“What the fuck, Shelby?” he says, his eyes wide as a jubilant laugh barrels out of him.
I turn off the ignition and climb out of the car. “I think that was decent. Do you think we should try it again just to be safe?”
“Decent? That was freaking insane. Where...how’d you learn to do that?” Ryan looks me up and down, like he’s expecting the answer to be written on my clothes.
Oh. I bite my lip and studiously avoid his gaze. I haven’t mentioned Daddy or running a shop to the team. I want them to see me, Shelby Elise, not Shelby Jensen, daughter of Hank, like everyone else always has. I may have to explain myself after all of that.
“I like cars,” I try, turning around to check out the freshly laid rubber in the parking lot.
“You like cars? Shelby, that’s like me coming out in full drag and saying I like makeup.”
I clutch my sides as I giggle at the thought of barrel-chested, pierced, and bearded Ryan in drag. “We can totally arrange that. I have a ton of makeup you can use, but you won’t fit in my clothes, that’s for sure.”
I do my own up and down perusal of him. He’s a good few inches or so taller than my five foot six, and wide through his shoulders and chest. He’s good-looking in a grungy, unsuspecting way. The lip piercing and thick plugged gauges in his ears give him a bad boy vibe, but getting to know him over the last few days has shown me what a softie he really is.
“No, seriously, how did you learn to do burnouts and stuff? Most girls don’t even know how to work a clutch, let alone how to rip a car around like that. It was fucking hot. Uh, the car, not you. Shit. You’re hot too, but...oh, fuck me. Jesus! Not like I want you to fuck me, just...shit, I’m done talking.” Ryan scrubs his reddening face and looks away. He sure blushes a lot for someone with a dark olive complexion.
I sigh, sobering as I work out a way to hide my identity while giving him a satisfactory answer. I pat him on the shoulder and hope he’s not too embarrassed by his verbal diarrhea.
“It’s okay, I get what you’re saying. I grew up around cars. My dad and brother are really into them, and I guess I was sort of like the second son and brought along for the fun.” I mentally pat myself on the back for only lying by omission. I can totally make the truth work—if I edit it slightly.
“Well, that makes you way cooler in my book.” Ryan finally looks my way, the red in his skin creeping slowly back down his neck. “I guess you’re not some stupid blonde, huh?” He throws my comment from earlier back at me as he pulls me under his arm and gives me a side hug. “I think we better save judgment until we really know you.”
“You better. There’s more going on in this package than just tits and ass,” I say, squeezing him back and returning his own foot-in-mouth comment.
“Could you just forget I ever said anything embarrassing, please? Now, let’s put the car away and I’ll get us something to eat while you get this video ready to upload. There’s a good taco place around the corner, if you like Mexican.”
“Deal,” I say, ducking under his arm to run to the Nissan. I back it safely into the garage with Ryan guiding me and hand him the keys in exchange for the camera.
When Ryan returns with a greasy sack of chips, guacamole, and a bunch of tacos, I have the video edited and ready to show him.
“You did a good job framing the shot, but I cut a few frames out here and there that went wide. Do you think this Banks song, Beggin’ for Thread, works? I added more of my shop tour and pictures to the beginning to give some of the car specs, then pieced the burnout into the video where the chorus drops. I love how you captured the last bit, with me putting the ADL on blast. I’m glad you got the shop sign in the background.” I’m bouncing on the couch in the office, unable to control my excitement.
“Whoa, kick back, killer. Let me take a look at your newest masterpiece.” He hands me a taco and takes the laptop from me while I bite into it ravenously. “Now, I’ve got a word of warning for you. If you put out a lot of media this fast, Paul is going to expect this kind of work from you all of the time. You might do better to let your handiwork trickle out. It’s under promise, over deliver, and it works wonders with Paul, trust me.” He laughs at my pinched expression.
“Oh, shut up and just watch it,” I say around my bite of food, smacking his shoulder playfully and pressing play on the queued up video.
Instead of watching the video, which I have seen repeatedly over the last forty-five minutes, I watch Ryan for his reaction. I looped the slides and donuts in slow motion a few times to make the video longer and it looks pretty good. I bite my lip and hold my breath as the video comes to an end and I hear my voice. I didn’t realize it until I was editing, but I sound husky and sexed up, probably from being so happy to be driving the car. Even the look I give the camera is pure “come-hither and rail me”.
Ryan’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. Okaaay. Maybe I went a little overboard and may have gotten more of a reaction than I was hoping for. I guess I’ll stick to modeling and leave acting to the professionals. I sit quietly when the video ends, purple text splashed across the screen with all of the S&M social media links and website. Ryan doesn’t say anything for a minute. Finally, he clears his throat and looks over at me.
“Damn, girl. You just made a video that will be porn for gearheads. Hot car, even hotter chick, and a badass couple of high-level maneuvers. I’m at half-mast myself, and I filmed that damn thing.”
I burst out laughing and launch myself at Ryan, giving him a bear hug he can’t possibly reciprocate with me pinning his arms to his sides. “I think that was intended as a compliment, so thanks,” I tell him as I sit back and let him have his arms again. “And thanks again for filming for me. I know you probably have better things to do than help me with my job.”
“Do you see any other techs here? Or cars other than the team’s? There is no work for me to do. I was kind of hoping you’d fuck something up so I’d have a project to work on.”
“Are you serious? You mean Paul doesn’t have any business right now? I just thought the shop was closed for a few days before the start of the season.” That’s a sobering thought. S&M needs to have cars coming in to fund the team and pay the bills. I won’t have a job for long if the team folds from lack of funding.
“Bingo. Paul had to let the other mechanic, Ezra, go because he couldn’t afford both of us right now. He also pays all of the race fees, travel and expenses for the entire team, including you, now. It was a risk to add another team member, but Paul thought it would work in our favor. I’m starting to see his thinking, now that you’re putting together video content that is going to get us noticed and make the shop name familiar to fans who want work done on their own cars.”
I tug my lower lip with my teeth and look out into the nearly empty garage. The Supra and the Z are the only cars I’ve seen in the three days I’ve been here. Ryan is the only person working on the cars and keeping busy in the shop. He also keeps me company while I’m here and not shooting promo, and Paul has only shown up to work with Ollie and I or shut himself in his office to do who knows what. I haven’t seen Griffin, the asshole, since the first shoot, and I still haven’t met the other driver, Wyatt.
“We really need this video to get out today, then,” I say as I click upload on my laptop. “We’re going to make a presence before we even hit the circuit.”
“I like the way you think. Now, what can I do to help you on this devious mission I see brewing in your head?”
“I guess you can share the video with every car forum you belong to and tell all of your friends. It’s weird to say it, but I hope everyone who sees this reacts the way you did.” I wrinkle my nose and smile at Ryan so he knows I’m okay with a bunch of car guys at half-mast thanks to this video.
Ryan shakes his head and chuckles. “You’re...really interesting. You keep me guessing what’s going to happen next. So what are you doing after this?”
I groan. I’m bored to t
ears from staring at the blank white walls of my new apartment and watching bad TV. This is the first time I’ve lived away from home, and it’s lonely. “The usual. Pick up a salad from the deli on the corner, watch reruns of The Big Bang Theory, and think lonely thoughts.”
“Jeez, way to throw a party. How about you meet the rest of the crew tonight? Paul and his wife have the team over for dinner a few nights a month, and it’s about time you met Mama Marny. She’ll love you.”
My heart beats a little faster thinking about meeting the rest of the team. And seeing Griffin again. I don’t know how that stupid jackass will act this time. Yeah, sure, that’s all you’re worried about. But I can’t say no to free dinner and getting to know the rest of the team.
“Definitely. Let me know what time and give me an address. I’ll use trusty Google maps to find my way.” I pull my phone out of my back pocket and get ready to input the info.
Ryan looks at me like I’m crazy. “Why would you need to do that? I’ll take you, dork.” He elbows my shoulder and turns to leave the office. “We can head over whenever you’re finished here. Marny normally has us eating around seven, but we can get there a little early.”
I smile at his retreating back. I think Ryan has taken me under his wing. It’s kind of nice to have someone looking out for me. It makes me miss Henry. Especially when Ryan called me a dork. I laugh to myself and check the video upload and shoot the link out to the S&M social media channels. Hopefully this gets a few hits tonight and I have something to show for my first day of non-promo girl work.
Chapter Three
Nerves have my knee bouncing and my hands fiddling as Ryan drives us to Paul’s house in his Nissan 240SX. It’s an older model car, but obviously his daily driver that works as a project car. I wonder if he wants to race also. I pull my GoPro out of my purse and hit record.
“Ryan, what’s your story? How did you become part of the S&M crew?” I train my camera on him unobtrusively, hoping to capture this little interview to use in a “meet the crew” series I have planned.
Ryan downshifts, rev matching perfectly as he slows for a red light. “Paul placed an ad on the bulletin board at the technical school I went to. I was in an auto program and wanted to find a job in a race shop, so I answered it. He was cool and let me start before I had even graduated from my program. I’ve been with S&M for over three years now and can’t see myself anywhere else. Paul has made this my family. Not just at work, but by inviting me into his home and taking an interest in all of our lives outside of the shop. He also knows how to build great cars. He’s got these killer instincts for what’s going to make a good car better. He’s not afraid to take risks, and he always learns from his mistakes, as few and far between as they are.”
I like his answer. It’s an insight into the team and how Paul runs it that is a testament to where I see the team going.
“Do you see your role with S&M changing? Would you ever want to drive?”
“Nah, I like being under the hood and creating the power behind these beasts.” He pats the dashboard of his 240. “My rush comes from seeing how a few tweaks and better parts can improve the performance. I’m a mod junkie. I want to change things up, get a better output with a few new things. I dabble in autocross here and there, but that manages to sate any craving I have for driving. Otherwise, it’s just fun for me to build the cars. I like troubleshooting and I don’t mind the pressure at a race when something breaks, forcing you to scramble to fix it before the next round. I think I work best under pressure like that.”
I nod at Ryan, enjoying his explanation. He sounds so much like Henry. Dad was always the racer, the one who wanted to build cars so he could achieve a new record. Henry drove so he could figure things out and get a better idea of how to take the car to a new level.
“So, how many people are part of the Smoke and Mirrors race team?”
“Let’s see,” he says, tapping the steering wheel as streetlights flash across his face. “You are the newest member, obviously. Wyatt joined at the end of last season as our second driver. This is his first season with us. That was a big deal. Most privateer teams don’t have two drivers. It’s twice as much money to build and transport two cars to all of the events, and pay for double the race expenses. Thankfully, this California Circuit we’re going into keeps us in-state. Even with the Pro Championship that comes after this circuit, the first and last races are local, being in Long Beach and Irwindale.”
Ryan looks over at me and I nod for him to continue.
“Ezra was our second mechanic until the shop slowed down. He will be coming back to help if things get busy or a car busts at a race, and he always helps at the events. He was Griffin’s mechanic before S&M brought him, Griff, and Cole on. Cole is our spotter. He sits up in the stands or a tower by the judges and gets the best view of the course so he can communicate with the drivers. He tells them when they’re off line, relays the speed based on radar, and can watch for how the car works during the run, to help Paul and I with tweaking the cars or tuning the handling for later runs. He used to race rallycross as Griff’s navigator, so he knows what to look for. Griffin trusts Cole to tell him his runs are garbage, or where he needs to tighten up.”
“So, Paul the owner, you and Ezra the mechanics, two drivers, and a spotter?”
“And now you, the hook.” Ryan grins at me as he makes a right turn into a residential neighborhood. I smile and turn off the camera, happy with our impromptu interview.
He pulls up to the curb of a modest ranch style home that is typical of California cookie-cutter developments. The garage door is open, with two cars inside, and two trucks with the shop logo painted on the sides in the driveway. We are parked behind another car and there are more on the opposite side of the driveway. Looks like it’s going to be a full house.
My heart beats a little faster thinking of all the new people I have to meet and impress tonight. I put on my friendliest smile and work myself up. I need these people to like me, even if Griffin has nothing nice to say about me and has probably already muddied the waters where I am concerned.
“You ready for this? It can get pretty overwhelming when the whole team gets together.”
I nod and straighten my clothes as I step out of the low car. I kept things simple because I didn’t have a choice. I opted to wear my Toms with jeans and a wide neck purple sweater. S&M’s colors are black and purple, so a lot of my wardrobe reflects that. Ryan just put a black hoodie over his clothes at the shop and called it a day. I follow him to the front door, letting him lead the way into the house because he knows what he’s doing, whereas I am a perfect stranger to most of the people I’ll meet tonight.
At least I know I am welcome. I made sure to have Ryan clear it with Paul first before I agreed to crash dinner.
The first thing that greets me as I enter the house is the delicious smell of garlic and simmering marinara sauce. I’m thinking Marny went with Italian for dinner. After my nose is delighted, I am overwhelmed with noise. I grew up in a male dominated household, I work with all men, and I don’t have many female friends, so this sounds like home to me. The TV in the back of the house is blaring on some sports station, there are voices arguing over which superhero has the best powers, and there are more voices talking loudly about the upcoming race season.
As we pass two guys I haven’t met yet, I chime in to their conversation. “Batman is obviously the best. He’s a normal human, who has used his circumstances to help rid the world of evil and make himself extraordinary. He’s totally super. Otherwise, you have to give it to Wolverine. The guy has a metal skeleton and the power to heal from any wound and an extra-long life.”
The lean, taller guy with wavy, sun-bleached blond hair throws his hands up in victory. “I told you Wolverine was the best! How could you say Superman? He’s even worse than Batman, who is, as this lovely lady just informed you, a normal dude with billions of dollars to make whatever he needs to be super.”
The other guy tilts hi
s beer in my direction and hangs his head. He’s shorter than blondie but taller than me, with golden brown hair that is pulled back into a man bun on the back of his head, and a full beard to match. “Fine, even chicks prefer Batman to Superman. But you all need to read more comics and get an education in superpowers. Being rich or a mutant does not make you a superhero. I’m Ezra and this ignorant dumbass is Cole. You must be Shelby, our new promo girl.”
Ahh, these would be the guys who know Griffin the best, and they seem cool. Maybe he hasn’t completely slandered me to the rest of the team. A shiver runs down my back as I exhale a breath of relief. I can totally do this.
“You would be correct. It’s nice to meet you, guys.” I offer my hand for either of them to shake but get pulled into a hug by Cole instead. He’s so tall my head barely reaches his shoulder.
Ezra can’t be outdone and grabs me for a hug next. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty. Even though you have the tiniest bit of comic knowledge, we will have to work on your understanding of superpowers. That aside, I’m glad you decided to weigh in. Based solely on this first interaction, I think you will be good for the team,” he says, patting my messy bun that tickles his nose.
“Well, glad you approve. Hopefully I can pull my weight around here and help as much as possible.”
“And she speaks of being more than just eye candy. The ADL better watch out for this one; she’s not just any promo girl,” Cole teases, placing his hands on my shoulders and guiding me toward the sound of televised sports. “In this room, you will find the sports fanatics. The flavor du jour is hockey, but you can believe that TV will always have some game or another on, no matter the season.”
Drift Heat Page 3
