by Larkin Rose
Soon, Lacy was a constant face in their lives. They brightened when they saw her. Accepted the disposable cameras she offered. Smiled when she brought them the developed photos, bragging about their talent.
“You self-medicate by feeding the homeless? Wouldn’t an Ativan do the trick?”
“Sure, if I wanted to become a prescription junkie.” They rounded the corner of the hotel and Sellars motioned to the valet that she was ready for her car. “I believe alcohol and sleazy sluts is your choice of medicine?”
Sellars shot her a look. “Jealous?”
Lacy grinned. “Only of everyone else around me at this exact moment in time, for they are lucky to not be standing here beside you.”
“You never answered my question.” Sellars stuffed her hands in her pockets. “How much were you worth, Lacy?”
Lacy took in the calm way she’d asked the question. Someone in her life, someone she cared about, had sold out to her grandfather. Who? Why?
She lifted her chin at the same time Sellars’s car pulled out of the garage. “Your grandfather can’t afford me. Neither can you.”
The car came to a stop beside them, and the valet got out, leaving the door open. He dangled the keys.
Lacy quickly plucked them from his grasp. “Oh, look. A shiny proposal. I do believe I accept the offer.” She ducked into the driver’s seat and closed the door.
Sellars stood on the sidewalk, her jaw clenched.
Lacy cranked the car and revved the engine. Holy damn, but she could feel the power beneath her. The energy felt good, and she revved again simply to feel the vibration running through her. Is this what a real race car felt like? Sure, she’d been close to them, but not once had she been inside one. As much as Billy had encouraged her in the past, before she was too terrified to get near a track, but she’d always chosen to watch from afar.
Sellars yanked open the passenger door and dropped into the seat. “One scratch, there will be hell to pay.”
Lacy pushed the shifter into drive. “It’s just money, right?” Without waiting for Sellars’s response, Lacy pulled away from the curb, checked for traffic, and darted out, inhaling the adrenaline.
She missed racing. Being close to the action. Missed being in the pit with the roar of those engines circling her.
But most of all, she missed being a part of Billy’s world. His passion. Racing was his life. He loved it so much. Yet Lacy couldn’t force herself to overcome the anxiety the track forced upon her.
Even for him, she couldn’t do it.
Lacy circled back through the city, secretly wishing she was among the crowd walking along the shops, and made her way onto the freeway where she pushed the pedal a little harder and smiled at how the car obeyed instantly.
“Are we late for a date?” Sellars asked, but Lacy could hear the approval in her voice. “Speaking of, where are we going?”
“I scored you a fitting with a designer. A personal friend of mine.”
“A fitting? Like a clothes designer? I don’t think so.”
“You dodge death for a living.” Lacy glanced at her. “Surely you’re not afraid of the latest fashions.” Sellars’s arched brow was too sexy so Lacy turned back to look at the open road. “Besides, you have an event scheduled for tomorrow night that I am forced to chaperone because your fucking ass doesn’t know how to act your age.”
“Never had any complaints about my maturity.”
Lacy could feel those eyes staring at her and refused to look over. “Fully describes the company you keep. I’m sure they’re just as mature.”
“I’ll pass on my grandfather’s need to show himself off to the whole world by nicknaming it a get-together.”
“You will not pass. This isn’t some game that you get to choose to play or pass, dumbass. You got yourself into this mess and you’ll fucking do what he says.”
“What is your beef with me?”
“The truth, or do you want the ‘hurt your feelings’ version?” Lacy merged around a slow car before she dared make eye contact.
Sellars had beautiful eyes. Sexy, deep green eyes.
“I don’t have feelings,” Sellars said.
Lacy giggled. “Bullshit. You flew out of your grandfather’s office like a fucking scorned toddler. So yes, Miss Terrible Two, you have feelings.”
Sellars inhaled and blew the breath out slowly but didn’t respond.
“Sorry to have misled you in my previous statement. Both versions, truth and otherwise, equate to the same ending of hurt feelings.” Lacy moved back into the slow lane. “I think you are dog shit, who cares about no one but yourself, who won’t have a career at the end of this little babysitting job, and you’ll blame every living creature but yourself because that’s what self-centered, silver spoon fed infants grow up to be. Self-centered, adult version pricks.”
“Wow. I never knew you thought so highly of me.” Sellars moved her attention back to the windshield.
Lacy wished she could feel bad, but she couldn’t. She didn’t like Sellars, didn’t like her personality, or the way she chose to flaunt it, even if she was hot as sin. If it wasn’t for the future of the homeless everywhere, a possible link to endless funding for their well-being, she would have never picked up the white towel in the first place. She could have told Mr. Reynolds where to shove his inconsiderate demeanor. However, she had a good grip on that white towel and was waving it like a fan at a Steelers game. All she had to do was throw it down and the game was all over. She was in control as long as she could keep Sellars in check.
Question was, how the hell was she going to pull that off when Sellars had a path of her own she seemed hell-bent to stay on?
The rest of the drive was spent in silence, and as soon as Lacy killed the engine, Sellars jerked the keys from the ignition and shoved out of the car.
Lacy led the way inside the building and found Aggie—Agnes to those who weren’t on a personal level with her—smiling at her from across the room. And personal, they were.
She’d met Aggie at one of the local nightclubs while visiting Billy. She was surrounded by a group of ogling admirers. At the time, Lacy had no clue who she was. Didn’t care what her status or career was. The only thing she cared about was being trapped in those brown, flirty eyes and needing to take her up on the non-verbal offer.
An hour later, Lacy had landed on her back in the middle of Aggie’s king-size bed, naked, ready.
She’d run into her again the next year. On purpose, of course. But the third year, Aggie had been snatched out of the sea of available bachelorettes by a pretty little blonde who seemed to think the sun rose and set on Aggie’s head. They were cute together, and Lacy had hugged her and wished her well before she went in search of fresh meat.
The sun never rose or set on anyone’s head in Lacy’s world. All she wanted to rise were her hips with someone sitting between them.
And here she was again, in Aggie’s presence, not feeling the least bit of emotion.
“My beautiful, sexy Lacy,” Aggie purred as she made her way across the room. She wrapped her arms around Lacy, hands cupping her ass, completely ignoring Sellars, and she lifted her off the floor in a tight hug. “Oh, how I have missed the scent and the feel and the look of you.”
Lacy hugged her back. “I missed you too, Aggie.” She wiggled out of the fondling embrace and nodded toward Sellars. “Here she is. Kip Sellars in the flesh.”
Sellars frowned at the statement, but mainly she was still frazzled by Aggie’s touchy-feely hug, her hands gripping Lacy’s ass like it had many times before. For sure, they had before.
She wasn’t sure why that bothered her so much.
Aggie turned her attention toward Sellars and began a slow circle around her. “Nice, tight ass. Great build. I have many delicious ideas for you.” She continued the walkabout before coming to a stop in front of her again. “Gives me great pleasure to know you haven’t tasted this little tangy dessert. Yet.”
Aggie cut her gaze back on
Lacy and winked. “Are you free tonight? I haven’t had you in years.”
Sellars cocked a brow and resisted taking Lacy by the hand and leading her out of this woman’s presence. Something about her was rubbing Sellars the wrong way.
“Not tonight, bad girl. I have to babysit this misfit,” Lacy said before she poked a finger into Aggie’s broad chest. “And stop misbehaving. Cheryl would cut your balls off.”
Aggie laughed, and Sellars relaxed at the notion that this woman was taken. Not that it meant very much. But at the least, it would make her think twice about cheating.
Sellars didn’t like cheaters. Sure, she’d screwed cheaters, unknowingly, but didn’t think she could ever be the cheater. It was too easy to break up and walk away if the love was absent. Cheating was a piss ant excuse to use for a breakup.
Aggie suddenly stopped laughing. She stepped into Lacy, grabbed her around the waist with one arm, and tugged Lacy against her chest. “Give me the word, you delectable piece of heaven, and I’ll twist my own balls off with a set of needle-nose pliers and gift wrap them for her.”
“You’re such a bullshitter. Cheryl is your complete other half.” Lacy nodded toward Sellars. “Now go get your ass to work transforming this reckless newbie.”
Aggie loosed her grip on Lacy and turned to Sellars. “Let’s go find you something worthy of being this beautiful creature’s escort.”
An hour later, Lacy could feel Sellars losing her patience. Every new outfit was worse than the first. Not worse, as everything Aggie designed was tasteful and stylish. But it wasn’t perfect for Sellars. Actually, she’d been perfect walking through the door.
Not too many people could pull off the blue jean, T-shirt, and blazer look, but Sellars wore it with perfection. Truthfully, she didn’t need a new wardrobe. She was excellent exactly as she was. However, Mr. Reynolds had stipulated the importance of her attire for the gala, and no matter what Lacy thought, he had the checkbook.
Nearby was a rack of costumes. Lacy went to inspect and found a pair of Elton John sunglasses, a black top hat, and a boa. She donned them, grabbed her camera, and snuck up behind Sellars as Aggie inspected her in the floor length mirror, insisting the ensemble would be perfect for the lavish gala.
Lacy rose over Sellars’s shoulder, made a silly face in the mirror, and snapped the picture just as Sellars narrowed her brow. She rose again at a different angle, gave a shocked expression, and snapped another picture. Once again, she gave a different expression and snapped, until Sellars loosened her tight jawline. Lacy stuck her ass out to one side of Sellars, watching the reflection, then pursed her lips and once again, snapped the photo. She continued making silly poses until Sellars cracked a smile and joined in the fun by altering her own poses.
Besides the sarcastic smirks, Lacy was positive this was the first time she’d seen Sellars smile. A real smile. She was a hard woman. A hardness Lacy had no desire to soften. But she was curious what kind of rift caused the gap between her and her grandfather, especially considering he was the money behind the speed. The only thing keeping Sellars afloat in her otherwise sinking ship.
Something bad, for sure. But again, Lacy had no desire to dig for the root. It was family drama she wanted no part of.
After another wardrobe change and more crazy poses, Lacy saw this adventure was useless. Sellars was being a good sport, but Lacy could tell she was a ticking time bomb.
To hell with her grandfather. If he had a problem with Sellars’s clothing, he would surely get over it.
He had more fish to fry, anyway. Like holding his breath until NASCAR lifted her suspension.
“Aggie, we will have to get back with you on her choices. We have another pressing appointment we need to get to.” Lacy lied and watched the relief crawl across Sellars’s face.
Fact was, she planned on locking herself in the basement to go through the photos she’d taken before she started winging a select few into cyberspace. She could only cross her fingers that she would make a dent in Sellars’s hateful fan base. If that was even possible this late in the race.
“I need to show you a design I think would look spectacular on you for the gala.” Aggie took a step toward Lacy. “Alone.”
Lacy chuckled. “I didn’t come equipped with a ball gown, and I trust you. So I’ll take it.”
“Aren’t you curious to see the design first?” Aggie arched a pleading brow.
“And take away the element of surprise? Absolutely not.”
“Won’t you at least allow me the pleasure of seeing you in it? And then out of it?” Aggie pursed her lips.
Lacy wagged her finger. “Your true colors are oozing out again. And we really do have to run.”
Aggie swung her gaze on Sellars.
Sellars gave her a firm nod, playing along with the lie.
Aggie stepped into Lacy and placed her hands around the curve of Lacy’s hips. “I’ll send a courier to Billy’s with your dress first thing in the morning. But next time, you come alone. I beg you.”
A knot tightened in Sellars’s stomach as Aggie leaned down and pressed her lips against Lacy’s. It was a quick show of affection, but the look in her eyes said there was so much more being offered.
“Behave yourself before I have to tattletale on you.” Lacy winked.
“That’s impossible. I can’t behave around you.” Aggie stepped back and let her gaze slide down Lacy’s body. “You. Me. Alone. Mmmmm.” She licked her lips.
Lacy turned without looking at Sellars and led the way to the door. “Thank you, Aggie. You’re the best.”
Sellars gave Aggie a once-over before she followed Lacy to the car where she stood beside the driver’s door, hand on hip.
“Keys, Louise.” Lacy held her hand out.
Sellars stepped off the curb to join her. She held the keys just out of reach. “I’ll let you drive under one condition.”
“What?”
“Never make me do that again no matter how much that man is paying you. He can’t change me and neither can you.” She dropped the keys into Lacy’s hand, aware Lacy, for once, didn’t have something spiteful waiting on the tip of her tongue.
Several seconds went by, her gaze locked on Lacy’s beautiful chocolate eyes, and then she walked around her and dropped into the passenger seat.
Thirty minutes later, they pulled into the Heinz Field parking lot. Sellars was impressed with the way the man at the gate waved them right in with nothing more than a nod, like this was normal for Lacy and happened often.
Lacy led the way down a few halls, a few turns, and suddenly, she was eye level with the football field. She wasn’t a football fan, so she didn’t share in the hype of the fanatics, but no one could miss the way the city came alive during football season, how everyone seemed to be wearing black and gold like no other colors existed. This was a prideful town, and when it came to sports, everyone seemed to become family.
Lacy kicked off her shoes on the edge of the field, pointing for Sellars to do the same.
“Before you step foot on this sacred ground, leave the bullshit drama with your shoes.” Lacy cocked a daring brow at Sellars then stepped onto the grass with a sigh and walked to the fifty-yard line. She lay on her back, arms to the side, and closed her eyes.
Sellars did the same, inhaling the quiet moment. She didn’t do this enough. Relax. Just breathe.
Many minutes went by before Lacy spoke. “Isn’t it peaceful?”
“Only when you don’t talk,” Sellars mumbled.
“No other place on earth makes me feel more protected.”
Sellars opened her eyes and turned to look at Lacy. She was staring up at the sky.
White, puffy clouds filled the distance, adding a touch of serenity to the moment.
“What do you need protection from?” Sellars asked, avoiding the real question. Do your demons still haunt you, Lacy? You couldn’t outrun them, could you?
Several seconds ticked by before Lacy responded. “Do you own a Terrible Towel?”
“No.” Sellars lied. She had one still in a box somewhere in the spare bedroom of her apartment. The very apartment that had been ready for her to move into for well over a month. All she needed to do was buy all new furniture, minus a bed.
She liked being at Billy’s. He was like the family she’d always wished she had. The family that only existed on her television growing up. He hadn’t pushed her to move out, and she was wasn’t in a hurry to leave.
“How can anyone live in this city and not own a rally towel?” Lacy turned on her side to face Sellars. “You’re a fucking Patriots fan, aren’t you? That would explain a lot.”
Sellars chuckled. “I’m not a fan of football at all.”
“Figures.” Lacy rolled onto her back again, her gaze straight above her. “Bet you didn’t know that tough yellow towel was the first ever of its kind, created by Myron Cope, or that the proceeds from every sale go to a school for people with mental and physical disabilities, or that when he passed away, his casket was draped in a quilt made out of Terrible Towels from a fan, or that hundreds of people lined downtown in the pouring snow to wave those rally towels in his honor.”
“Who is Myron Copes?” Sellars offered a sarcastic grin when Lacy snapped her head to the side to stare at her.
No one living in or near this city could avoid knowing who the sports commentator was or how he was loved by so many. His heart still beat through the town.
Lacy smirked at her mocking grin. “Before I end my vacation, I’ll see that you get a proper tour of the Great Hall.” Lacy looked back to the sky. “It should be a prerequisite for anyone living here.”
“If you love this city so much, why is your zip code nine oh two one oh?”
“Sorry, stud.” Lacy closed her eyes. “This is a drama-free zone. I’m not allowed to bring anything negative to this field.”
