by Stahl, Shey
“What?” I snapped throwing the door open.
“Don’t what me.” She pushed a steaming cup of coffee toward me as she entered the motor coach with paperwork. “I brought you coffee.”
“I’m sorry,” I smiled at the steaming heaven. “thank you.”
Settling the coffee and papers, she had tucked under her arm, down, her brow furrowed reached for my forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah—why?”
“I’ve never heard you say you were sorry.”
I shrugged. “It’s probably the last.”
“You have a busy day.” She pushed my schedule toward me. “You have the interview with ESPN in thirty minutes.”
I sighed focusing on the coffee, steam rolled in waves.
I don’t think many people realize how much NASCAR has evolved from a weekend pastime to a highly demanding business. It’s not only Sunday that you have commitments now.
Mondays were usually spent recovering from the race. Sometimes I had appearances on behalf of my sponsor, signing autographs and standing for photographs. Tuesdays and Wednesday were used for testing the cars at tracks where upcoming races would be held. We usually experimented with the cars, finding just the right setup that will allow a fast qualifying time on that particular track and then taking notes of the setup, tire pressures and tire wear to then transfer that information to race-day. Thursdays I would then fly to the track we were racing at for the week. Friday was practice and usually qualifying, depending on when the race would be held. If for instance the race was on Saturday night, everything was moved up a day.
At the track, I had various media commitments for my sponsor and then there were the interviews from the press, radio stations, newspapers and the local track.
Saturday was devoted to practice again, called Happy Hour. Despite the name, it was a crazy and hectic rush to get the car ready for the next day as it was our last chance to ensure the car was perfect. Sunday was race day. My day usually began with a sponsorship meeting, attended by fans, where I answered questions about the day and season or whatever else they decided to ask me.
The drivers meeting was held two hours before the race and provided NASCAR officials the opportunity to review important rule changes and other issues that teams had to remember throughout the day. Following this, our team gathered for a team meeting in the hauler to discuss what was heard at the drivers meeting since only the driver, crew chief, and owner attend. At times, there was information that we needed to let the rest of the team know.
Thirty minutes before the race, driver introductions begin. Usually I walked across the track, wave to the fans, and then go back to my car to wait for the rest of the pre-race ceremonies to conclude.
There you have it, my week. And guess what, when the race was over, it all started again Monday morning.
Glancing down at the paper, Alley continued. “Then you have an interview with People magazine at nine. After that you have the drivers meeting, team meeting, introductions, the race, and then we leave to Olympia tonight.”
I nodded showing enthusiasm for the last part.
“Now remember,” Alley began, “People magazine will ask personal questions, just...be careful. You not only have yourself to think about, but remember Sway before you go broadcasting personal details about your relationship.”
“What kind of details will they ask?”
“Well, for one they are going to ask if she’s pregnant.”
“What should I say?” Personally, I knew what I would say to that questions but it wouldn’t be polite.
“I suggest you deny it for now.” Alley reached for her keys on the table. “Sway hasn’t even told Charlie yet. And with everything going on with Darrin...” her gaze held some warning. “I think it’s best the media doesn’t find out yet.”
Alley knew what she was doing. After all, she was my publicist for a reason.
I despised doing media interviews but I knew it was part of the job and learned it early on when I raced USAC. As soon as you were out of the car, the world was waiting to know everything and nothing as none of it even mattered.
I just couldn’t understand why they always needed to know such personal information.
The People magazine interview was filled with ridiculous questions. How I felt about being the best-looking driver in NASCAR? What my ideal date would be? Did I have a girlfriend? Was I going to propose? Do we plan on having kids?
It was personal shit I honestly thought no one would want to know and didn’t want anyone knowing. I gave vague answers and eventually managed to kick out the reporter to make it to the drivers meeting.
That was one meeting you couldn’t be late for. If you were, you started in the rear of the field regardless of your qualifying run. Taking a seat in the back next to Bobby and Tate, they greeted me and asked how I was feeling.
I was pleasantly surprised to hear that after the accident with Darrin, they stuck up for me. I would have done the same for either of them but they put their careers on the line, for me. That meant something to me.
After the drivers meeting, it was back to the hauler to meet with the team but of course, I only made it a few feet before Maggie, a reporter with SPEED, found me for an interview.
Maggie was one of the more respectable reporters so I answered her questions. Signing autographs along the way, she kept up with me knowing this was her only chance for an interview.
“How’s the car?”
“My Simplex Ford is running great.” After signing a die-cast car, I handed it back to the kid next to me leaving him with a bright smile. “Hopefully we can get on and off pit road clean and finish out with a top then.”
“How are you recovering from the injuries?” Maggie asked. “Do you notice if being back in the car affects anything?”
“You know I’m sore and my wrist was bothering me after happy hour, but other than that, I feel great. Better than I thought I would feel after an accident like that.”
“How are the lungs?” The microphone tipped back toward me.
“I still have some problems there but I have a few breathing exercises I do to help me. They definitely don’t let me forget”
“Now that Darrin is suspended do you feel Mike Tanner is any competition for you?” Maggie asked.
I shrugged signing another poster. This time a younger girl, maybe around six, pushed her toy car toward me, same bright smile as the boy.
I knelt to her level. “What’s your name sweetie?”
She grinned back when I noticed her JAR Racing sweatshirt with Justin’s sprint car on the front. “Hallie,”
I winked handing the car back to her after I signed it. “There you go sweetheart.”
Maggie tried her question again, “So, is Mike competition for you?”
“Not that I’ve seen. What is he like thirty ninth today?”
“Yes, thirty ninth,”
“Well...there you go.”
Maggie laughed and went on to interview Bobby who got the pole today.
Before I entered the hauler, Lane was jumping on my back.
I cringed, my ribs were still sore but I smiled despite my pain.
“Hey,” I ruffled his hair trying to shift his weight to be more comfortable. “Long time no see buddy.”
“Uncle Jameson! I miss you.”
“You missed me?”
“That’s what I said.” He rolled his eyes.
“No, you said I miss you.” I corrected.
He offered another eye roll which I found entertaining coming from a three-year old. “You’re a weirdo,”
“Am not!”
Am I really arguing with a three year old?
“Yes huh.”
“Are not,”
Alley seemed to find humor in the fact that I was arguing with a child.
“I want a hot dog.”
Lane and I walked over to the infield concession stands where he proceeded to pick out his hot dog.
“I want that
’d one.”
“Which one?” The attendant smiled down at Lane when I asked the question of him.
“That’d one,” He pointed in the general direction of the hot dogs.
“Can you be more specific? There are like ten goddamn hot dogs on there.”
“Ummm...that’d one,” Lane pointed to the furthest hot dog on the rack. “That’s the one I want.”
“I don’t see why you and Sway like hot dogs.” I grumbled paying for it. Lane jumped on my back again, hot dog in hand. “They’re just ground up lips and assholes. You know that, right?”
When Lane scrunched his nose, I realized I probably shouldn’t have said asshole in front of him but it was a little late to take it back now.
Lane shrugged his tiny shoulders. “I think libs and assholes taste good.” He admitted taking a bite. “Yep, good. Tasty.”
I was about to tell Lane he shouldn’t repeat “asshole” but I didn’t get a chance before Alley approached us. “Hey buddy, whatcha got there?”
“Lips and assholes, they’re dewicious.”
I flashed a grin hoping she wouldn’t kill me.
“Jameson,” Alley seethed through a forced smile. “Give me my son. Phillip is inside waiting for you. Oh,” she smacked at my chest. “Don’t forget you have a radio interview later today with KPW.”
Lane jumped down and clung to his mother’s leg eating his lips and assholes. I snuck past them inside the hauler only to have Alley smack the back of my head.
Once inside, I tried to prepare myself as to why Phillip was here.
“What kind of statement did she give you?”
Placing his briefcase on the counter, he took a seat across from me in the booth. “Mariah gave a written statement to the police as a plea bargain. She admitted to everything.”
“Everything?” I repeated trying to process his words. “What’s everything?”
“Their whole plan,”
“And that was?”
“Are you sure you want to hear this?” His warm eyes held apprehension.
I nodded focusing.
“Darrin’s sponsor, Wyle Products, re-negotiated his contract at the beginning of this season. They actually contemplated releasing Darrin from his contract for his unsatisfactory performance last season. When this happened, Wyle took interest in you. At the time you’d just won six races in a row in the Busch Series.”
I groaned in disbelief. His reactions to me in Daytona made sense now.
“When Darrin found out you were racing in the Cup series at Daytona, he wasn’t so pleased. Then his girlfriend, of the last two years took notice as well. That started it for him.” Phillip sighed looking over at me. “I don’t think this is over, Jameson. We don’t have a case against him right now but if he tries something off the track, we can get him. As it is, he’s governed by NASCAR. Besides the penalties handed down by them, no judge is going to convict him of anything more. I have an associate in criminal law who tried a case similar to this a few years ago for an NHL player and the outcome was similar. The judge dismissed the trial before it even began.”
It was sickening to hear this. Just because I was considered a professional athlete, a fellow driver could try to kill me if he wanted to, as long as I was on the track. To me that was bullshit.
“You filed a restraining order against him, right?”
“Yes, there is one against Darrin, Mariah Fowler and Chelsea Adams.” His eyes narrowed before an amused look materialized. “We had nothing on Dana so they denied that one.”
Hell, it was worth a try. Dana Sloan, in her eyes, was my biggest fan. We did not share the same enthusiasm for each other. Now Chelsea, well yeah, I dated her in high school but since then, I wouldn’t say I even wanted to be in the same room with her. Now that she was assisting Darrin too, I really didn’t care for her.
“Now for my next topic,” the amusement in his voice was gone. “Mariah indicated Darrin wouldn’t stop until he’s taken everything you have, and that includes Sway.”
My heart instantly started pounding. “What do you mean?” I ground out between clenched teeth.
“She’s his next target.”
“Do something.” I was on my feet in an instant pacing around the narrow hallway. “Call the police, do something!”
Gentry, Kyle’s brother and one of the tire changers for the crew walked inside the hauler with Aiden. They both immediately turned around.
“Jameson,” Phillip warned in a grave voice. “I can’t stop him from doing anything and neither can the police. I’ve filed a restraining order on Sway’s behalf but that doesn’t stop him from breaking it. A restraining order means nothing to man like Darrin. Restraining orders can be enforced across state lines in accordance with the Full Faith and Credit Clause of the U.S. Constitution via the National Crime Information Center database. Violating a restraining order is a serious criminal offence that merits arrest and possible prison time. If he breaks it, he’s screwed.”
I tried desperately to control my breathing but it was a futile attempt. “Where is he now?”
“He’s in Charlotte,”
“How were Mariah and Chelsea involved?” I had to draw my attention to something else.
“Mariah said she fed Darrin lies, telling him you two had sex. Chelsea took notice in your career when you started wining in the Busch Series. When Tate was in Elma at the beginning of the year, he met Chelsea. She then used him to get to you. When you showed no interest in her, Mariah noticed you turned her down as well and befriended her. That’s how the plan developed from what I gathered.”
“So why Sway?” I asked abruptly. “How does this have anything to do with her?”
“Because he couldn’t succeed in ending your career. From what Mariah says, if he couldn’t succeed in ruining your life, Sway will do just fine for him.” Phillip placed his hand on my shoulder attempting to comfort me. “Be careful and don’t underestimate him. The man is off his rocker. I’ve also hired a body guard to follow her and Charlie around when she’s not with you. He will be in contact with you. His name is Van Lambert. He’s an ex Navy Seal.” He clicked his tongue with a grin. “Top notch,”
“Is he there now?” I felt slightly relieved Phillip had taken so many precautions in protecting Sway.
He checked his phone. “Yes...as we speak Sway and Charlie are at home.”
“What’s his cell phone number?”
“Look at your phone.”
I realized I hadn’t checked my phone in a while. Scrolling through the numerous text messages from Alley and Emma regarding various appearances and interviews, I noticed two from an unknown number.
This is Van Lambert. I’ll send you updates to this number. Everything looks good.
The next text was his phone number as a way to contact him. I felt relieved yes, but I also felt anxious that Sway wouldn’t want someone following her around. After thanking Phillip, I called Sway to warn her before I got ready for driver introductions.
“Hello?” A sleepy Sway answered after a few rings.
I chuckled softly slipping on my racing suit. Holding the phone against my shoulder, I zipped the front after tucking my t-shirt in.
“Hey beautiful,” I whispered in a low voice. “sorry to wake you.”
“Mmmm,” you could almost hear the smile in her soft voice. “it’s a good morning when I get woke up by you.”
“It’s a good morning when I get to hear that sweet voice of yours as well.”
“Mmmm...”
I groaned at her soft noises. She knew exactly what to do to send me over the edge. I could hear rustling on the line, imagining her naked body.
I needed to think of something else.
Clearing my throat before speaking, I told her, “So...I called for a reason.”
“Oh yeah?” Sway hedged but her voice was marred by vibrating.
“Sway, what’s that noise?”
She didn’t answer right away but when I heard her moan, I fell back against the
wall, sliding down until seated on the floor.
“Sway,” I warned. “I don’t have time to take care of the problem you just created. Stop that.”
“Ah...Jameson...feels so good...mmmm...”
“Fuck, stop that. I need to tell you something,”
I made a noise that was some sort of guttural growl. “Sway, please...” my voice trailed off once my hand slipped inside my suit.
Sway’s moans turned into throaty sexy fucking gasps, my hand continued to palm my erection. I couldn’t do much with my racing suit, and I was about to rip it off to take of this when Spencer barged in.
Feeling like a teenager who just got caught bleeding his pressure valve, I tried to adjust myself to go unnoticed.
“I need to go.”
She didn’t respond and for the life of me, I couldn’t hang up the goddamn phone. I was utterly fixated on this, even though it was pure torture.
“I’m not sure my bearings are aligned properly.” Sway moaned. “I think some boring needs done or maybe some deburring...”
Oh my god!
You could have heard the sharp intake of breath I took outside.
Sway’s moans grew louder and she began a very explicit portrayal of the way she was touching herself and the things she wished I was doing to her.
I’m not sure if Spencer could hear her but when he sat down in the booth with a smirk, I began to think he had an idea of the cruelty. Moving from the floor, I sat in the booth across from him, using the table to conceal my erection from my brother.
“Sway,” I warned again when she told me how she was slipping the vibrator over her ignition switch. She knew damn well I loved dirty car talk just as much as she did. I bit down hard on my fist and threw my head back against the wall when she told me her oil pump was lubricating all the right areas.
Spencer laughed at my expression, Sway continued and I almost cried at how evil this all was.
Finally, her incredibly sexy moaning reached a climax as my entire body became rigid. When she was finished we were both panting, I was leaned forward, my head slammed against the table, shaking it back and forth.
Spencer of course found this hilarious.
When Sway started laughing, I snapped.
