Heart Racer: A Billionaire Love Story

by Starla Harris

  I shook my head bitterly. “I can’t believe you,” I said quietly, seething.

  “Uh, what?” Jake stepped closer, his features marred with obvious confusion. “Babe, what did I do?”

  “I said,” I said loudly through gritted teeth. “That I can’t believe what a pig you are!” The words exploded from my mouth and I knew I should shut up and run, but I couldn’t stop. It was like releasing the floodgates. “I can’t believe you’d do this in front of me!” I screamed at him.

  Everyone got quiet. The other guys stopped cheering and Angela turned red. Her eyes opened wide and she turned on her heel and scampered away. Oh, great, I thought bitterly. Now I’m the crazy girlfriend.

  “Liv, maybe we shouldn’t talk about this here—”

  “Shut up!” I yelled. Tears sprang to my eyes. “You don’t appreciate me,” I snarled through gritted teeth. “You just want me as some stupid piece of arm-candy, like those dumb bimbos at the party last night!”

  “Hey, can you keep it down?” Jake said sharply. “You might wanna watch your tongue, Liv.”

  “I don’t fucking care who hears me,” I yelled. “I don’t fucking care. I’m fucking done, Jake!”

  With that, I turned on my heel and stalked out of the pit.

  Chapter Eight

  Jacob

  I stood there, in complete and utter shock, as the other guys stared at me.

  “Holy shit, Teller,” Skip said with a smirk. “You got one pissed off bitch right there.”

  I forced a weak laugh. “Yeah, I’m going back to the hotel,” I called over my shoulder. “I’ll catch up with y’all later tonight.”

  I knew that the guys would be talking about Liv as soon as I was gone, but I didn’t care. I’d obviously fucked up–big–and I wanted to do whatever it took to make things right, but what the fuck was that all about?

  The whole way back to the hotel, my stomach was twisting with anxiety. I didn’t get why Liv did that–it seemed like ever since we’d gotten to Dallas, she’d had something under her skin that I couldn’t quite figure out. And whenever I asked her to talk, she’d just shrug and say nothing was wrong. It was such a typical woman thing to do, but I was sick of being treated like I didn’t exist.

  My anger grew as the cab pulled up to the hotel. She’s being so ungrateful, childish and bratty, I thought as I paid the driver and moved through the lobby. She’s basically been having a free vacation because of me and yet she has the nerve to tell me that I don’t care about her?

  That accusation about the ‘arm-candy’ really stung. Sure, Liv was gorgeous—that was just one of the reasons why I noticed her in the beginning. But I enjoyed spending time with her too. She was more than just a knock-out: she was smart, funny, and one of the sexiest girls I’d ever been with. Before I’d met Liv, I was pretty shy around women. But she was so confident that I couldn’t help but feel like a stud after every romp in the sack.

  When I got up to the suite, the place was trashed. The duvet and sheets had been ripped off the bed and clothes were scattered everywhere. I heard Liv’s angry footsteps in the bathroom and I narrowed my eyes as she approached.

  “Liv, Honey?” I called. “Come talk to me, babe.”

  Liv stormed out of the bathroom. She’d changed into a pair of distressed jeans and a white shirt. Her brown hair was piled on top of her head in a messy knot.

  “I’m outta here,” Liv said. “I can’t stay here, Jacob. Not now. Not with you and not like this. Not anymore.”

  “What the hell does this even mean?” I asked. The exasperation crept into my voice and I put my hands on my hips. I was completely perplexed. Everything was fine not too long ago. “What the hell is this all about? Everything was fine until we got to Dallas,” I fumed. “I don’t know what happened, but something changed. What’s gotten into you?”

  Liv glared. “If you don’t know what changed,” she said icily. “You haven’t been paying attention.”

  “Jesus Christ,” I muttered, raking a hand through my hair and staring at the ceiling. “Are you on your period or something?”

  “Asshole!” Liv rolled her eyes and stomped off. She was carrying her black cosmetic case, and I watched as she threw it into an open suitcase with more force than necessary.

  “Liv, come on hon,” I said. “I’m sorry, okay? I really am. But you have to talk to me, babe. You can’t just explode and run off because you don’t like how I respond. That isn’t fair to me.”

  Liv turned to me with angry fire in her brown eyes. “You were flirting with that girl,” she growled. “You didn’t even think about me back there! You don’t even care about me, Jacob. You just wanted me as some hot thing on your arm so you look good to the other guys!”

  “That’s not fair,” I said loudly. “You don’t know what I think! You’re not a goddamned mind reader!”

  “Well, with you I kinda have to be,” Liv said hotly. “You never tell me anything about what you’re feeling–it’s always how well you’re doing, and how much you’re winning! You don’t give a damn about anything else other than racing!”

  I glared right back. “That’s not fucking fair,” I retorted. “You’ve never even asked me how I feel!”

  Liv shook her head sadly. “I can’t do this anymore,” she said. She zipped up her suitcase and grabbed her sunglasses and purse from the nightstand. “I’m leaving, Jake.”

  As she pushed past me and walked straight out the door, I knew I should stop her. Everything in me was screaming for her to come back.

  But somehow, I couldn’t make those words come. And then she was gone.

  ***

  I don’t know how much time I wasted sitting in that hotel room, drinking my way through the minibar and surfing every single one of the five hundred channels offered by the hotel. By the time the sun had gone down, a pleasant drunkenness was rolling through my body.

  I let out a loud belch, got up and walked into the bathroom. I looked like hell. My face was covered in a layer of stubble and my hair was sticking up on one side with grease and sweat. I splashed some water on my face in the sink, then threw on a shirt and a pair of jeans. I knew that there was a party in Skip’s room, and I decided I’d go there and finish what I’d started with the tiny bottles from the minibar.

  It was hard to believe that Liv had actually gone. While I’d kind of known that we probably wouldn’t have anything sustainable or long-term, it was difficult to grasp that she’d walked out the door and she wasn’t coming back. I balled my hand into a fist and punched the wall as I waited for Skip to open the door. I need to get her off my mind. And this is just the way to do it.

  By the time I arrived, the party was in full swing. Drivers and girls flitted through the room, laughing and carrying drinks. Coming in second-place in the relay hadn’t been my dream exactly, but it was a sign of the overall strength of the team. I had a feeling that the next time we raced a relay, we’d take first place, for sure.

  “Hey, Teller,” Mikhail slurred. Mikhail was one of my teammates—a tall Ukrainian guy with a square head, who had moved to the United States for college and flunked out, only to discover that he was a whiz behind the wheel of a hot-rod. Besides me, he was probably the best driver on the Laconick team.

  “Hey, man,” I said. Mikhail passed me a beer and I eagerly accepted, chugging the sour suds until my belly felt full and swollen with the delicious, cold liquid.

  “That was some show earlier,” Mikhail said. He raised an eyebrow. “That girl of yours…she has some kind of temper, man.”

  I laughed hollowly. “She’s not my girl,” I said. “Not any longer at least. She left. She decided she’d had enough. She’s going back home, I guess.”

  Mikhail nodded. “Time to find a new sweet honey,” he said with a smirk. He pointed toward a group of hot young girls wearing tight dresses. They were gathered in the corner, giggling and sipping champagne.

  “Maybe,” I said absentmindedly. I didn’t really want to find someone else, at least n
ot so soon. But you know what they say, I thought to myself as I poured beer down my throat. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone new.

  “Man, you’ve come a long way,” Mikhail said. “This is the big time for you.” He bumped his beer can against mine and we both chugged. “You’re really acing it out there, Teller.”

  “I know,” I said. “I’ve had some kind of luck lately.” Thinking of luck only made Liv’s face pop into my mind, and I grabbed another can of beer from a nearby table.

  “You really have,” Mikhail agreed. “It isn’t just that, though.”

  “Oh yeah?” I popped the can open and drank until my stomach felt bloated. “What else?”

  “Well, you’ve changed, man,” Mikhail said. “You really like to party now, yeah? It’s great,” he added, swigging his own beer. “But man, you used to be so quiet. Like, I remember how you always went home and slept instead of partying the night before a race?”

  I nodded, struggling to remember. I’d become so used to the lifestyle of winning all the time that I hadn’t really ever thought about how I’d changed. Hell, I didn’t even think I had changed…at least, not all that much.

  “Yeah, man,” Mikhail said. He snickered. “You always used to give that pussy line, like, oh, I gotta go home and sleep so I’ll race well in the morning.” Mikhail clapped me on the back. “I’m real glad you gave that up, man.”

  I frowned. “I really don’t think I’ve changed all that much,” I said as I sipped my beer.

  Mikhail grinned. “Trust me,” he said, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “You’ve changed.”

  Chapter Nine

  Olivia

  By the time I made it to the Dallas/Fort Worth airport, I’d almost stopped shaking in anger. But as soon as the cab dropped me off and I walked inside, a whole new wave of sadness slapped me in the face. Being in airports reminded me of Jake. Buying airline tickets reminded me of Jake. Planes reminded me of Jake.

  Everything was starting to remind me of Jake.

  I scanned the Departures boards. There was a flight to Daytona in a little under two hours. I desperately hoped I’d have enough cash to cover it. The idea of going back home, broke and alone, was terrifying…but I didn’t exactly have any other choice.

  I’d been so stupid to think that Jake was looking for anything more than a whirlwind fling. After all, he was getting richer and more famous and cockier by the day.

  And I was just getting more broke.

  I felt miserable as I waited in line and watched all of the happy families around me bursting with energy. There was a couple just ahead of me obviously going on honeymoon–they were practically making out right there in line. I gave them a sour look, then stared down at my feet until it was my turn to purchase a ticket.

  “Hi,” I said to the ticket agent, trying to sound hopeful. “Is that three-thirty flight to Daytona booked?”

  The woman started typing furiously. She was probably in her late forties and had frizzy strawberry-blonde hair that obviously came from a bottle. She also had deep wrinkles on either side of her mouth that made me think she’d probably lived a life. It made me wonder how many times she’d had her heart broken. I watched as her purple manicured nails flew across the keys for what felt like hours. By the time she looked back up at me, I felt as though she could have redefined the great Russian novel.

  “There are a few seats available,” she drawled without looking away from her screen.

  “Oh, good,” I said. I rummaged for my wallet, tapping my debit card on the counter. “How much?”

  “That’ll run about five-fifty,” she said. “Are you paying with credit?”

  I gasped. “Five hundred and fifty dollars?”

  The gate agent nodded. “That’s before taxes and fees,” she said. “You’re probably looking at around seven-fifty or eight hundred.” She glanced down at the keyboard. “You can save about a hundred if you fly into Orlando instead,” she added. “There just aren’t any direct flights to Daytona today.”

  My stomach dropped to the floor. That was way more than I’d expected to pay. I was hoping it would cost just one or two hundred dollars, at the most. How the hell was I going to survive when I got back to Daytona? Months had passed, rent would be due soon, and I had absolutely no idea where to start looking for a job. Furthermore, what the hell would I do when I got to Orlando?

  I couldn’t exactly call Jake and ask him for a ride home.

  “Ma’am?” The agent cocked her head to the side. “Do you want the ticket?”

  I felt absolutely miserable as I pushed my debit card across the counter. “Sure,” I said thinly. “Go ahead and book me.”

  After I got through security with my one little bag of necessities, I wandered around the terminal until it was time to board. Surprisingly, I hadn’t lost my appetite. I was absolutely starved, but all of the airport food was ridiculously overpriced and I knew I couldn’t afford to indulge. Now that I had less than four hundred dollars to my name, I was going to have to be a hell of a lot more selective about where I chose to drop my money.

  The same happy couple from the ticketing line was on my flight to Daytona Beach. I could hardly believe my misfortune as they settled into a pair of seats across from me at the gate. The girl giggled and draped her legs over the man’s lap. She leaned over, licking his ear with the tip of her tongue. He blushed and grabbed her hand, then pulled her close and kissed her deeply.

  I groaned, rolling my eyes as I stood up and stormed off.

  “Christ, what’s her problem?” The guy asked loudly.

  “She’s probably jealous,” the girl said smugly. “What a prude!”

  They burst out laughing together and I began to pray that I wouldn’t be seated anywhere near them on the flight.

  Finally, we were boarded. Thankfully, I was in a row toward the back of the plane that was empty. I closed my eyes as the plane gathered speed and took off, hurling me through the air away from Jake, back home.

  ***

  A little over four hours later, I walked into the bright sunshine of Daytona. It seemed even gaudier and tackier than I’d remembered. The humidity seeped into my pores and I swallowed nervously as I sat down on a bench by the passenger pick-up area.

  It had been so long that I didn’t remember Katie’s number by heart anymore. I had to pull her up from my list of favorite contacts. When I’d left with Jake, it had been April. Now it was the middle of August, and the humidity rose off the pavement in great gasoline-scented clouds.

  Katie didn’t answer. When I got her voicemail, I hung up instead of leaving a message and dialed again.

  “Hello?” she sounded annoyed. Still, I was so grateful to hear her voice that I began to cry.

  “Katie,” I said between sobs. “Can you pick me up? I’m at the airport.”

  There was a pause. “Who is this?”

  I felt like she’d reached into my chest and twisted my heart. “It’s Olivia,” I said quickly. “I’m sorry I haven’t called in so long.”

  There was another pause. “Oh, my God, Liv!” Katie cried out. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t recognize your voice. I got a new phone so I didn’t have your number saved.”

  Somehow, that didn’t make me feel any better.

  “Listen,” I said shakily. “Can you come pick me up and take me home? I’m at the airport.”

  “Of course, sweetie,” Katie said. “Give me about twenty minutes. I’m at the store.”

  I swallowed. A lump had started to form in my throat and I tilted my chin up towards the sun and blinked so I wouldn’t cry.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’m at the American terminal.”

  “I’ll be there soon, Liv,” Katie said. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  After we hung up, I waited under the shade of a bus shelter until I saw the familiar sight of her navy Honda Civic come barreling toward me. Katie screeched to a stop, then leapt out of the driver’s seat and threw her arms around me. The hug felt so good that I
broke out into a fresh round of tears. I started bawling and buried my face in her neck, inhaling her scent a sweaty mix of sun-tan lotion and strawberry shampoo.

  Katie rubbed my back, holding me close. “Oh, babe, it’s okay,” she said. “What the hell happened? Where’s Jacob?”

  I pulled away from her and wiped my eyes, glancing at my mascara-stained hands in dismay.

  “He’s in Dallas,” I said. My throat felt swollen and closed. “I came home, Katie. I had to—it wasn’t working anymore.”

  Katie cranked up the air conditioning in the car and I tilted all of the vents towards my face, hoping to dry my tears. But the more I willed myself to stop crying, the harder it was. Soon I was hunched over my lap, sobbing wildly and covering my face with both hands.

  “Jesus Christ, Liv, what’s going on?” Katie asked, her voice wild with panic. “I don’t hear from you from months, except for tiny little Facebook updates. What the hell happened?”

  I looked up and shook my head sadly. “I don’t know,” I said as Katie pulled up in front of my building. “I…”

  “It’s okay,” Katie said firmly. “You’re back now. Everything’s going to be okay, Liv.”

  I laughed humorlessly. “I very much doubt that.”

  “Well, how bad can it be?” Katie glanced at me with sympathy. “All breakups suck,” she said. “But no matter how much it hurts, we always manage to get better.”

  I nodded. A numb feeling was rapidly spreading through my limbs and I didn’t know what was worse—the urge to keep sobbing, or the urge to sit there like nothing had happened. I felt terrible. I was a terrible girlfriend, a terrible friend, a terrible person who couldn’t even hold down a job.

  I deserved this.

  “Come on,” Katie said. “Let’s get you inside, okay? We can talk there.”

  I nodded. “Thank you, Katie” I whispered hoarsely.

  “For what?” Katie’s eyes crinkled with concern. “God, what kind of a friend would I be if I wasn’t here for you?”

  This time, when the sobs came, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stop crying for a long time.