Almost Famous

by Gina Wilkins

  Stacy noticed that Andrew was fascinated by the interlude, while Lisa and Katie merely looked resigned, apparently accustomed to this sort of thing.

  “We’re really glad you’re back, Jake,” one of the young men said as Jake handed him a signed sheet of paper.

  “Thanks,” Jake replied. “I’m glad to be back.”

  “You’re good to go? All healed from your accident?”

  “Yeah, I’m doing great. Thanks.”

  “Sorry about your season. But you’ll get ’em next year, right?”

  “You bet.”

  “Oh, and, uh, sorry about your friend.”

  Jake’s voice never changed, though everyone else within hearing cringed to varying degrees. “Thanks. I appreciate that. See y’all at the track tomorrow. Good night, now.”

  Skillfully extricating themselves, the racing group moved on, saying good-night and climbing into different cars to go their separate ways for the evening. Jake had driven Stacy and Andrew. Andrew scooted forward on the backseat to ask Jake, “Do people do that a lot? Mob you for your autograph, I mean.”

  “Often enough. You get used to it. Sit back and put on your seat belt.”

  “I’ll be okay. Do you ever get tired of signing autographs? Because I think it would be pretty cool to be famous.”

  “The car doesn’t move until the seat belts are fastened,” Jake said firmly, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

  Andrew heaved a sigh, but settled back in the seat and snapped the restraint into place. “Now you sound like my dad.”

  “If that means your dad doesn’t let you ride in a vehicle without using proper safety equipment, then I’ll take it as a compliment.”

  “Nick would never let Andrew ride in a car without a seat belt,” Stacy commented.

  “Good for him. You talk to any driver and he’ll tell you that conscientiously using our safety equipment saves our lives every week,” Jake told Andrew, glancing in the rearview mirror as he drove out of the restaurant parking lot. “We don’t take unnecessary risks.”

  “Okay, I’m wearing it already.”

  “Good. Make sure you always do. As for being famous, yeah, it’s cool sometimes, but there’s other times when it’s kind of a pain.”

  Stacy wondered if that comment had anything to do with her own distaste for public attention.

  Passing easily through all the layers of security around the track, Jake took them straight to the motor home for the remainder of the night. He explained that he would go home himself to get some rest for the long day ahead, and advised them to do the same.

  Already tired from the eventful day they’d just spent, Stacy looked forward to a few hours of quiet. And since Andrew would have access to state-of-the-art television and video game technology in the motor home, he seemed content with the plan, as well. He would never admit that he was tired, of course, but Stacy could see that he was on sensory overload. It would be good for him to get some rest before tomorrow’s events.

  Jake walked them to the door of the motor home, exchanging greetings with the few people they met along the way. Although noisy parties were in full swing in the area where fans’ RVs were parked for the night, the area reserved for racing families was quieter, less active.

  “I told Dad I’d call him tonight and tell him all about the day,” Andrew said when they walked into the motor home. “I’ll go into the bedroom to make the call. See you tomorrow, Jake, okay?”

  “Was that a ruse to leave us alone for a few minutes?” Jake asked quizzically when the bedroom door closed firmly behind the boy.

  Locking her hands in front of her, Stacy tried to smile. “Maybe he was just impatient to tell Nick all about his day.”

  But she wouldn’t put it past him to have been leaving them alone together, either. She remembered his saying that he could get used to this life; maybe he figured he could do so through his aunt.

  “Maybe,” Jake said with a smile that was a little too knowing. “But it serves the same purpose. I was wondering how I was going to sneak a good-night kiss.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “You didn’t pay him to go in there or anything, did you?”

  Feigning insult, he shook his head. “Absolutely not. But only because I didn’t think of it,” he added.

  She shook her head with a sigh. She believed that it hadn’t been his idea, but she wouldn’t have put it past him, either. As she had noted earlier, Jake went after what he wanted with a single-minded determination that had served him well in his career. He needed to understand, however, that his wants weren’t the only ones that counted in a relationship—not that they had a relationship, exactly. Nor would they if he couldn’t accept that nonnegotiable fact.

  Which, of course, was only one of the obstacles to a relationship between them.

  He pushed a strand of hair off her face, smiling down at her. “Such a serious look. I would ask what you’re thinking, but I figure you would tell me if you wanted me to know.”

  “I was wondering how long you’re satisfied once you achieve one of your goals. How long before you have to go after the next objective? The next win, the next trophy, the next title?”

  He seemed startled by her serious response to his whimsical question. She was a bit startled herself. The words had left her before she’d had time to think about them.

  “How literally do you mean that?” he asked after a moment. “Is this really about racing?”

  Maybe he was a little too perceptive. “Take it as literally as you want.”

  After only a momentary hesitation, he shrugged, still standing very close to her. “I’m never content with a win. Not for long, anyway. I start looking toward the next race, and then the one after that. I’m determined to win a championship title, and after I accomplish that—which I will—I’ll want another one. And I’ll go after it.”

  Well, he’d answered honestly. Maybe a bit too much so.

  “And now you’re wondering if I have the same philosophy toward women,” he murmured.

  She didn’t respond. But maybe that was an answer in itself.

  “No,” he said flatly. “I don’t.”

  She couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “I don’t disbelieve you.”

  “That’s not the same thing.”

  She was aware of that.

  His hand was on her face again now, his smile bittersweet. “I’m not looking for the next conquest, Stacy. When it comes to that part of my life, I’m looking for forever.”

  She held her breath as he lowered his face toward hers.

  “Aunt Stacy?”

  She and Jake broke apart as if they had been caught doing something illegal. Clearing her throat, Stacy looked toward her nephew, who stood in the open bedroom doorway looking apologetic for the interruption. “What is it, Andrew?”

  “Grandma’s on the phone. She beeped in while I was talking to Dad. She said she’s been trying to call you but your cell phone’s turned off.”

  It wasn’t turned off, but she had turned the ringer to silent mode so it wouldn’t disrupt dinner. She had instructed Andrew to do the same with his own. She had planned to check messages later, after Jake left.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Tell her I’ll call her back in just a minute.”

  “Okay.” Andrew closed the door again.

  The mood broken now, Jake dropped his hand. “I guess I’d better go. I’ll send J.R. in the morning to collect you and Andrew. I’ll be crazy busy tomorrow, so we won’t have a lot of time to spend together, but I’ve made sure you and Andrew will get the whole race experience.”

  She walked with him to the door. “We’ll look forward to it.”

  He reached out to snag the back of her head with one hand, pulling her mouth to his for a quick, hard kiss. “Good night, Stacy. Sleep well.”

  As she set the security system, she wondered if she would sleep a wink. She was more likely to toss and turn during the nigh
t, much too aware that she was sleeping in Jake’s bed. And trying to convince herself that she was glad Andrew was with her this weekend so that there was no chance she and Jake would be sharing that bed before she returned to her real life back home.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  RACE DAY WAS as frantic and fascinating as Stacy had expected. Jake hadn’t been exaggerating about his entire day being scheduled in five-to-fifteen-minute intervals, beginning at 8:00 a.m. and continuing until just before the green flag.

  She finally met Pam, a tall, attractive and intimidatingly efficient redhead. Pam and Jake quite obviously had a close relationship, communicating almost without words as she shepherded him through his responsibilities. And yet, Stacy realized almost from the first moment of seeing them together that there was no romance between them at all. Friendship, definitely. Mutual respect and admiration. Even some easy flirtation. But that was the extent of it.

  She couldn’t help wondering why nothing more had developed between them. They were both so striking, so involved in the world of racing, so driven and ambitious. Pam looked as comfortable as Jake in the public eye. On the surface, they seemed like the perfect couple. And yet she sensed somehow that neither of them had ever wanted more than a professional friendship from the other.

  Maybe they were too much alike.

  Watching Jake that afternoon, she realized that he was surrounded by women almost all the time. Fans, associates, people connected through his sponsors and teammates. Some were almost embarrassingly eager to catch his attention; others were much more subtle but still seemed interested in getting to know him better. He treated them all the same way. Warm, friendly, flirtatious—but at a careful distance.

  She didn’t believe for a moment that he’d led a monk’s existence the past few years. But she got the distinct feeling that he’d been very careful in his liaisons. She supposed he had been so focused on his career goals that he hadn’t let anything else distract him for long.

  Only now was he beginning to think about expanding his life off the track—and she was the one he seemed to be focusing on. For now. And Stacy had no more idea why he’d chosen her than she understood why he hadn’t chosen Pam, or one of the other women who traveled in the same circles he did.

  Andrew loved every minute of the day, from watching autograph sessions to eating the grilled-chicken lunch served to the team outside the hauler to browsing through the souvenir trailers outside the stands. He wore his official pass proudly, almost strutting whenever one of the crew acknowledged him by name. He was so thrilled to be part of the inside crowd, at least for one weekend.

  Stacy was touched to watch all of the Woodrow Racing drivers meet with several gravely ill children who were at the race through a wish-fulfilling organization. Even Andrew was somber during that encounter as he watched the wan little faces light up when the drivers in their colorful uniforms walked into the room. She wasn’t at all surprised that Jake was so gentle and sweet with the kids, but Ronnie and Mike and Scott were just as kind. She supposed they had all done this before, but she could tell that none of them saw it as a chore.

  Andrew perked up again when he was allowed to sit in on the drivers’ meeting during which NASCAR officials laid out the rules and announcements for the evening’s race. Later, they had a prime location from which to watch the introductions of the drivers, and Andrew loudly cheered the entire Woodrow Racing lineup. He had warned Stacy that all the top drivers would be greeted with a fair share of boos as well as cheers. She’d thought she was prepared for that ritual, but it still startled her to hear how fiercely fans of other drivers expressed their derision for the competition.

  Jake received mostly cheers and applause for his first race back from his near disastrous accident. Both J.R. and Andrew assured Stacy that he usually had plenty of boos, but even the most ardent fans of other drivers could express their respect for Jake’s determination to get back into his car. They wanted to see him lose to their personal heroes, of course, but they were glad he was back to put up a challenge.

  It would have been hard to be at the track and not get into the spirit of the activities. As the national anthem played and fighter jets flew overhead and flags waved and team members lined up in their bold team colors, Stacy felt her pulse rate increasing, her muscles tensing in anticipation.

  Still in pristine condition, the cars gleamed in the bright artificial lights. In response to the famous cue, forty-three engines roared to life simultaneously, sounding for all the world like restless, hungry creatures barely held under restraint as they demanded to be set free. The noise was so loud she could almost feel it vibrating inside her. Only the headset she wore kept it from being deafening.

  Through that headset, she heard Wade and Jake talking, Wade giving encouragement and instructions in his calm drawl, Jake’s voice bearing an edge of nerves and adrenaline. The cars began to roll behind the pace car, and Andrew glanced at her with a broad smile that made her throat tighten. He looked so excited. Happier than she had seen him in quite a while.

  He felt a part of this, she realized. Special. Here, he wasn’t the short, awkward teenager whose mother had abandoned him and whose father had to work such long hours to support him. Here, he was a friend of famous race car drivers, sitting in a place of honor on top of Jake’s hauler where thousands of race fans envied him that privilege.

  She and Andrew had been given free run of the hauler and the pit area, as long as they stayed out of the team’s way. They were to help themselves to snacks and drinks in the hauler, and make themselves comfortable in the lounge area to watch on TV if they grew tired of being outside.

  She might have thought she’d have felt conspicuous sitting up there herself, but she realized that there were people perched on every available surface at the venue. The stands held over a hundred thousand spectators, and the infield was filled with motor homes, campers, buses, haulers, almost all topped with race fans. Letting Andrew take the prime viewing spot, she stayed more in the background with Lisa, who also wore a headset and sat in a folding chair next to Stacy’s.

  Jake had kept his word about not drawing any special attention to her that day, she mused as she waited for the green flag to fall. While he’d made sure that she and Andrew had missed very little, they had watched primarily from the sidelines. Jake had looked their way fairly often, as if to make sure they were still there, but he’d been fairly discreet about it.

  Stacy had been aware of a few curious glances, but she had shamelessly used her nephew as a shield, standing slightly behind him as if he were the honored guest for the weekend and she nothing more than a chaperone. She had always been pretty good at fading into the background when she wanted. She figured her average, girl-next-door looks stood her in good stead for that. She doubted that she looked like the type of woman who would captivate famous bachelor driver Jake Hinson, despite his flattering behavior toward her recently.

  The pace car left the track and the race was under way.

  Stacy settled back in the chair that had been provided for her for the upcoming four hours or so. The weather was nice, just cool enough for jeans and a light jacket. Andrew had brought a denim jacket, but tonight he wore a deep purple Jake Hinson jacket. The swag kept piling up, Stacy thought with a smile, and Andrew was enjoying every bit of it.

  She never would have imagined that she could sit for four hours watching cars running in circles. She would have thought she’d grow bored. Restless. But that had been before she’d cared so much about one of the drivers.

  That thought made her so nervous that she cleared her throat and forced herself to concentrate more fiercely on the action on and around the track. For all she knew, this could be the only race she would ever attend, she reminded herself, especially from this insider’s vantage point. She shouldn’t waste the opportunity fretting about why she was there in the first place.

  A sudden crashing sound from the track made her jump and look anxiously in the direction of a cloud of brake smoke.
Someone had hit the wall, she realized anxiously, and another couple of cars had been unable to avoid impact.

  “Jake’s okay,” Lisa said loudly, pointing toward another section of the track where the Number 82 car was slowing for the caution. “He wasn’t near it.”

  Relieved, Stacy sat back in her seat, trying to relax. Even if he was wrecked this evening, Jake would be fine, she reminded herself. He had assured her repeatedly that the car was safe and that he wouldn’t be hurt even if he hit the wall or another car. Just in case, he had warned her and Andrew that the wrecks sometimes looked bad, but that injuries were increasingly rare, so they shouldn’t get too anxious if he should happen to be involved in one that evening.

  Not that he planned to wreck, he had told them with a laugh. He’d intended to win.

  Jake came in for a pit stop during the caution, as did most of the other cars, and Stacy found that a fascinating process to watch from this close. The team stood poised for action as the Number 82 car made its way down the pit road, then swarmed over the wall and around the car like precisely choreographed robots, filling the tank and changing all four tires with dizzying speed.

  On instructions from Wade, they made some sort of adjustment while the car was there, but she didn’t have a clue what they were talking about. Andrew seemed to know what was going on; he watched the process intently and seemed satisfied when Jake peeled out of the tight space and headed back onto the track at the required pit road speed.

  It was going to be a long race, she reminded herself. She really should try to relax or she would be exhausted by the time it ended. But it was hard knowing Jake was out there, knowing how much it meant to him to perform well tonight. She wanted so badly for him to win, or at least to be pleased with his finish.

  The extent of her anxiety for him made her grow nervous all over again—not for Jake this time, but for herself. She was taking more than a few risks, as well. Her heart was in the danger zone, and she was afraid the damage would be irreparable if this particular challenge ended in a hard crash.