Stacked Deck

by Tracy Watkins

  They got in and he turned in his seat, pointing out the details of the car. A lot of females he knew, and a lot of males for that matter, couldn’t drive stick, let alone handle a real beast like this one. He didn’t want her launching it into a wall before they even got out of the parking lot.

  Next thing he knew he was the one launched. He flew backward into his seat as if he’d been body slammed. And suddenly they were leaving town like they were escaping the front wave of a tsunami.

  “Shit! Slow down,” he yelled. “This thing has over a thousand horsepower. More than a Formula One race car. It’s a lot to handle. You’re gonna get us killed.”

  “Not if I can help it,” she yelled back, laughing.

  And she continued laughing as they jumped from zero to a hundred so fast it was like they’d been shot from a cannon.

  And then, the full monster sixteen cylinders kicked in and she nearly lost it. She fishtailed coming around a turn, he grabbed the wheel and helped her get it straightened out, but she pushed his hand away.

  She said, “Whoa, that’s some beast under the hood. Damn, this feels good.”

  He was thinking, I’m in some kind of trouble here with this lady and I’ve got no clue what it is. Or, for that matter, who the hell she is, really.

  JD had a feeling this was going to be a night to remember…if he lived through it.

  Chapter 8

  B eth was a bit shocked at the power of the car and at having nearly lost control. She slowed as they came over a rise. She’d driven fast cars before, including laps in a 600 horsepower NASCAR when a boyfriend bought her the Richard Petty Driving Experience for her birthday. But this was on the open road.

  “I forgot…about the drinks. Hell of a thing when you’re having fun behind the wheel. I love this car and I’d hate to wreck it, not to mention the damage I could have done to us.”

  “Giambi would hate it a lot more. This car is his pride and joy. I’m expendable.”

  She gave him a look. “You didn’t think I could save it, did you?”

  “Three or four drinks, I wasn’t too sure.”

  “Me, either. Scared the hell out of me. It’s like riding a mad bull.”

  They cruised through the countryside for a couple miles, chatting lightly, enjoying the night and each other’s company. JD proved to be an easy guy to talk to, and he had a good sense of humor, jokes coming easily, banter smooth as silk in the summer wind.

  He pointed as they approached an intersection of country roads, and said, “Take a right at the next one. The shop is out another couple miles.”

  She had a nice piece of straight road that fell into a valley and back up, like those that came out of the mountains into Vegas. She couldn’t resist giving the car a little punch.

  The balmy night, the French countryside, a superfast car, a few drinks and a great-looking guy by her side. Could a girl want anything more? She glanced over at JD.

  Absolutely not.

  “I have to tell you the French cops don’t like this car or me much,” he said. “I have a basketful of citations.”

  She slowed. “Instead of buying a driver, I’m beginning to wonder if I should have become one myself.”

  “Hey, everybody’s looking for female drivers. NASCAR, Formula One, Indy.”

  “I think you have to start at about five to really be competitive, don’t you?”

  “In the womb would be better,” he teased.

  She laughed.

  The race shop was about a mile from a small village not far from Nice. When Beth pulled in around two in the morning and parked behind the metal corrugated building, the place looked deserted.

  She thought of that old saying that the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Maybe some men, but not JD. The quickest way to his heart was in a fast car, and they just happened to be sitting in one at that very moment.

  It wouldn’t be the first time she outsmarted some guy’s heart, but she was very good at making sure she didn’t scar the poor guy for life, or herself for that matter. She had a funny feeling that if there was a problem in this situation it wouldn’t be with JD, it would be with her. Playing a guy was one thing. Getting involved on any other level was a big no-no. Taking her eyes off the road, or in this case the target, could get her in a lot of trouble.

  But if she had to get a little randy with this guy to move him into her corner, well, so be it. She’d use the weapons at her disposal and think about the collateral damage later.

  They sat in the car for a while, talking, joking. It felt a lot like a successful first date.

  “To tell you the truth, you scared the hell out of me back there when you blew out of town,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice.

  “I scared the hell out of myself,” she agreed. “You just touch the pedal and this thing takes off like you opened the barn door.”

  “You sure can drive, though,” he said with a note of a admiration.

  “Thanks. That’s quite a compliment.”

  “It’s the truth.” And Beth could see that it was.

  He was tapping his fingers again. Thinking. Considering. She was sure he was a little insecure about making the next move. He was, beneath all his cool Southern charm, a shy kind of guy. He almost made her feel a little guilty for setting him up so blatantly. But she was in a hurry. She had a mission to complete and if Giambi had the information about her father’s killer she wanted to get it as fast as she could.

  So, being the aggressive girl she was, and with the alcohol still on cruise control, she slipped a hand behind JD’s neck under his curly hair. “Thank you, JD.” Then she moved her hand, embedding her fingers into his curls, and kissed him softly on the mouth. Being a little drunk aided and abetted the whole seduction process. Not that kissing him was anything but pure pleasure.

  “Let’s go inside and see what you’ve got.” She said it sexy and hot…maybe with a little too much purpose. She had to be careful. She didn’t want him to catch on.

  She had decided long ago that it was so much easier making a move on a guy when she was playing a role. Were she herself, Bethany James, she knew she wouldn’t do this. But she was a hot, globe-trotting, race-groupie widow worth millions. This kind of chick took what she wanted, so Anne wasn’t doing anything that wasn’t expected. Right?

  JD kissed her again, this time hard, pulling her in tight, but she restrained him, not wanting to get into anything heavy just yet. At least not in the parking lot, in a very uncomfortable, but beautiful car.

  Beth slipped away from the Tennessee dude and stepped out of the car.

  She felt he was being rapidly drawn into her scenario. She’d paid his ego major compliments and now she felt he was ready to get totally honest with her. But she was just a little bit cautious. Behind that racing-stud, super-jock demeanor was no hick. He might like to play that role, but he hadn’t hooked up with Giambi out of blind faith. He knew exactly what he wanted, and how to get it.

  A driver who washed out early because of his temper and some unfortunate circumstances, who can’t find a ride with the usual run of teams and sponsors, had to play it smart if he ever wanted to get back in.

  JD might be able to hide his true character from most people, but she was an expert at seeing the real person behind the persona. JD was pure focused intelligence.

  “Look,” she said, clasping his arm with hers as they walked toward the back door. “I’m not out for you to dump Giambi. I’m willing to work with him if his troubles aren’t too much to handle. But I need to know—what, exactly, was your mission tonight?”

  “He wanted me to make sure you are who you say your are. That’s only natural. Both of you wanting to check each other out.”

  “Seems fair.”

  “He’s paranoid these days. Under a lot of pressure.”

  “I understand. I can take that pressure off of him. And I can give you some information. Your boss isn’t being paranoid for no reason.”

  “I know there’s something
else going on with him, but he keeps that kind of thing to himself.”

  “How far did he want you to go with me? Did he want you to seduce me? Get me into bed?”

  “Just a minute ago, I’d say that was your plan, not mine.”

  Beth knew he had her. “Okay, I admit it. Seduction might have been part of my plan to get to know you better.” She laughed. “As jobs go, maybe that wouldn’t have been so terrible for either one of us.”

  “Seducing women for Giambi or anybody else isn’t my thing, Anne.”

  “In your case it might be inadvertent. Some men can’t do it if they try, others can’t avoid it.”

  “I told him I wasn’t much for that kind of thing. If he wants a seducing detective, he should have hired one.”

  She didn’t know if she believed him. He was sweet, but that was probably part of his appeal. No better mask to hide behind.

  “Magnum, P.I.,” she said.

  He turned to her. “That’s right. Where’s Tom Selleck when you need him?”

  “Probably taking care of his grandkids.”

  They laughed and chatted about the show, both agreeing they had watched it because of the Ferrari.

  They were connecting now, and she had his full attention. She could tell she had him wondering what her deal was going to look like. He was looking right into her eyes and that was where she wanted him.

  Beth said, “I’m sure you know that I’ve taken a good hard look at Giambi’s assets, and his past business dealings. I wouldn’t normally get anywhere near him. I could buy and sell about half the teams in Formula One. If Prince Philip kicks him out of Monaco, it could make it very difficult for him, especially in Formula One.”

  “Is that going to happen?”

  “It might. And that will only make the hole you’ve been in that much deeper. On the other hand, if we can get him to clean up his act in a hurry, or to sell his casino and move into racing as a full-time enterprise, I think I can smooth the transition and protect him at the same time. And, of course, you. But I also know that Giambi thinks of you almost as a son. That gives you influence. That’s why you and I have to trust each other and work together. In the end, one way or another, I want to see you with a ride and I want to be involved. That’s the bottom line.”

  Her persuasion wasn’t in the words. It was in her demeanor, her look, the intensity of her projected honesty. Poker was all about the art of hiding the lie behind the lie. Words meant nothing. It was all in the eyes, and the ability to lie with the eyes was a talent few possessed. It was the reason Beth hated to play poker with people who wore sunglasses.

  Deception was her trade. Her livelihood. Her father said only a truly good lawyer or a pathological liar was the equal of a winning poker player.

  JD had stopped talking. She could tell he was thinking hard about something. She wished he would tell her what was on his mind.

  She began to ramble about Monaco, comparing it with other hot spots. Entertaining him so he focused on her rather than whatever else he’d been thinking about.

  He opened the back door to the race shop with a key and ushered her inside as he hit the switch for the florescent lights that washed the blackness with intense white. A vast space opened up before her.

  He took her on a tour of the high-tech facility that he explained was in the process of being fine-tuned, talking about a sheet-metal fab, computer programs that would help design the chassis and a welding shop.

  Then he walked her over to the main attraction. Three open-wheel racing cars in various stages of deconstruction.

  Beth said, as she ran her fingers across one of the cars, “Is there any machine as sleek and beautiful as an open-wheel race car?”

  “I don’t think so,” JD answered.

  They walked around the cars in silence. Beth was having fun on her private tour. She loved peeking under hoods, and imagining herself behind the wheel. Part of it was, of course, an act, but part of it was real. And that part was growing stronger all the time.

  She followed him around as he explained the machine tools, the art of car rebuilding. He had a strategy already worked out for how he wanted to approach the next season. He’d been watching drivers from McLaren, Williams and Ferrari, the big three who had won all but two world championships since 1984, and Michael Schumacher, who took two titles with Benetton.

  “The costs now are astronomic,” he said. “Some independent teams just can’t hack it anymore. They can’t stay competitive. Prost and Arrows had to withdraw a few years back because of costs. That’s what we want to avoid. That’s why Giambi wants to bring in some major partners. The sponsors won’t come around until we get a big showing. But to get to that point costs a ton of money.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m here.” She smiled.

  He looked over at her and nodded, deadpan.

  When she’d seen enough and they were getting ready to leave, she decided to get the evening going again.

  He turned out the lights and opened the door to go out.

  She put a hand on his arm and said, “I might be getting into a long-term relationship with Giambi racing. That means you and I will be seeing a lot of one another. Just don’t forget that I want to help him in order to help you.” She felt herself beginning to lose the distinction between Anne and Beth.

  He was standing very close to her now in the doorway. She could all but feel the hard lines of his body. Her legs had a little tingle in them.

  “Yeah, that’s what you say and I sure want to believe it. But you’re getting in bed with Giambi, so to speak, in spite of how risky he is.”

  “So to speak,” she said thinking, if there’s somebody I’m going to bed with, it won’t be a seventy-eight-year-old man.

  She was standing close to JD now. Too close. His breath soft on her face. For all their talk about seduction and business, none of that seemed to matter at the moment. He moved in even closer, his body barely touching hers. Her heartbeat shook her entire body. She looked up at him, her mouth slightly open, inviting him to take a shot.

  He did.

  It was a kiss that started slow, but grew in boldness, in hunger, and she was now back up against the wall, his hands moving around her body, hers on his butt, the side of his legs, his chest, stomach.

  She pushed him away. “I thought we agreed, this is business and you brought me here strictly to see your equipment,” she whispered.

  “We did, but I like your equipment better.”

  When he had her dress pulled down and was going after her breasts like a dehydrated desert wanderer falling into a pool of fresh water she knew she had to make him back off.

  But then, she changed her mind and let him play a little longer. It was too pleasant to interrupt. This Tennessee boy knew his way around a woman and now she was wondering who was seducing whom.

  He kept murmuring about her beauty and all that nice, sweet, hot stuff a girl liked to hear. She began to get seriously warmed up and knew this could get completely out of control. Even though she’d known it might come to this, she still wasn’t convinced it was a good idea.

  Still, she let him linger a while longer, running her hands through his silky hair as he kissed, licked, fondled and nibbled. Nothing like the hands of a man who knows what he’s about, she thought in an erotic fog.

  Then, about the time she knew he was getting the best of her, dragging her down a little too deep for her own good, she began to gently, but firmly, insist on getting this thing under control.

  “Too fast,” she said.

  “You like speed.”

  “Not in all things.”

  This was good because now she was testing not only herself—she really wanted to let this go wherever it might take them—but him. She wanted to see how he handled getting black flagged before the finish line.

  He was cool and gently backed off.

  That could mean that he was a controllable guy. Or, he had all the women he could want at his beck and call and if he lost one here or there,
what did it matter when a replacement was around the next corner. Or, maybe he was just a decent guy.

  But now she didn’t know where this thing they’d started was going. It had been a long time since her last lover. Maybe too long.

  This is business, she reminded herself. Potentially deadly business if they ever found out who she really was, but seducing him, her modus operandi, was undermined by her growing attachment. It was a conflict she needed to resolve.

  She regained her composure, and refitted her dress.

  “I’m here to get you a ride,” she said. “We can’t do this.”

  They kissed again. Long and luxuriously.

  “Whatever you say,” he said when he pulled back, still holding her in his arms. But they remained where they were.

  “We need to go,” she said.

  “Okay.”

  But they continued to kiss.

  “We really should go,” he said.

  “Whatever you say.”

  But he kissed her again.

  “I mean, like maybe now,” she suggested.

  “Fine. Right now.”

  And once again they kissed.

  Somebody had to break this off first, she thought, but she felt so very comfortable against his body, kissing him, touching him. He was simply too good to give up. Reason had blown out the window with that first kiss, and now she was acting on raw emotion and loving every moment of it.

  Suddenly, there was a noise outside.

  In that instant, all romance vanished as shockingly as if a bucket of ice water had been poured on her.

  JD tucked his shirt back in his pants and opened the back door. Beth followed close behind.

  The silhouette of a man ducking behind some large shipping containers, back-dropped against the faint moon, caught her eye. For a moment she wasn’t sure what she’d seen.

  “Expecting company?” she whispered.

  “Nobody comes out here this late.”

  The sound of the crunch of gravel drew closer.

  A car with its headlights out stopped up on the hill a few yards away. They watched it. Nothing happened for a moment. Then two men got out, also silhouetted in the pale moonlight.