Smokin' & Spinnin'

by Miller, Andrea

  Brooke walks over to where I am semi-propped on the couch. “OK, let’s see…I have your medicine schedule, which you are good to go for a few hours. Don’t need any of those. Are you hungry? Do you need something to drink?”

  I eye her suspiciously. I know she is leading up to something because nursing is not her thing. “I am OK for now,” I say softly.

  Brooke raises her eyebrows at me. “Are you sure? Please be sure because you are not moving from this living room until you tell me just what in the hell happened. And I mean everything, Whitney Elaine Parker!”

  And…there it is!

  I laugh out loud. I mean really laugh. It hurts my body, but feels good for my soul. I haven’t laughed in some time. However, Brooke doesn’t get my humor.

  “OK…OK…” I acquiesce. “I am not even sure where to start, actually.”

  Brooke snaps giving me the stink eye, “You better starting figuring it out quick, sister!”

  I can tell that she is not in a mood for my jokes today, but I understand her concern. It was Brooke’s idea for me to move here. Then she basically got me the interview at the temporary employee agency that led to the job at GCR. I understand she feels responsible for me, not to mention the fact that I have been blowing her off since I became involved with Ryan. I knew she would figure me out sooner or later since we are more like sisters than friends.

  I take a deep breath. “OK…you want the annotated version?” I laugh again. This is so not the time to aggravate her, but I can’t help myself. I somewhat feel like me again, if that is possible. I can sense Brooke’s impatience. I don’t know what she knows, what Ryan told her, or if she knows anything at all, but I am going to lay it all out for her. “OK, OK, we both know that Colton was interested in me. I told you that, right?”

  Brooke responds impatiently, “Yes, and it was very evident that night we had drinks.”

  “I talked with Colton to explain to him that I did like him but did not want to get involved for two reasons. Number one, because it was a direct violation of company policy and I did not want to jeopardize my job. Number two, I was not ready to begin another relationship. I gave him a little background information on my previous relationship, and he said he understood.”

  Brooke looks confused. “So, how does this all lead to your accident and these rumors about you being involved with both drivers?”

  I hold up my hand. “I’m getting there. You wanted the complete version, right?”

  She holds up her hands in defeat.

  I continue, “Colton and I maintained what I thought was a friendship. We had very minimal contact, but I made a mistake.”

  “You changed your mind about Colton?”

  I sigh, “No, I just violated company policy with someone else.”

  Brooke’s eyes narrow like she is processing my statement, and then automatically her face lights up like she is about to explode. She mouths the name “Ryan” to me. I shake my head as tears begin to fall at the sheer mention of his name. I look away, embarrassed by my emotions.

  “Shut up!” Brooke exclaims. Then, in a hushed whisper, she enunciates my name like it has ten syllables, “Whiitnee, no!”

  I turn back to meet her shocked gaze and nod my head, unable to speak. Brooke opens her mouth to speak, then closes it again. She is wide-eyed with shock.

  Brooke finally gathers her composure. “When?”

  I take a deep breath. “About a month or so ago, I guess.”

  “A month!” she shrieks. “How could you not tell me?”

  “I am sorry! Really, it all happened so fast, and I was so caught up in him and my job, but I knew…I knew if I talked to you that you would know. And I couldn’t risk it. For the first time in my life, I finally felt like I was in the right place at the right time. I didn’t want to say anything to anybody in fear of who might find out.”

  I continue to explain, “Ryan tried to explain it to me one night about how racing affects you. How it gets in your blood. How the adrenaline rush is addictive. I didn’t understand him at all, but now I get it. And you know me, it’s not like me to act first and worry about the repercussions later. I got so caught up in my job, traveling, and trying to understand this sport that I made a bad decision. But…” I stammer, “it felt so right, you know? I have never felt that intense connection with another person.”

  Brooke sits silently, taking in the overload of information. She looks up at me. “Where is he? Why isn’t he here?”

  Her words open a floodgate of tears that soak my cheeks. Brooke gets up and moves to sit on the end of the couch with me. I hold up my hand, signaling that I need a minute to regain my composure.

  A few minutes pass, and I am able to speak again. “I broke it off with him.” Brooke gasps, “Why?”

  I roll my eyes. “Wouldn’t running me over constitute a good enough reason?”

  Brooke shrugs her shoulders and laughs at me.

  I try again to finish my story. “The day of the race, I noticed that Colton seemed upset with me. He gave me several disapproving looks that made me uneasy. I started to get the feeling that he might suspect that Ryan and I were now involved. I just chalked it up to paranoia. Ryan and I both agreed that no one should know about us until we figured out what ‘us’ was. I just never believed that it would be anything serious since Ryan changes women like he changes his underwear. I was just along for the ride, literally!” I laugh at my own bad joke.

  “But…” Brooke doesn’t get my humor, but begs me to continue.

  “Apparently, Colton knew, somehow.”

  Brooke interrupts me. “Oh my God! So that is why Colton intentionally wrecked Ryan on the track that day.”

  I shake my head to confirm her statement. “Colton was furious that I had chosen Ryan over him.”

  Brooke sits up with new regard. “So that’s where the rumors came from.”

  I raise my hand. “I have no idea who could have ever said anything. Unless it was Colton. Maybe the paparazzi were grasping at straws…I don’t know. It is mortifying. But Jerri has officially silenced them. Thank God!”

  Brooke shakes her head at me. “Well…don’t be so sure. Just wait till you see all the magazines I have that are talking about it.”

  She reclines back on the couch like she has just run a marathon, then immediately sits back up with more questions. “OK…I understand all that now, but why would Ryan hit you with the car?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know. I believe it was really a case of me being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Jerri told me in the hospital that Ryan didn’t see me. So, I guess I was caught in the cross fire.”

  Brooke looks confused again. “What did Ryan say?”

  I look at her and take a long pause. “Nothing, really.” I shrug. “I didn’t give him a chance to explain.”

  “Whitney!” Brooke exclaims again.

  “Listen, Brooke, I screwed up. The majority of this is my fault.”

  “Like hell!” Brooke interjects.

  I sigh, “Yes, it is. I told Colton that I didn’t want to be involved with anyone, especially someone that worked for the team. Then what do I do? I go and get involved. See? All roads lead back to Whitney Parker.” I point to myself for emphasis. “Now, one person is out of a job, and another’s career hangs in the balance.”

  I continue, “I have made up my mind to go back to work and finish the season. I am not, nor have never been, a quitter. I have to be professional, put my feelings aside, and help Ryan get his career, what’s left of it, back on track.”

  Brooke looks at me sympathetically. “How on earth will you be able to work for him?”

  I shake my head and avoid eye contact with her as tears well up again. “I don’t know, but I have to do it for his sake. It is the least I can do to repair the damage that I helped cause.”

  Brooke relents. “I have one more question. Then I will leave you alone—for today, that is. I am so not done with you, Whitney Parker!”

  I laugh, “I
would be afraid if you were!”

  Brooke eyes me cautiously. “My question is this, how on earth can two people go from hating one another to being romantically involved?”

  I throw my head back and laugh so hard pain shoots throughout my body. I grasp my leg to steady myself and stop the pain.

  “What is so funny, Whitney?” Brooke looks pissed.

  “Ryan and I had the same conversation that first night we were…uh…together,” I stammer, embarrassed. “I hated him because he was so arrogant and rude, while he despised me because I was new and had absolutely no knowledge of NASCAR whatsoever. But we worked through all of that.”

  Brooke smiles at me and says sarcastically, “I would say so!”

  We fall together and erupt into a fit of girlish giggles.

  Chapter 33

  Iawake the following morning. Well, I guess it’s morning since I have no window in my room, but I believe I can hear Brooke moving around in the kitchen. The pain in my chest is still present, but not as gripping. I guess the girl therapy worked after all. Between gossiping, reading some good fashion magazines, and blabbing the whole story, spending time with Brooke has helped alleviate some of the pain. I manage to sweep my legs up and off the bed. As they dangle over the side, I can tell that my leg pain has subsided as well. What a difference a week makes! And that thought reminds me that it is Sunday. There is a race today, and it is odd not being at the track.

  I look over to my nightstand. My iPod sits quietly in the dock. Normally, my music device is my safe haven, my comfort in times of distress, but now I don’t trust it. My iPhone, my connection to my job, sits just beside the dock. I reach out for it, but in one swift motion, I take the phone and sweep it into the drawer below. I can’t be tempted by work or anyone I might want to call. I cannot second-guess my decision to send Ryan away.

  I reach for my crutches and pull myself into a standing position. This is going to be tough. I amble into the bathroom. I look at myself for the first time in a week. I look like I’ve been in a war, but then again, I guess I have. My face is gaunt and pale. Dark circles line my eyes, and the stitches on my face are hidden by white 4x4 gauze. Gorgeous! I shake my head at my internal sarcasm. I don’t look at the rest of me. It’s just all too much!

  I hobble on my crutches into the kitchen. Brooke has the small flat-screen television turned to Fox News, where a middle-aged man is discussing today’s race.

  “Ryan Carter will be noticeably absent from the lineup today in Indianapolis. After severely injuring his public relations manager in a bizarre garage accident in Loudon, he has been suspended for six weeks, and his future within NASCAR remains questionable at best. His father, legendary driver, Garrett Carter, will be picking up the slack for his two missing team members.”

  The reporter concludes, and I say, “Wow! World news, eh?”

  I startle Brooke, who snatches up the remote and quickly turns off the news report. “Why didn’t you call me? I would have helped you!”

  I raise one eyebrow at her. “You can’t babysit me forever. Besides, I need to be back to work tomorrow.”

  Brooke snorts into her coffee. “Bullshit!”

  “Yes!” I exclaim. “I am going back to work tomorrow. If I lay up in this apartment one more day, I may be suicidal.”

  Brooke shakes her head at me. “I’m not even going to argue with you. If you can figure out the logistics, be my guest.”

  “Oh, I’ve got them figured out, all right.”

  Brooke eyes me warily, no doubt scared to ask what I have planned since I cannot drive myself to work—or since I am not “supposed” to drive for six weeks.

  I sit down at the table with Brooke, who is browsing through the morning paper and eating a bowl of cereal. “Would you like something to eat?” she asks hesitantly.

  I shake my head. I sit quietly watching her. I can tell by her actions that she is chewing on more than the granola in her cereal bowl. She notices my stare and raises an eyebrow at me.

  “What?” she asks.

  “That is exactly my question to you, Counselor.” I raise my eyebrow back to her.

  She lays her spoon down in her bowl. “There is something that I forgot to mention to you,” she says warily. “Actually, I was not sure if I was going to tell you at all, but I don’t want to keep it from you.”

  Brooke has my undivided attention now.

  She takes a deep breath. “He called.”

  “He…who?” I exclaim. “Ryan?”

  Brooke shakes her head softly. “No, him…the bastard that we don’t speak of!”

  I am shocked. Brooke’s confession makes me want to jump from my seat. I have completely forgotten about him. I guess Ryan’s plan worked after all.

  “What did he say?” I question her.

  She rolls her eyes at me. “Oh, just some bullshit about how he did still care for you and was concerned. I suppose he was curious, too, if the rumors were true about you being involved with Colton and Ryan. Jealous jerk!”

  Brooke is right. He was only curious and wanted to spread that gossip around Georgia. “What did you say to him?” I ask hesitantly, not sure that I want to know.

  “Well, frankly, to sum up, I told him that you did not need neither his care nor concern…but fuck you very much for calling, and I hung up on him!”

  My mouth falls open, shocked. “Brooke!” I hiss at her audacity, then erupt into a fit of laughter.

  “He should have known better than to call you anyway! What a dumb ass!” And Brooke laughs with me.

  After a few moments of therapeutic laughter, Brooke sighs deeply. “I have been going over everything you have told me, and I have one more question.”

  “Just one? I’m disappointed!”

  Brooke shakes her head at me. “Yesterday, you said you had feelings for Ryan. Do you love him?”

  Her question catches me off guard and stops me dead in my tracks. I shoot her my best “are you freaking crazy” look.

  She raises her hands up to me in defense. “I’m just saying, from what you’ve said about your relationship, both personal and professional, not to mention the fact that you met his parents.”

  I laugh in an attempt to throw her off. “I work for one, and the other was just incidental.”

  “Oh, come on, Whitney, you agreed to keep working for him so he wouldn’t get fired.”

  I snap my head back to her. “Yes!” I exclaim. “So he wouldn’t get fired because of me, remember?” I throw my hands up in frustration. “Did you not get that portion of the story?”

  “I know, but Whitney, this is sooo unlike you. I mean, I have literally been up all night trying to figure this whole thing out because this is so out of character for you.”

  She’s right. It’s not me. I do what I am told, I abide by the rules, and I don’t blur the lines of right and wrong. But I guess I shot that all to hell and back.

  I shake my head at her. I lean over the kitchen table and rest my head in my right hand. “I don’t know either. I feel like I am losing my damn mind. For the first time in my life, I finally felt like I belonged somewhere. And that I had found a career that I was passionate about. And those feelings carried over to Ryan. I have never had that intense emotional or physical connection with someone. You know? The electricity or charge between two people that says to hell with everything else. And I couldn’t deny it. So, for once in my life, I was enjoying myself. And I didn’t want to stack up any more regrets in my life. But look where it got me, a broken heart and a broken leg!”

  Brooke looks at me warily like she is finally putting everything together. She smiles sympathetically at me. “I’m just so worried about you because of everything that you have been through prior to this and now this. I feel somewhat responsible for it.”

  I shake my head at her and reach across the table to clasp her hand. “Please don’t! It’s not your fault. I made my own choices, hasty ones at best. I guess it wasn’t enough that I drove out of Georgia smoking and spinning, becaus
e I ran straight into the wall this time.”

  Brooke groans loudly, “Did you seriously just make a NASCAR analogy out of your life!”

  I laugh again. “It’s bad, I know. Sadly, I would do it all over, broken leg and all, just to feel those emotions with Ryan.”

  Brooke raises her eyebrows. “He loves you. You know that, right?”

  Her statement turns my gut. No!

  “As an outsider looking in, I’m just saying, is all.” She shrugs. “Especially when I look back now, watching him with you in the hospital, the fact that he called me…you didn’t see what I saw. I mean, he was really distraught, Whitney. I was so confused by it all. But now that I have put everything together, I can see it all clearly.”

  Her statement makes my stomach roll again. Could it be true? No. Hell no. If he did, he wouldn’t have walked out so easily from the hospital. But you made him leave, Whitney, I chastise myself. The thought of him walking out shakes me to my core again and reopens the floodgates.

  I shakily stand up from the table in a desperate attempt to flee this conversation. I am nauseous from Brooke’s latest inquisition. This is too deep and way too early in the morning.

  “If that were true,” I snap with raw emotion, “where the hell is he? And why am I going through this alone?” I grab my crutches and hobble back to my bedroom as Brooke calls after me.

  “Whitney…!”

  I collapse onto my bed and begin to sob. Do I love him? Yes. Does he love me? All signs point to no. If he did, he wouldn’t have walked away so easy. The anguish in my chest is too much, and no comparison to the pain in my broken leg. Is this what heartbreak feels like? Even with the Georgia bastard, I never experienced a pain of separation like this. With him, it was over in a second, and I moved on just like that. But this is different. I hurt more over Ryan than I did my own former fiancé of six years. Something is clearly wrong with this picture. My thoughts make me cry harder.

  I hear Brooke make her way into my room, but she doesn’t say anything else. She knows she has already said too much. She simply lies down beside me and holds me as I cry, like any best friend would do.