Play By Play [6] One Sweet Ride

by Jaci Burton

  Patience. She paced the confines of the trailer. She had to be patient, and everything would fall into place. Which was hard to do when all her peers and everyone who’d been with the senator were working so hard right now at the hotel near the convention center, while she was blazing a hole in Gray’s carpet in his trailer, stopping every few minutes to chew the last stubs off her fingernails or send an email or check polls or the latest blogs or statistics.

  Doing nothing when the campaign was about to go into full swing was making her crazy. She wanted to be on the front lines.

  She also wanted to be with Gray. This was a big race. He hadn’t done all that well in the Michigan or Bristol races and he’d dropped in the standings. Now in second, Atlanta was important. She needed to be here with him.

  Actually, she didn’t. Her being here wouldn’t make him race any better. She needed to listen to her own advice. She’d told Stacie that Donny didn’t need her to be here holding his hand. The same held true for Evelyn.

  Still, she wanted to be here, supporting him. She chewed on her fingernail and stared at the latest polls coming up on her laptop.

  “You really shouldn’t be here.”

  She whirled to find Gray staring at her from the steps, horrified that she’d so lost track of time.

  “Tell me I didn’t miss practice.”

  His lips curved as he threw his gear into a chair. “It was practice, Evelyn. Not a race.”

  Dammit. “I’m so sorry. I just popped in here to check some stats and answer a few emails, which I could have done on my phone. And then I got involved reading some political blogs and a few news capsules. Then I made a few phone calls—”

  He jerked her into his arms and kissed her, which always seemed to calm the adrenaline rush work brought out in her. When he pulled away, she was languid and turned on. But still felt guilty.

  “I’m still sorry I missed practice.”

  “And I don’t expect you to park your ass out there and watch me every second.

  You have a job and it’s crunch time. You should be at the convention center. You should pack up and go.”

  She shook her head. “I need to be here with you. You’re my job right now.”

  He tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’ve already agreed to come to the convention.

  Your job here is done. Go work for my dad. I think I can race without you.”

  “You can. But I’m not going to let you. There will be plenty of time for me at the convention after you race this weekend.”

  He slid his arms around her. “You’re a stubborn woman, Evelyn.”

  “I prefer determined.”

  *******

  QUALIFYING HAD BEEN TOUGH, HOT AS HELL, AND JUST as frustrating as a race. And it hadn’t yielded the results Gray had been looking for.

  A sixth-place spot wasn’t going to put him where he wanted to be. He thought his time had been great. Obviously not great enough. Even worse, Donny had crashed during qualifying, so he’d have to start the race in the back.

  After he answered what seemed like a thousand questions about Preston Racing team’s backslide over the past few weeks, which to Gray hadn’t seemed like a backslide at all, he was hot and tired and in need of Evelyn’s sweet face. He looked around the pits for her, shocked as hell to see his father there.

  What the hell was Mitchell Preston doing here? As far as Gray knew, his father had never once attended one of his races. How utterly timely for him to show up at qualifying, a week before the convention. Of course he was all smiles as the cameras were in his face. Gray could well imagine what his father was talking about.

  Himself. His campaign. Stumping for votes. Telling the American people how important it was that they vote for him. Maybe something tying Gray into his campaign.

  All bullshit.

  It was the last insult to an already miserable fucking day. He headed over to where his father was surrounded by cameras. Evelyn caught his gaze and smiled, meeting him halfway, looping her arm around his and stopping his forward progress.

  “Are you surprised?”

  He dragged his gaze away from his dad. “What?”

  “That your father’s here.”

  He dragged his head from the fog of confusion. “What are you talking about? Did you arrange this?”

  Now it was her turn to look confused. “Me? Of course not. I had no idea he was going to show up. He shocked the hell out of me when he called and said he was here.

  I scrambled to get him in. Thank God for Ian, who helped us out. He hung out here watching everyone qualify, Gray.”

  Sure. He had the whole time to work the crowd. “I’m sure he did.”

  She frowned. “Aren’t you happy? He’s talking to reporters right now.”

  “Of course he is. That’s what he does. That’s why he’s here.”

  It was just like school again, his father only showing up to stump for votes. He was only here for self-serving reasons. Not for Gray.

  Not ever for Gray.

  He waded into the crowd of photographers and reporters and pulled his father close.

  “Gray,” his father said, his smile wide. “You did so well today. I had no idea you were so talented. I’m so proud of you.”

  Of course he had no idea, because he’d never shown up. But he wouldn’t do this here. Not in front of all these reporters.

  He smiled for the cameras, but turned so only his father could hear.

  “I won’t let you manipulate me, old man. Get the fuck out of my sport.”

  He turned and walked away, not bothering to look back to see the expression on his father’s face.

  Because he didn’t care how Mitchell Preston felt.

  He should never have agreed to this media circus. He knew from the outset it would be a mistake, a clusterfuck.

  Seeing his father at home in the middle of that media storm of reporters and photographers set Gray off. This should have been about racing, not politics, and he knew then he’d been right all along.

  He should have said no. No matter what kind of emotional blackmail his mother had tried to use on him, he should have said no.

  Because he was suddenly eight years old again, with that gut-punch feeling of hurt because his dad had just let him down.

  And no matter how old he got, that feeling was never going to go away.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  EVELYN LEFT THE SENATOR IN THE HANDS OF HIS AIDES, instructing them to wind down the interviews and get the senator out of there, that there’d be no joint interviews with Gray and Mitchell Preston today. She made up the excuse that Gray had other commitments today, and they’d try for another day.

  She knew where to find him—in his trailer, the only place he could be assured of privacy.

  Surprisingly, he hadn’t locked her out. She shut the door, found him nursing a beer, his fire suit hanging around his hips.

  “What was that about?”

  He shrugged and ignored her, taking another long swallow of beer.

  She moved into the room and stood in front of him, arms crossed. “Your father came here today to watch qualifying, you know.”

  He smiled around the rim of the bottle. “My father came today to use me to get votes and face time.”

  “Uh, no. The only thing he said on camera was how proud he was of you, and what an amazing driver you were.”

  Gray snorted, tossed the beer into the trash and got another out of the fridge, then resumed his seat.

  Irritated, she leaned against the arm of the chair across from him. “Why do you find that so hard to believe?”

  He didn’t even look at her, just past her. “Because he never once saw me play ball when I was a kid. Or in high school or in college. He was always too busy with politics, with his career, which was so much more important than his own kid. Except one time, he showed up at my game. God, I was so excited to see him there, until I realized it was an election year. He wasn’t even watching
me play. He was glad-handing the parents in the stands, trying to get votes. I could have walked off the field and he wouldn’t have known the difference. He didn’t even know I was there.”

  “I’m sorry, Gray. That must have hurt.”

  He shrugged. “I got over it, and got used to his indifference.”

  “I can’t imagine you could ever get used to that. But that’s not the Mitchell Preston I know. The Mitchell Preston I know is warm and caring.”

  He dragged his gaze to her. “Yeah, he was always warm and caring with beautiful women.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I told you he’s never been like that with me.”

  “So you’ve said.”

  “Don’t be insulting to me just because you’re pissed at your dad. I think you know me better than that.”

  “Do I? You seem to defend him a lot.”

  He was hurt, and lashing out at her because his father wasn’t there to take his anger out on. A part of her understood that, even though his words hurt her. “I defend him because of who he is and what he stands for. He isn’t the man you describe to me.

  Believe me, I know about his past. I wasn’t going to work for someone I hadn’t fully vetted. But after his heart attack, he changed.”

  Gray frowned. “What heart attack? My father never had a heart attack.”

  “Uh, yeah, he did, Gray.”

  “When?”

  “Eight years ago. It nearly killed him, and it sure as hell scared the shit out of him. It changed his life and changed his outlook on everything, from politics to his relationships with his staff, the way he lived his life and his relationship with his wife.

  He said he reached out to you afterward, but you refused to respond.”

  Gray shook his head, unable to fathom what Evelyn said was true. Eight years ago he’d been . . . what? Racing. Loving his life, just getting started.

  He didn’t remember his father contacting him. Then again, they corresponded, but that was right after his grandfather died, too. When Gray inherited the money. He remembered his father calling him, trying to see him. He figured his father was going to try to convince him to reevaluate and go to Harvard. He wanted no part of that, so he resisted the contact with his father.

  No. “That can’t be true.”

  “It is true.”

  He went for his phone, called his mother.

  “Where are you?” he asked.

  “At the convention hotel.”

  “I’m coming over. Don’t leave.”

  “All right.”

  He looked at Evelyn.

  “I’ll come with you.”

  He gave a short nod and went into the bedroom to change clothes, came out a few minutes later and grabbed his keys. The drive to the convention hotel was a short one.

  He didn’t say anything on the way and fortunately Evelyn didn’t either.

  He had nothing to say, all he could do was think back all those years.

  His mother opened the door to her suite.

  “He’s not here,” she said as she let them in. “He has meetings.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about Dad’s heart attack?”

  His mom looked at Evelyn, then went to sit down on one of the sofas in the suite.

  “Your father didn’t want you to know. He didn’t want you to feel obligated to be by his side simply because he’d fallen ill. He wanted to repair his relationship with you based on mutual respect and understanding, not because of his health.”

  Gray sucked in a breath. “The media doesn’t know.”

  “No. He’d fully recovered. He changed his entire lifestyle, his diet. No more alcohol and he exercises all the time now. It was a life-changing event for him, Gray, in so many ways.”

  And Gray had never known about it.

  “And he called me?”

  “A few times, until you made it clear you wanted no contact. He made Carolina and me promise not to tell you about it, so we didn’t. He figured you’d come around eventually.”

  But he hadn’t, because he thought his father was the same man he’d always been.

  “You believe he’s changed?” he asked his mother.

  She smiled at him. “I doubt I’d still be with him if he hadn’t.” She patted the spot next to her on the sofa and Gray sat next to her.

  “I’ll go get us something to drink,” Evelyn said. “Give you two some time to chat.”

  “Thank you,” Loretta said.

  When Evelyn left the room, his mother grasped his hand in hers.

  “I know you think I was blind to your father’s faults all those years, but I wasn’t. I put up with a lot from him, but those days were about to come to an end. We were fighting a lot and I told him I was through.

  “After the heart attack, he cried for the first time in years, told me coming that close to death made him realize what an arrogant fool he had been. He told me he had the best life, the best family, and he’d taken it all for granted, that he’d put his career first and he’d just assumed I’d follow him along wherever he went. He apologized to me and asked me for forgiveness. He confessed all his failings to me and I told him I’d stay with him under one condition—that we go to marriage counseling. He agreed instantly.”

  “That surprises me, considering if that ever came out it could hurt his career.”

  His mother nodded. “It surprised me, too, since your father’s public image was always his priority. But he told me he didn’t care. He promised me that I would forever and always come first in his life, and since then he hasn’t once backed away from that promise. We’re together on his campaign trips, and his phone and his email are an open book to me. It’s like we have a second chance at love again. That trust was hard earned, but he has it from me again.”

  “How did he ever get to the VP position given his past?”

  She smiled. “He never cheated on me, Gray. He was a workaholic and a heavy drinker, and often an arrogant ass, but he never cheated. He liked to flirt with young girls. I hated that.”

  Gray gave her a dubious look. His mother shot one right back at him.

  “Do I look like a fool, son?”

  “No, ma’am, you don’t.”

  “Trust me, I’d know. He told me he wanted to feel young, and he always gave the ladies the eye, but he would have never cheated on me. And if he had, believe me, when they vet someone for vice president they’re very thorough. They’ve gone through his past with a fine-toothed comb.”

  “Does Cameron know about the heart attack?”

  His mother nodded. “Of course. We held nothing back. Cameron appreciated your father’s honesty. I wasn’t kidding when I said your father has changed. He’s one of the healthiest men in politics now.”

  That’s why his dad looked so different when Gray saw him at the ranch.

  “And Cameron believes in him.”

  His mother nodded. “Yes. He believes in your father’s policies, too, and his vision for the future.”

  “And you don’t think it’s going to come out during the campaign.”

  She shrugged. “If it does, we’ll deal with it. I don’t think it will matter. He is who he is now, not who he once was. Cameron believes in him. So do I. He’s an amazing man, Gray. He’s warm and compassionate and he loves his family.”

  Or at least some of them. Gray gave her a confused look. “But there’s been this Grand Canyon–wide chasm between him and me and I don’t understand why.”

  His mother smiled. “He’s tried, Grayson. You keep shutting him down. If you think about it, he’s been accommodating of all your requests—like using the lodge at the country club, or using the plane anytime you want it. He’s been trying for years to open a dialogue with you. It’s been you stonewalling the reconciliation.”

  Gray sat back against the sofa. His mother was right, at least partially. He and his father had always had lousy communication skills, and God knew he always had blinders on regarding his
dad, always wanted to see the worst where he was concerned. But maybe he just hadn’t seen the signs, maybe he refused to see the olive branch his father had been trying to extend all these years.

  And when he saw his father with his fans and the media today, he had just assumed the worst, because of the painful memories of his childhood.

  He looked at his mother. “So now what?”

  She squeezed his hand. “I guess that’s up to you.”

  *******

  GRAY FOUND HIS FATHER EXITING A MEETING WITH A few other senators. He paused when he saw Gray, no doubt expecting some sort of confrontation.

  Gray approached and his dad excused himself from his colleagues.

  “Got a minute?” Gray asked.

  “For you, all the time in the world.”

  Gray took a deep breath. “Let’s go talk somewhere quiet.”

  “Sure.” He led them down the hall. One of his aides, a cute brunette in her mid-twenties, stopped him. “Megan, this is my son, Gray. This is Megan Alberts, one of my aides.”

  Gray shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You, too, Mr. Preston.” She turned to the senator. “Senator, the governor called and needs a few minutes of your time as soon as you’re available. He says it’s important.”

  He nodded. “Tell him I’m with my son right now and I’ll let him know as soon as I’m free. This is a priority.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  She gave a quick nod to Gray and hustled off.

  “I know you’re busy,” Gray said.

  “I’ve spent my whole life being busy. I think you and I need to talk.” He used his key card and let them into an empty suite. The lights came on.

  “Something to drink?” his father asked.

  “I’m good right now, thanks.”

  “Okay. I’m going to grab a glass of water, if you don’t mind. All this talking makes me thirsty.”

  Gray waited while his father put some ice in a glass and poured water from the well-stocked bar. He looked out the window at the convention center and the city ahead.

  “You’re damn good at what you do, Gray. I’m sorry I missed it until now.”