by Abby Gaines
“If they’re going to break up,” he said defensively, “it’s less painful now than later.”
She blinked. “What about those things you said about Trent and Kelly, the obstacles they overcame? Why can’t your father and Julie-Anne do the same?”
He ran a finger around the stiff collar of his tuxedo. “They don’t really know each other,” he said. “Maybe they only just got around to talking about the things people should discuss before they tie the knot. About what they want out of life, how their relationship will work.”
“You mean, the things we didn’t talk about?”
He lifted his face to the night sky as if the secret of a happy marriage was written in the stars. “Hard to believe, isn’t it, that we missed something so fundamental.”
His implication—that he’d never have married her if they had—hurt.
“At least the way we did it, you had the perfect excuse to get out of the marriage,” she said, her tempter flaring.
Chad’s gaze jerked to her. “What does that mean?”
“You said I give up on my father too easily, that I’ll quit the relationship rather than risk more hurt,” she said. “You were right. I’m starting to realize I gave up on us too easily, too, for the same reasons.”
“We knew each other three days,” he said. “Getting married was a stupid thing to do. In our case, quitting was the sensible option.”
“People do stupid things all the time,” she said. “Sometimes they put it right, make it work. Like Zack’s trying to with his racing career.”
“What are you saying?” he demanded. “You think we should have stayed married?”
She caught a breath, half sob, in her throat. “I don’t know.” Because if she did, the terrible mistake hadn’t been getting married, it had been giving up.
“How could it have worked?” He ran both hands through his hair. “We had completely different ideas about marriage.”
“You never wanted to make it work,” she said quietly. “Did you?”
He drew back. “The divorce was your idea.”
“I mentioned breaking up first,” she admitted. She pushed her hands into the pockets of his jacket. “But, Chad, I didn’t wake up that morning—I didn’t go into that conversation—wanting our marriage to end or in any way regretting what we’d done.” She paused. “Did you?”
Silence. Heavy, pulsating with memory and regret. Chad spun away from her, took three paces. Then turned back and stared her down like an old-time outlaw.
“I did,” he said at last. “Before I said one word, before you did, maybe even before I opened my eyes that morning, I was wondering if our marriage was all wrong.”
Brianna hadn’t expected him to admit it. Now his confession weighed on her like a stone. He had known from the start he didn’t want to make it work.
“I’m sorry.” He sounded dazed, as if he could hardly believe what he’d said. He took a halting step toward her. “Brianna, I’m sorry. We made vows and I discarded them because I was…scared. I was a jerk.”
“You were a jerk, but you were also right,” she said dully. “You weren’t ready for marriage. Neither was I.” Her teeth chattered uncontrollably, though wearing his jacket, she had to be warmer than he was.
“Sweetheart, let’s get you inside.”
She didn’t need him being kind and soft, darn it!
“I j-just realized,” she said. “I thought I knew it was too late, but it’s only just hit me.” Her breath came in short, shivery puffs, visible in the night air.
“What has?” He grasped her shoulders, gave her a tiny shake. “Tell me.”
“All this t-time, a p-part of me has hoped we might be able to fix our marriage.” With a huge effort of will, she stilled her shivers, her chattering teeth. “But we can’t. Chad, it really is over.”
IRONICALLY, NOW THAT Chad had admitted he’d never been husband material, by Tuesday morning, rumors had started flying about his relationship with Brianna. The gossip was contained within Matheson Racing at this stage, but he knew the rumors could go further. Given human nature, they definitely would go further—it was just a matter of time.
Chad thought about the problem, found a solution, implemented it.
Like everything else so far this year, it didn’t go as planned. Which meant he had another confession to make to Brianna.
He knew she was meeting with FastMax Racing’s accountants. Reluctantly he called her. She recognized his number, because her voice when she answered was guarded in the extreme. Which was less intimidating than that shivering she’d done the other night.
“Our receptionist overheard Julie-Anne on the phone to Dad this morning,” he said.
“Those two are talking again?” Her wariness dropped away.
“Uh, I don’t think so. It was about work.” Julie-Anne was still in her job; Brady was still at home recuperating. Chad continued, “Julie-Anne said something about you and me. Not specifically that we’re married, but the receptionist interpreted her words that way.”
Brianna’s defeated sigh suggested she couldn’t take much more bad news about their marriage.
“Zack told me the story was going around the cafeteria,” Chad said. “I went down there and made enough of a joke that I don’t think anyone’s taking it seriously.”
“That’s not so bad, then,” she said.
Hold that thought, Chad pleaded silently. He gripped the phone tighter. “I, uh—” a sweat broke out on his forehead “—I did something else that I thought would kill the story stone dead.”
“Great,” she said. “What was it?”
Chad swallowed and wished he could turn back the clock. “I, uh, asked the human-resources manager for a date.”
Deathly silence.
He waited.
More deathly silence.
“Brianna? It was the only thing I could think of.”
“Very clever.” She spoke so quietly he could hardly hear.
He closed his eyes. He’d known the second he asked Liz out for dinner it was stupid. He’d asked via e-mail, to make it easier for her to spread the details of the invitation around her friends in the office. That had already happened. Which was useful for the rumor of his marriage. Not so useful for the marriage itself.
We won’t have a marriage much longer.
“But people are still talking about you and me,” he said. “I think—” he hated doing this to her “—we need to tell your father.”
She hissed. “Tell him that you’re dating the HR manager?”
He didn’t imagine the acid in her words. Angry was better than defeated, he told himself. “You know what I mean. And I’m not dating Liz.” He would call her as soon as he got off the phone, cancel dinner and apologize.
When Brianna spoke, her voice was shaky, and Chad longed to take her in his arms. “I guess you’re right. I should tell Dad.”
“We’ll go together.”
The phone clattered as if she’d dropped it. “There’s no need.”
“I know how much you care about your dad,” Chad said. “And how easily he can hurt you. I won’t let that happen.”
“How thoughtful of you,” she said politely. Then, “When shall we go?”
He hadn’t expected such easy acquiescence. He began typing an e-mail to his secretary, telling her to cancel his appointments. “This afternoon. We’ll get away right after lunch.”
She agreed without enthusiasm. He knew she wasn’t looking forward to telling her father the truth. He wanted to tell her he would protect her.
But she had zero reason to trust him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
BRIANNA’S FATHER had not a hair left on his head, not even eyebrows. The chemotherapy had taken it all. His face had thinned, too, emphasizing the lines running from his nose to his mouth.
Brianna kissed him and tried to hide her dismay. What effect did sudden bad news have on cancer patients? If she could be certain her father would never hear she was married, she wouldn’t tell him n
ow.
She sat down on the couch; Chad joined her. “Dad, I need—we need to talk to you.”
“You’re going with Zack Matheson for the sponsorship?” Brian’s mouth tightened. “I have to admit it’s not what I expected.” Brianna’s reports to him so far all pointed in the direction of FastMax.
“This isn’t about the sponsorship. It’s personal.” Brianna leaned forward, hands clasped on her knees. Something in her tone silenced her father.
“I first met Chad nearly two years ago in Las Vegas,” she said. “And we, uh, the fact is, Dad, we…” The words stuck in her throat.
“We got married,” Chad said. The admission hung in the air.
Brian’s mouth worked. “You what?”
“We got married,” Brianna confirmed. “We separated right away, and we didn’t see each other again until a couple of weeks ago, but we’re still married.”
“We’re divorcing,” Chad clarified.
Brianna nodded.
Her father rubbed his temples. “Why did you do a crazy thing like that?”
“We were in…we thought we loved each other,” she said.
Her father looked incredulous, as if that was the stupidest reason for getting married he’d ever heard.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.
“I’m telling you now.”
“I suppose I should be grateful,” he said. “Who’s your lawyer?”
“We’re both using Chad’s lawyer,” Brianna said. Chad gave him the name.
That got her father going again. “Don’t be such a fool. I’m one of the wealthiest men in the country.”
“I didn’t marry you,” Chad said sharply.
“I’ll bet you didn’t make him sign a prenup,” Brian accused Brianna.
“Of course I didn’t. And I never will, no matter who I marry,” Brianna said. “Chad’s not making any financial claim on me, and I’m not going after his fortune, either, which right now is considerably larger than mine.”
“This is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done,” he said.
“Don’t speak to your daughter like that,” Chad said. “I’m sorry to hear how ill you are, but I’ve told you once before, Brianna deserves your respect. That hasn’t changed.”
“You don’t get to—” Brian began.
“As long as she’s my wife I decide how you get to talk to her,” Chad said.
“No, I decide,” Brianna said. “Dad, he’s right. That was deliberately hurtful, and you should know better.”
For a long moment her father stared at her, his chest rising and falling.
Then he said, “Don’t blame me if he takes you to the cleaners.”
“I won’t. Dad, if you want me to continue with the NASCAR project, I want to assure you there’s no way my personal situation will affect my judgment about the sponsorship.”
“I wouldn’t expect it to,” he said. Of course not—he never pulled his punches with family; he wouldn’t expect her to show her husband’s team any favoritism.
“But what I’d rather do is hand the project over to someone else and be with you,” she said.
“I don’t need—”
“Dad, you’re sick.”
“I’m having chemotherapy,” he said. “Of course I’m sick. The whole idea is that it almost kills you while it cures you. I don’t want you here.”
“Because I’m not good enough,” she blurted.
He tsked. “Don’t be silly.”
“Have I ever been good enough to be your daughter?” she asked, holding his gaze.
There was a long, charged silence. Chad squeezed Brianna’s hand.
“I had to be firm with you.” Brian sagged into his chair. “You’ve seen how some of my peers’ daughters have ended up—driving drunk, posting their sexual exploits on the Internet for the world to see.”
“I wouldn’t have let you down like that,” Brianna said.
Her father nodded. “You’ve been good, a good girl.”
It was more praise than he’d given Brianna her whole life.
“Then trust Brianna to be the daughter you need while you’re ill,” Chad said.
It meant a lot to her that he said that.
Brian addressed his words to her. “I do, but you need to trust me to know my own health. I’ll be around to see this NASCAR season, and I want to be sure I’m backing the right driver. I want you back in Charlotte, doing your job.” He paused. “So far, I’ve been quite impressed with the reports you’ve sent through.”
For her father, this was gushing. She couldn’t help beaming.
“If I go,” she said, “I need your word that you’ll let me know if your medical condition changes.”
“I told you, I’m not going to die.”
She eyeballed him, and at last he said, “Very well.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Brianna rose and hugged her father, who patted her shoulder. As she leaned into him, tears rose. She blinked them away before she straightened. “I’ll be back to see you next week.”
CHAD WAS COUNTING the days until Brianna would walk out of his life. No more of this unsettling feeling that he should be someone he wasn’t. That he might have thrown away his best chance at happiness. Life could go back to blessed normality.
Only, right now, normality didn’t feel that blessed. It felt…empty.
“Cut it out, you guys,” Chad called across the Daytona garage to his brothers, who were engaged in an increasingly heated argument about who would do best in today’s exhibition race. Entry was restricted to the top six cars for each manufacturer, ranked on team owner points from the previous season. Zack had been invited to drive the No. 597 car of Klein Racing. Jerry Klein, the team’s owner, was an old friend of Brady’s, and when his driver had broken his leg on a skiing vacation, he’d done Matheson Racing the favor of offering Zack some race time.
Today’s race wasn’t a points race, but everyone took it seriously as a gauge of the season to come…and of the big race here next weekend.
Trent and Zack had calmed down, but now the ferocious one-upmanship between their teams was getting too vocal. When his brothers had drawn adjacent pit positions, Chad’s first thought had been of the convenience. As he watched one of Trent’s tire guys cuff one of Zack’s, he wasn’t so sure.
“Stop that!” Chad roared. They did, but not without some shoving and cursing. Chad scowled. Used to be that when he said jump, guys jumped without hesitation. Used to be that his brothers could be called into line when necessary and his father would listen to his opinions.
When exactly had he lost control of the team? Of his life?
At around the moment that he’d lost control of his feelings for Brianna, he realized.
Stunned, Chad strode away from the pits, headed back toward the hauler, his mind buzzing. Lost control of his feelings for Brianna? What else could he call it when he thought about her all the time, when his frustrations paled against the pleasure of remembering the sight, the smell, the taste of her? When making love with her seemed more essential than breathing? Yet somehow, he’d screwed things up so much that was no longer a possibility.
Chad knuckled his temples. What was wrong with him?
One answer sprang to mind, but he dismissed it. He wasn’t about to admit he was in love—he’d said that two years ago, and look where that had got them—but he could admit one thing for sure.
I can’t let her go.
BRIANNA MADE the short walk from Garrett Clark’s pit area to Zack Matheson’s, fingering the hot pass she’d been issued for the event. Unlike the cold passes given to most people lucky enough to visit the garage and the pits, her hot pass allowed her to stay in the pits during the race.
Although it was exciting to be here for the exhibition race, it was also a sign she hadn’t completed her task within her original deadline. Her father had thrown a bunch of scenarios at her that he wanted her to consider, including whether the return per dollar spent would be greater if Getaway sponsored a NASC
AR Nationwide Series car…or even two. Should they spread the investment, and the resulting profile, across two less costly cars, or go all-out for the glory of a NASCAR Sprint Cup Series sponsorship? Interesting question, not quickly answered.
Her dad had waved away Brianna’s objection that Getaway would miss out on sponsoring the exhibition race and maybe even next week’s big race. “From what you’ve told me so far,” he said, “FastMax is the stronger team. Their car’s not available until after Daytona, anyway.”
It gave her another week or so with Chad. After that, she wouldn’t see him again. The thought sucked her energy, left her listless.
“Brianna.”
She looked up to find Chad descending the war wagon. He jumped the last few steps to the ground, landing lightly for such a big man. It was both pleasure and pain to look at him, gorgeous in the team shirt that made other men look the same as everyone else. Chad would always stand out.
“Are the guys ready?” she asked.
He shrugged—a strangely casual gesture for Chad, who took everything about racing seriously.
“Chad, is everything okay? Your dad?” She reached out, touched his arm. Because she could, and very soon she wouldn’t be able to.
He looked down at her hand, didn’t answer the question. When he returned his gaze to hers, his eyes were very blue. “Watch the race with me.”
The words were a command, yet the tone was almost a plea.
Was he trying to torture her with his proximity? “You think your commentary will sway the sponsorship?” He had to have heard what her father had said the other day about expecting to hear a recommendation for Matheson Racing. She wondered how he felt, if she’d only added to the pressure on him this week.
“I want to watch the race with you.” No inflection, no clue as to why.
She wanted it, too.
After the prayer and the national anthem, after the drivers had climbed into their cars and obeyed the time-honored command to start their engines, Brianna sat atop the pit box with Chad and Zack’s crew chief.
The drivers started to circle the track. The race was broken into two segments, the first just twenty-five laps. The ten-minute intermission at the end of the first segment was a bonus for the teams, who could find a hundred changes to make to the car setup in that time. The second segment ran fifty laps, and drivers inevitably had to make a fuel stop.
