No need to bring her into my complicated world.
Lawrence joined us, and we enjoyed hot soup and sandwiches before I left. Since I’d used the car service to drop me off, driving away in Tate’s car meant I wasn’t coming back but, I hoped it wouldn’t be the last time I saw Lawrence and Sara. They seemed like a loving couple who’d gotten it right for over forty years.
I could hope…
The car was a beast to drive—so much fun. I just had to run up and down the Dallas North Tollway, notorious for its fast drivers, several times before giving it up to Trey’s team at Speed Shield.
When I pulled in front of the building, guys from nearby offices came out to admire the car. Yeah, it was one of a kind. Chevrolet had outdone themselves this time.
“Have you heard from Tate?” Trey asked, standing beside me, staring at the hood of the car.
“Nope, not a word. I guess the last designs he and Cord approved will be the ones we use.”
“Well, time’s a wastin’.” He took the keys from me.
The next few days were a whirlwind. From early morning to very late night, I watched the guys create a masterpiece with the car, bit by bit. It truly looked like a beast, especially the wicked taillights.
Once the car was done, we celebrated with a big dinner, compliments of Marcus, who insisted he was coming down the next week to watch the filming.
The Speed Shield (?) team moved the car to an airplane hangar for the photo shoot. Technology was amazing, and the entire process left me astounded. My breath caught repeatedly as the crane lifted the car and turned it in different directions. The photographer Cord had hired knew his stuff. In order for the game to be realistic, the player needed to be embedded as an actual driver. Therefore, cameras were installed around the headrest to mimic the driver’s view, as well as on the hood.
The days were long but never boring. And the silence from Tate was deafening. My gut told me something was wrong, but what?
On Saturday afternoon, I sat on the second floor balcony of my hotel room drinking a glass of wine, when my phone lit up with Marcus’s name. “Hey, boss.”
“Hey, how’s the shoot?”
“All wrapped up, and the team said it went perfectly. Just hoping that Tate gets here to drive the car on Tuesday. We’ve got rain every day but Wednesday and Thursday next week, so we only have one shot at the video. Have you heard from him?”
He paused. “No, I haven’t, but I know when he left for Europe, things were not good with his car or the team in France. I knew he was busy and would call me when he had a chance.”
“Well, he hasn’t responded to any of my calls or texts. It doesn’t make sense to me. If I didn’t have this project in high gear, I’d leave and go check on him.”
“No, no need for that. We’ll hear from him as soon as he can get away. Besides it’s a seven-hour time change. Hard to find the perfect time to call. Hey, go celebrate tonight in style on me. You’ve done good, kid.”
Marcus was right, but Tate could’ve at least sent a text. Something just wasn’t right.
When I joined Amanda and Ben for dinner, we enjoyed the night out as Marcus had arranged, dressing up and taking a car service into downtown Dallas. Dinner and dancing is even more fun when you put it on someone else’s tab.
Nothin’ like spending other people’s money…
Amanda and I were discussing fashion and the fact that she’d lost twenty pounds and looked hotter than ever when Ben piped in. “No word from mystery man?”
I shook my head. “Time to move on. I gave up guessing why it is people do what they do a long time ago.” I had no intention of rushing into another mess.
Amanda rolled her eyes in my direction. She knew better. She could read me as if my inner thoughts were written on my forehead. She knew I cared for Tate and was secretly praying he’d come back to me.
“When the waitress comes around again, will you order me another drink? I’m going to the ladies’ room.”
Weaving in and around the tables to the back wall, I passed a table of cowboys who, I couldn’t help but notice, looked really good. When I came out of the restroom, one of them looked my way.
“Care to dance, little lady?”
Why the hell not? “Sure,” I answered.
We took to the dance floor, and the dude could really turn some corners. His name was Alan, and he had me spinning and moving to the live band. Before I knew it, we’d been out there for four or five songs.
“I gotta stop and get a drink. Come meet my friends,” I invited, and he followed me to the table. When he gripped my hand, I didn’t stop him. “Hey, Ben, Amanda, this is Alan. We’ve been dancing.”
“We’ve been watching,” Amanda interjected with a sassy smile.
We sat down and started talking, and it turned out Alan and Ben knew some of the same people from his job at Oracle. Small world.
When the band took a break, I heard “Burning House” by Cam come over the speakers. “My favorite song, let’s dance.”
It was a slow song, and the way he held me reminded me of the way Rowan and I had danced, our heartbeats in sync. A word in the song hit me hard. Sleepwalking. My heart was heavy. It reminded me of an old saying someone once told me…
The past is a statement; the future is a question.
When we returned to the table, I knew we were coming to the awkward part of the night. I really didn’t want to hurt Alan’s feelings, but I didn’t want to exchange numbers.
Then a lady approached our table and spoke with him off to the side. When he turned to me, he said, “Willow, this is Maleah, my wife.”
What the hell? “Um, nice to meet you, Maleah. Thank you for letting me dance with your husband. He knows the floor really well.”
“Oh yeah, he dances great. This is what we do every weekend.”
My light bulb went on. I bet you do.
“Willow, we’re saying goodnight and heading home,” Amanda announced. Since we’d arrived together, she was giving me an out, in case I was going home with the dude—and the wife.
Uh, hell no.
“I’m coming,” I yelled after them. “Goodnight, Alan. Maleah, have fun.”
I ran to the car; which Ben had pulled in front of the club entrance. Climbing in, I gave them a shocked look. “Get this. That was Alan’s wife, and they’re swingers. Oh. My. God. I can’t win for losing.”
Ben and Amanda busted out laughing. “There’s a ton of them out here. This place is kind of known for that.”
“Well, I guess times have changed, but I’m no swinger. That was…awkward. At least I didn’t exchange numbers with him.”
Amanda tapped my knee. “One good thing came of it. You had fun, didn’t you? And you got a great laugh.”
“True.”
Removing my phone, ID, and credit cards from my wristlet, I noticed I’d missed a call from an unknown number. I didn’t even check voicemail. It would have to wait until later, because whoever phoned wouldn’t appreciate me calling them after three in the morning. But that didn’t ease my thoughts about who it was or if it had anything to do with Tate, Les, or Mariah.
Need to lose some of the drama in my life.
A few hours later, I woke up to the buzzing of my phone on the bedside table. So much for silence.
“Ms. Alders?” The unknown caller was back.
“Yes,” I answered, my voice croaky.
“It’s Detective Dempsey. I’m afraid I have news you need to hear.”
“Really? What’s that?”
“Mariah Vaught died late last night, but not before Les Cooper bonded out.”
“That creep is out? How could you do that? He’s a murderer.”
“Don’t have enough to hold him. He bonded out on the assault charge on you. As the victim, we have to notify you. We’re working on the bigger picture, but we’re not as close as I’d like to be. I need to find those skimmers.”
“What skimmers?”
“Credit card skimmers. They we
re part of a bigger operation we’re trying to crack.” His voice was terse.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know anything about that. Look, I’m in Texas, Detective. I’m not certain when I will be returning to the city.” By now, I was sitting on the side of the bed ready to chew nails. Murder?
“Mr. Zion provided us access to your storage items. Unfortunately, we didn’t find what we were looking for.”
“I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary. Most of my things are with me in Dallas, but I did leave a few boxes in the penthouse. You have my permission to go through them.”
Great—he’s gonna get a firsthand view of my private pleasure box.
“That would be most appreciated. Will you keep my number in your phone and let me know when you plan on returning?”
“Yes sir, I can do that.”
“I’m sorry that I didn’t have better news about Ms. Vaught.”
Yeah, me too.
I drew my knees to my chest and tried to still the trembling. Life was so unauthorized. Things happened out of our control. Such mixed emotions flowed through me. Mariah didn’t deserve to die, especially the way she had, but she had been on a track where she couldn’t be saved by anyone other than herself. Worse, she’d pulled me into that crazy maze with her, leaving a killer on the loose.
In a text to Marcus, I told him the police needed access to my things in the penthouse and to call me when he had a moment.
The hot water of the shower soothed the tired muscles from my night of dancing, but it couldn’t comfort the ache in my heart for Mariah and her family. There was no immediate end to the pain of losing a loved one, regardless of what they’d done. The few times we shared about our personal lives, she talked about her family with such passion; it was a sad ending.
I settled in to bed early, turned the television on to watch a movie, and emptied a bottle of wine.
Keeping the quiet out…
13
Monday was a rainout, which made it a perfect day to catch up with Mom. Surprisingly, she was five months sober, working evenings at a college library to supplement my dad’s retirement, and doing remarkably well. It felt a bit weird being in my childhood home. I hadn’t been there much in the last few years. Avoidance was my only way to deal with the pain.
I sat at the kitchen counter while she made a pot of coffee. “You look great, Mom.”
After I filled her in on the filtered version of my hectic life, she gave me a long, tight hug.
“I’m so proud to see you moving forward. I feel as though I’ve spent years standing still, wallowing in self-pity. But, counseling and sobriety have helped me tremendously.” She walked behind the bar to finish preparing lunch.
Wow, words so true.
Wanting to help her, I started chopping the vegetables. “I probably wouldn’t have, had it not been for Marcus and Dr. Sartain, Sonya’s new partner. Marcus pushed me, and the doctor made me promise I’d dive in to this racing project and face my issues straight on.”
“Do you miss Dallas?” my mom asked over her shoulder.
I paused the chopping. “More than I realized.”
“Can you stay for a while?” There was sadness in her question. She had always hated being alone.
My sigh was more audible than my intent. “I’ll be in and out all week, but after that, I’m not exactly sure what the immediate future holds.”
While we enjoyed her amazing home-cooked chicken spaghetti, I told her about Tate…from my coffee girl status all the way to finding out about his twins.
“So, you’re convinced he has commitment issues?”
Chewing, I nodded. “His mother was so distraught for him. She knows he does too. He’s never gonna get over it.”
“Don’t predict his future, honey. Give him time. If you haven’t heard from him, it’s because he’s busy trying to clear the calendar to get to you.”
“Reading too much into it?” I mumbled.
She gripped my hand. “Besides, you yourself just ran back into this racing thing full throttle without any time to think about it. Are you really ready for that life again?”
She was right. But, then again, she’d watched me work a full time position at the hospital while trying to keep up with Rowan and all his traveling for the two years we were together. We’d met when he was my patient, with a broken leg and collarbone from a motorcycle racing accident. I was younger then; he was hot and persistent. It took him two months to convince me to go out with him.
We’d had so much fun together. We could finish each other sentences and often said the same thing at the same time. We were salt and pepper.
But I couldn’t replace him, nor did I want to try.
“When I was with Tate, his eyes were my shelter while the world around me was falling apart.”
“That’s beautiful, honey. I think you’re scared to admit you’re in love.”
“I’m scared of a lot of things.” I paused. “I think we put walls up to keep ourselves safe, but there’s no protecting the heart when those walls come crashing down in love.”
That night, I slept hard and longer than I had in years. Being home in my own bed, the feeling of closeness with my mom again—everything was getting better in my world. I was happy for her and grateful that she’d helped shed some light on some of the fears I had.
If only…
Saying I paced a hole in the hotel room rug was an understatement. By nine o’clock Tuesday night, I’d called everyone I knew, in order to find Tate, but no one answered the phone. It was as if the universe had me on do not disturb.
Frantic, I left a message for Marcus, telling him I was calling off the shoot. He texted me immediately, telling me to wait. At the last minute, the crew could use a stand in. Figuring he knew what he was doing, I gave him the benefit of the doubt.
By the time I arrived at the racetrack the next morning, the crew had set all the cameras into position, and the car was out of the trailer being polished. Everyone was mic’d and ready to go, but no Tate.
Unable to get Marcus on the phone, my stomach roared with bile. Hundreds of thousands of dollars and my job were on the line if the day didn’t go as planned.
When Avery Sorenson, the lead videographer, approached me with a racing suit, I simply looked at him with amazement.
“What am I supposed to do with that?”
“Wear it.”
“Have you lost your freakin’ mind? I’m no race car driver.”
“You can drive a car, can’t you?”
I put my hands on my hips, the cold wind flapping my hair all over the place. “Yes, I can drive.”
A crowd of people was gathering in the pit area, taking photos and ogling over Tate’s car, but paying no attention to the two of us arguing about driving.
“Look, Willow. I don’t have any extra manpower. Every guy has got a camera to run. All we need is for the car to be at certain places at certain times. Behind the suit, no one will know. I can talk to you in your ear. Tell you when to speed up and slow down and when to throttle it. Can you do it?”
I paced repeatedly and stared at my phone. Nerves got the best of me, and I puked my guts up on the side of the infield.
“Holy hell, Willow.” Avery jumped back, so vomit didn’t splatter his shoes.
Tate Conway, I’m gonna kick your ass when I see it.
“You’re sure there’s no one else? The truck driver or one of the guys from the crew? You see what this is doing to me.”
“Driver left, and all the crew are running boards or cameras. We can get it today. I’m sure of it, but if not, we’ve got tomorrow as a backup. It’s one day. Then you’ll be a hero in your boss’s corner. Please say yes. Once you’re behind the wheel, your nerves will settle. I know you can do it safely, or I wouldn’t ask.”
“But I have to get the car up to two hundred miles per hour. I cannot do that. I don’t take my own past seventy in an emergency. And besides, I’m not trained to do this Avery.”
“I can ma
ke it work with a hundred and fifty. It’s much easier than you think. The car is easy to drive and the track is made for it. Think of the stories you’ll tell your grandkids.” His grin was overly enthusiastic.
“Liability? Scared shitless?
“Liability is covered, you’re part of the crew. You can do this. C’mon on.”
I’m gonna fuck somebody up when this is over.
After taking a deep breath, I agreed, “Okay, I’ll do it,” certain I’d lost my ever-lovin’ mind.
I typed out a text to my mom. I didn’t hit send, but I left it in the pit area in case something happened to me.
Race suit—check.
Gloves—check.
Ear bud—check.
Retardant face shield—check.
Helmet—check.
Stupidity—check.
I took the car around the track probably twenty times for a warm-up and practiced listening to Avery’s instructions. Before long, I was getting comfortable with the car and the speed.
Heck, I even became a pro at pulling into the pit for car checks and fuel.
“Okay, Willow. I want you to punch it coming out of the next curve, get it to a hundred, and don’t brake until I tell you to. Can you do that?” Avery spoke in my ear.
Sweat dripped from my nose, and the sound of my spiking blood pressure swooshed in my ears. “Yes, I think I can do it.”
As I came into the curve, I let the car ride, and as soon as I came out of the curve, I forced the gas pedal down. The car took off like an airplane. Avery was right. Even on the track, it was a gem to drive, and I had it at a hundred before I could even blink.
Holy cow, I think I like this power.
“That’s it, Willow. You’re doing great. Hold her steady and don’t brake, don’t brake, okay, get ready…BRAKE!”
It was all I could do to keep from smiling. I felt free. The air all around me, and oh, the speed—total exhilaration. It. Was. Freaking. Awesome.
The rest of the day was pretty much the same. I managed to get the car up to one-fifty, and it was completely incredible. Several times I had to stop for fuel, and they filled it without me even getting out of the car.
Tracks To Love: An Enemies To Lovers Alpha Hero Romance Page 8
