She hid her bemusement at the mixed expression on JD’s face when he came back into the bar alone. He gave her the eyebrow shrug, as if to say it’s not you, it’s him.
The more she watched him, the better this race driver looked. He had a rugged handsomeness that appealed to her.
JD stared at her, spinning his keys around his finger. “You want to go for a ride?”
“Sure. I spent so much time in a race shop as a kid, if I don’t see one from time to time I feel deprived.”
“Well, let’s take care of that. We don’t want anyone feeling deprived. About anything.”
Whatever other “plans” he’d had, he’d been forced to put them on the back burner. Things were definitely going her way, and she liked the powerful feeling it gave her. She liked to be in control of the situation. It made the task much easier.
As they headed out of the bar she said, “I’m also excited about seeing what could be my next big investment. I hope it’s not interfering too much with your other plans.”
“Not a problem,” JD said. “You are my top priority at the moment.” He actually sounded sincere.
“Whether you like it or not?”
He chuckled. “I don’t think the night will be a complete loss.”
She liked his tone and sense of humor. “I’ll do my best.”
Giambi had started talking to someone, but as they were passing he turned to her and said, “Have fun. JD, show the lady what we’re all about.”
Repeating the words she’d just used, he said, “I’ll do my best.” He exchanged a knowing glance with her.
She told Giambi that she’d see him later and they could continue their discussion.
“I look forward to it.”
When they shook hands, Beth held his just a second beyond what would have been normal, throwing a smile at this repository of secrets. “I have a feeling we’re going to be doing some business together.”
“I believe we will,” Giambi replied cheerfully. “Most definitely.”
In the elevator Beth was still curious about the date that JD had given up for her. She needed to know if it was something that might potentially be a threat to her. “I hope I didn’t mess up a date with your girlfriend.”
“Haven’t got one. It was just some people from Hollywood who wanted me to show them around. They’ll be here for a few days so it’s no problem.”
No threat there.
“Scouting movie locations?”
“Actually, a couple of them are interested in investing in racing. And, maybe down the road, we can talk about coming up with a script.”
“Starring JD Hawke?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know if I’m much of an actor. Maybe a supporting role.”
“You have a good look for the screen,” Beth said, gazing into his eyes. “The strong, mischievous type.” She gave him a warm smile.
“You still need to be able to act.”
“You’re kidding, right? How many movies have you seen lately?”
“Hey, don’t knock Hollywood. I thought The Matrix was great.”
“Too many special effects.”
“Yeah, but Keanu Reeves is the king of the demon ride, which I do appreciate.”
“What’s that?”
“He likes to ride his motorcycle at night with no lights at high speeds. Nearly killed him a couple of times.”
“Sounds more like a death wish ride.”
“He’s had a tragic life, but he doesn’t let it make a wallflower out of him.”
“More like a funeral bouquet, if he keeps that up. A lot of people have tragic lives—they don’t deal with it by going on demon death rides.”
He shrugged.
She smiled. Arguing with a racecar driver about risky driving was something of an oxymoron. Besides, deep down inside, she was a little reckless with speed herself, but she didn’t like to admit it openly.
When they exited the elevator into a small, private garage, she said, “I want to see the shop, but that’s just an excuse.”
“For what?”
“Getting to know you. If I’m investing in somebody, I want to know who they are. Not just by reputation, or from other people’s opinions. Knowing people is how I do business.”
He gave her a slow nod. “Okay. Sure. I’ll do the best I can to give you what you want.”
“Good.” She aborted the sexual comebacks that immediately came to mind. “If you know a nice quiet bar where we could have a drink first, that would be great. We’ll see the shop later. The night is young.”
“There’s a place on the way that’s real nice.”
They walked toward a group of cars.
“You don’t have family in Formula One?” she asked.
JD shook his head. “They’re all gear-heads. But I’m the rebel. My brother’s in NASCAR, my dad, too. But I always had a thing about open wheel. Went from midgets right to the Indy Racing League and on to Formula One.” He paused, then pointed. “We’re taking this baby,” JD said as they walked around a pillar and headed for a car that took Beth’s breath away.
Beth stopped dead. “Oh, my God!”
“You like?”
Beth’s knees went weak. “Are you kidding. A Bugatti isn’t a car. It’s the speed of light captured in metal.”
She touched the hood with her fingers, gently, as if touching a work of art, an exotic sculpture. “I was at the London auction two years ago where one of these babies went for one-point-five million Euros. I came very close to buying it and have regretted not doing so ever since.” In truth, she couldn’t remember ever having seen this car before.
She stared for a moment at the world’s most powerful sports car, the Bugatti Veyron. This one was a bright red metallic with a black pearl configuration. “It looks alive.”
“Turn the key and you’ll see some life. Maybe the finest road machine ever built,” JD said. “Let’s take her for a spin.”
He flipped the keys in the air and snatched them with boyish glee.
She had the distinct impression Giambi didn’t give up his prize possession often or easily. It told her a lot about how he felt about JD. Or her.
“You’re the first person Giambi has ever let me take for a ride in his car. You’re one special lady.”
“I feel duly privileged.”
JD watched her reaction to the Bugatti, enjoying how her eyes widened. He appreciated her understanding that this was no ordinary sports car.
He was equally impressed that she not only knew the car, but had nearly bought one. There was something else about her he couldn’t put his finger on, but it was an attitude thing. Beneath all the sophisticated elegance of a super-rich widow was something wild, and he couldn’t wait to get to know that aspect of her personality.
Anne Hurley didn’t wait for him to open her door. Instead, she slid into the narrow passenger seat and eased herself into it. The Bugatti wasn’t built for comfort, it was built for speed.
“This baby flies,” JD said. “Only street car that gives me the same feel as a true racing machine.”
“Anything that can go zero to sixty in two-point-four seconds better give you that racing feel.”
“I take it you have a thing for speed?”
She gave him one of her little guttural laughs and said she actually craved speed. He liked that laugh, it had the sound of badness to it. As if underneath all the refinement, this was a lady to get down and real with.
Maybe, before this night was over, he was going to owe Salvatore a big thank-you.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Let’s do it.”
He turned the key in the ignition, and the roar of the engine vibrated throughout his body.
She turned to him. “God, it’s almost as good as sex.”
“Wait,” he said. “It gets better.” And drove out of the garage.
Chapter 7
I n truth, Beth had never ridden in a Bugatti before in her life, though she’d read about them and knew how
rare and expensive they were. The roar and thrust were exhilarating.
“Nothing like it,” she said, watching his hand shift gears. A surge of excitement ripped through her.
“It’s definitely got something special under that hood.”
“Let’s do part of the race course,” Beth suggested, knowing that any wheelman worth his salt couldn’t possibly refuse such a suggestion. She was into her Anne Hurley character now and loving every moment.
JD smiled his approval. “Whatever the lady wants, the lady gets.”
As they drove through the streets up the hill from St. Devote in
Casino Square
, she thought this might be the time to ask a few questions. “How long have you been associated with Giambi?”
“Couple years. Actually I met him after I wrecked in San Marino.”
She knew JD had lost his ride shortly after that incident and he was having trouble finding a new team.
He turned toward the Hotel Metropole then turned again toward the Monte Carlo Grand. Traffic prevented him from getting into any kind of speed as he shot past the Virage Du Portier and into the tunnel.
He said, “I’ve done around one-seventy in here. That’s the top speed on the course.” But the traffic prevented him from even going the speed limit.
“I saw you drive in Bahrain two years ago,” Beth said, drawing on all the videos she had watched in her villa. “In my opinion, you weren’t doing any illegal blocking. I totally disagreed with the black flag. They stole that race from you.”
“I like the way you see things. They sure did steal my race. I owned it,” JD said, anger creasing his brow. “Thank you. That idiot behind me acted like he was running NASCAR. He was trying to bump-draft me with an air cushion. I had to move out. It was purely a defensive maneuver on my part to keep control of the car.”
Once out in the French countryside, he opened up the car. They were driving the roads of the Grand Prix now and she was loving it. Beth felt as if she were in a movie, or the actual race, taking in mile after mile of some of the best-known roads in the world. She let herself relax as JD took complete control of this fantastic machine. It was thrilling to watch his transformation, from Southern gentleman to a totally focused racer who loved the thrill of an open road and a grip on the steering wheel of a fast car. The smells of the night and the nearby ocean flowed over her from the open windows as they flew along the narrow streets. The Bugatti hugged the road as if it was on rails; the G-forces, when he cornered and then opened it wide, were like taking off in a fighter jet.
Though the shifter in the Bugatti was nothing like the type on the wheel that was used in Formula One, JD shifted gears so smoothly she wouldn’t have known except for the change in the whine of the engine.
He slowed, and glanced her way. “What do you think?”
“I think I need one of these,” she purred. She wanted to tell him to keep going, continue driving the course until daylight, but she knew that was impossible. It was time to get down to business if she was ever going to find out the details behind Giambi’s blackmailer and uncover his connection to her father. She was here in Monaco for a reason, and that reason didn’t include racing around the countryside with an incredibly charming man in an obscenely expensive car…or did it?
He laughed, and for a crazy instant she thought he could hear her thoughts. She stiffened as he said, “It’s really an amazing piece of machinery. Salvatore drives it like it’s a damn golf cart.”
She relaxed again, and sat up in the seat. “That’s terrible for the engine.”
“This car is a racehorse. It has to run.”
“Absolutely. I couldn’t agree more.” They passed a small bar with people spilling out onto the sidewalk in front of it. “That place looks like fun. Can I buy you a drink?” Beth asked.
JD pulled in behind the bar. The small quaint town had cobblestone streets and dim street lighting. The place almost looked magical.
Before he could get out, she touched his arm and said, “JD, I’m a professional at reading people. I play poker with the best in the world. What are your instructions? Giambi didn’t send you on this escort mission in the middle of the night without a purpose.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
She decided to put it right to him, get their situation clear. She said, “I’m sure you are. Look, it works both ways. You’re supposed to either woo me, or check out if I’m really serious. You’re on a mission. We’re going in to have a drink and get to know each other. I like you. I know what kind of talent you are. I’m very familiar with your career and when I heard you might be coming back into it, and that you were with Giambi, a man with a shady past and financial issues, I decided to see what I could do. I have a lot of money and I want to invest it in a sure thing. So let’s be honest with each other. Okay?”
“Okay,” he said, but his eyes told a different story. His gaze had darted behind her for just an instant, and she immediately picked up the truth.
Beth smiled. Well, JD, you’re lying through your pretty bleached teeth, but I’ll play along for a while. “Great. I’m so glad we can be honest with each other.”
At least she now knew how to read JD. So far, so good.
He escorted her in through the back door of the bar.
The bar was extremely noisy. Everyone inside was into a soccer match on the TV above the bar, so JD took her out onto the patio where they could have some privacy.
They ordered drinks and chatted about racing, then she jumped right back on him.
“So tell me. What are Salvatore Giambi’s concerns?”
He took a sip of his vodka martini before answering. “I don’t really know, other than he just wants you to get a good feel for what we’re about. See the high-tech shop he’s building. Get to know what you would be investing in. Which, of course, includes me.”
“It’s important we learn to trust each other,” she said, trying once again to get him to open up to her. “I’m potentially investing in Giambi because of you, not him.”
“So what’s this all about?” JD sat back and studied her, his eyes burning into hers. His entire disposition had changed in a heartbeat. Gone was the smooth, cool Southerner. Now she was looking at a tough sell, but she’d already learned he was very susceptible to the Anne Hurley type, and she was all in.
She leaned on the table toward him, knowing her breasts were in full view. His gaze immediately dropped, and a rush of heat swept over her. She lingered in the moment, enjoying it, then sat back in her chair. “Like I said, I’m not interested in Salvatore Giambi.”
“So what exactly is this about? You want me to leave Giambi for another team? Is that where we’re headed here?” His voice was sharp, taught, defensive.
“Right now, he doesn’t have a team. And he may not get one. What I’m interested in is you. With or without Giambi.” She had his attention now. “It’s the talent I’m looking at. I want to invest in Giambi not because I want to be a silent partner in his racing team. I know his financial woes. I know his precarious situation here in Monaco. Giambi might not last very long.”
“What do you mean? You know something we don’t know?” He moved in closer, sliding his chair up to the small round table.
“Yes. But right now you need to understand where I’m coming from. I have the money that it takes in this game. I have the desire and I’m going to be involved in buying, building and running a winning Formula One team. That’s going to happen, period. It’s not a question. And I want the best drivers in the world on my team. I think you’re one of the very best talents there is. But you need the right people on your team and the right equipment.”
“And Giambi’s not the right guy?”
“That depends on his future. If he’s got a financial problem, which he does, compounded with political problems, that changes things where he’s concerned. So I have to know something about you.”
“I’m an open book.”
Another lie. She couldn�
��t seem to get him to drop his act. She’d have to try a different tactic.
“What is your top priority?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is it loyalty to Salvatore Giambi, or is it your desire to get back into Formula One racing?”
“I’m a loyal kind of guy. He’s done a lot for me and I wouldn’t betray him, if that’s what you’re asking.” He did a short fugue with his fingertips on the table. She couldn’t make the tune out, but Beth finally felt as if the door had opened just a crack.
She said, “I’m not talking betrayal. If he couldn’t make it work for you, would you walk to another offer?”
“If he couldn’t make it work, then yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Look, I’m a racer. I’m not anything else. I don’t want anything else. I want to race. I’ll do what I need to do, within limits, of course, to get back into the game.”
His eyes held her gaze. He was finally telling the truth. Gotcha!
“Good. We’re beginning to understand one another.”
For the next forty minutes and two more drinks, JD listened to Anne analyze the world of Formula One and how she intended to conquer it. The woman knew more about racing than he did. She knew every team, every driver and his results for the last ten years. He was amazed and highly impressed.
He found himself laughing with her, enjoying her enthusiasm, and really starting to like this rich widow’s vision of his future.
At the same time, he was growing increasingly wary. As Giambi had said, and as JD well knew, the most dangerous woman is one who is both great-looking and smart. She was working hard to reel him in, but he wasn’t going to be that easy.
When they left, she said, “You don’t mind if I drive a short distance, do you?”
He started to hesitate, but she grabbed the keys right out of his hand. “You aren’t going to deny me a thrill like driving a Bugatti Veyron are you?” She brushed up against him ever so slightly, but he felt the heat charge up his legs.
“Be my guest. Just take it slow. This baby can get away from you in a hurry.”
Stacked Deck Page 5
