call it?”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t call it a sleepover,” I retorted, pouring myself a cup of coffee. “And for your information, I didn’t stay at Trip’s last night because we had a fight.” I took a cautious sip of the hot coffee, wincing as the bitter liquid hit my tongue.

“Oh, Cosette, what did you do now?” my mother asked, her voice taking on an edge of disappointment. “That young man will only take so much before he hightails to the next woman.”

I rolled my eyes, already tired of this conversation. “I’m not stopping him.”

Mitch, ever the peacemaker, jumped into the fray by changing the subject. “Thought you’d already be at the track since they are testing the engine today.”

I shrugged.

My mother raised an eyebrow, her giggle from moments ago a distant memory. “You’re not going to the track today? After all the hard work you put into your career. I never pegged you for a quitter, Cosette.”

I wasn’t a quitter. I never quit anything in my life.

I just refused to be somewhere I wasn’t wanted.

“Cosette, what is it?” my mom asked.

“Trip benched me.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I may have lost my temper and said a bunch of things I didn’t mean and stormed out.”

“Cosette, your temper will be the end of you.” My mother sighed, shaking her head. “You need to learn to control it, especially if you want to succeed in a man’s world.”

I rolled my eyes again, the bitterness of the coffee reflecting my mood. “I know, I know,” I muttered, taking another sip. “I just wish he’d trust me.”

“Maybe he’s waiting to see if you will trust him first,” my mother offered. “Trust goes both ways, Cosette.”

I snorted.

“I know,” I said, pushing away my half-empty cup. “Besides, it doesn’t matter because someone sent me a text and told me to stay away from the track today.”

Mitch gave me a curious look, and his eyes narrowed. “What text?”

I hesitated, not wanting to worry them, but knowing they deserved an explanation. “I got a strange text last night,” I began, turning to face them. “It just said, ‘Stay away from the track tomorrow.’ That’s all.”

“You know who sent it?” Mitch asked, looking down at his cup of coffee.

“No. Sender was unknown.”

“Then maybe you should listen to it,” Mitch cautiously said, getting to his feet. “If the track isn’t safe, I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

I stared at Mitch, confused. “Do you know something?”

The man shook his head. “Nope. Been out of the game for a while now. You know that.”

“You’re lying. What aren’t you telling me?”

“Seriously, C.C.,” Mitch gruffy replied, digging into his front pocket for his keys. “I don’t know anything. I need to get going. I will see you ladies later. Thank you for the coffee, Glorianna.”

“You’re welcome, Mitch.” My mother smiled up at him as he kissed her cheek and left.

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