Page 60 of The Player Penalty
“I was asked to tell you to wait here,” Sarah says from where she sits on the pit wall. Her husband and Robert Deere are busy talking.
“It’s good to see you again.” It’s the first time in over a week. After looking for her in their new offices, I wondered if she avoided me. “We need to talk.”
“I’m a happily married woman, Julian. You’ve come too late.”
I roll my eyes at the obvious bait. “We both know I don’t eat from the office break room.”
Sarah cranes her neck and snorts. “Is that what you’re calling it? Okay, wonderful talk. Let’s do this again soon.” She delivers sarcasm nearly as well as her brother.
I stare at my pretend watch. “Would you look at that? It’s soon. Stay out of my private life. It’s off limits.”
“White looks good on her, doesn’t it?”
“Not answering that.”
Sarah briefly considers and jumps down. She’s tall enough to nearly meet my eyes straight-on. “You realize this means I’ll do it even more, right? No other woman has gotten to you before.” She pokes my chest. “Lily did. Very fascinating.”
“We’re friends.”
“Yes, that’s your pet phrase. Say it louder so everyone in the stands can hear it, too.”
She thinks this is about me, a refusal to acknowledge we’re dating or seeing each other. This isn’t like my past relationships, because I don’t have any. Once a woman even breathes the word, I’m gone.
My life has amused Sarah for a long time, and she believes Lily adds to it. “Leave her be.”
“I’m not the one who drooled over her in a white dress.”
Gross. “I didn’t drool.”
Sarah puts her hands on her hips. It’s an old gesture, the one that says she’s right, and you’re wrong. “This is for your own good, Julian. Trust me, I know what’s best.”
“Best for what?” Jake asks. He approaches and puts an arm over her shoulders.
I get it, dude. She’s yours. It’s fine. I’m not interested.
Fucking hell. Does everyone think I’m plotting to get into another woman’s underwear?
“I’ve decided Julian needs my help,” Sarah says.
Jake’s eyes light up. “Your problem is solved, then. She’s amazing, isn’t she?” He pulls her even closer, away from me. “We have a fun evening planned. A relaxing dinner and a movie. See you in the morning and enjoy your…. uh… nightlife.”
∞∞∞
Every race is an excuse for a party weekend, especially Talladega. It’s infamous for all-night parties, women dancing shirtless, endless drinking, and all the other fun that ends in a hangover.
I tear off the damp paper from the brown bottle and take another small sip.
“Not thirsty?” Matteo asks.
“It’s a busy weekend for me. A headache can interfere with my plans.” Not all of my plans take place behind the wheel, either. Lily flies in tomorrow morning.
Matteo leans against the bench and puts his foot up on the seat. “You’re second in points. You intend to stay up there this weekend?”
This is Boone Rivers’ track. He’s won this race two years in a row, and every motorsports reporter has listed him as their favorite. Betting markets agree. “This track and I don’t always get along.” Then again, I know how the tires will perform, which gives me an advantage.
Matteo doesn’t hear me. A pair of blonde women are more interesting than my latest racing strategy. He raises his bottle, acknowledging them, and they approach.
“I’m Staci,” one of them says to me. “You don’t remember, but we met last year. You signed my chest.”
