“I can’t believe you did that.”
Brooks crumpled the empty bag of flour and smirked. “That’ll teach ‘em.” He slammed the door to the Honda and tossed the bag in the garbage. “We done for the day?”
It was only half past four, and we did everything on Leelee's notes. Two customers had shown up to pick up their cars, and they thankfully hadn’t been dicks to me. Brooks also talked to a guy about wanting to supe up his Mustang, but he wasn’t able to help him as much as he would have liked. He told the guy to come back tomorrow and to ask for Lee.
“Um, that’s everything, but I need to stay open until five.” I wiped my hands on a shop towel and looked up at Brooks. “You can go if you want. I’ll probably just sit around and look at old issues of car magazines.” There really wasn’t much else for me to do.
“What are you doing for dinner?”
I squinted at him. “Eating.” We had gotten along well enough today, but he was still Brooks Cummings. I wasn’t about to let my guard down with him.
“How about you eat with me? You drive, and I’ll pay.”
“Oh,” I laughed. “I see how it is. You just need a ride.”
He shook his head. “No, no. We can get a damn Uber if you want. That might be a better idea so we can both get a drink.”
“We just spent five hours together, Brooks. You really think we need to go out to dinner?” I figured it was best to end our time together on a good note, and not me hating him again.
“We both have to eat, right?”
Ugh. “Fine. Dinner and that’s it. We’re getting an Uber because I really need a drink, and I’m not letting you drive my car.”
He leaned toward me. “I bet that would kill you letting me drive your baby.” A smirk spread across his lips, and a low chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Wouldn’t grind one gear though, doll.”
“I should hope not since driving is kind of your job.” I wasn’t going to let him get the upper hand. We may be going out to dinner together, but he wasn’t getting any more than that from me.
“Always gotta deflate my ego a little bit, dontcha?”
“Keeps you on your toes.
“You are good at that, Frankie.” He leaned back and sighed. “I’m gonna take what I can get from you and go shower before you change your mind about dinner tonight. You sure you’ll be okay down here by yourself?”
I rolled my eyes and put him halfway back into the category with all the other assholes of the world. “Little ol’ me will survive without you for half an hour.”
“Not how I meant it, doll.”
“Not many other ways you could have meant it.” Lord, my inner bitch was coming back. Chill, Frankie.
He held his hands up and took a step back. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me.” He snapped his mouth shut and took another step. “Not that you will. Need me, that is.” He ducked through the door to the shop, and I sighed with relief that he was gone.
My emotions and thoughts were all over the place when it came to Brooks. All afternoon we worked well together, and then suddenly, it was like he flipped a switch in me, and all the people who had discredited me and made me feel like shit came to mind, and I felt the need to take it all out on him.
Brooks was my punching bag I took all of my anger out on. I was finally standing up for myself like I always should have, but it was to the wrong person.
He didn’t need to defend me to those two girls today. He could have laughed off what they said and probably gotten a date with the both of them. I was shocked when he told them to leave, let alone told them they weren’t pretty. I never had someone stand up for me before.
I had Luke, Mitch, and Kurt growing up, but this was different. Brooks wasn’t bound to defend me because we were related. He did it because he wanted to. At least, that’s what I’d like to think. He might have also done it because he was trying to get me to come back to work for him.
And there came the doubts.
Was everything he was saying and doing only because he wanted me to come back to work? Or did he actually mean what he was saying?
How in the hell was I supposed to figure out the answer to any of these questions?
I didn’t know anything anymore, and it was seriously messing with my mind.
Brooks Cummings needed to leave before I stopped hating him, or even worse, started liking him.
*
Brooks
“Terry McDougal is not going to win the AC Cola Series.” Frankie pointed a breadstick in my face. “He’s an ass, and he's not going to win.”
“Him being an ass had nothing to do with him winning all of the damn time.”
She smashed half of the breadstick into her mouth and tossed the other half on her plate. “It should matter. If you wanna talk about guys who didn’t pay their dues and are sliding by on daddy's money, then he is your guy.”
“People say the same thing about me, doll.”
She waved her hand and shook her head. “Not the same. You may have the Cummings last name, but you worked your way up. You raced in the bottom brackets, did dirt track for a bit. You didn’t just walk onto the track and act like you owned it. Terry acts like he’s God’s gift to every race fan.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t even know how the douche canoe has fans. Every person I see on race days that have his face plastered over their chest, I want to stop and ask them just what they like about him.”
“He wins.” Everyone liked the winner. Of course, there were always going to be people like Frankie who saw past the surface, but the majority of people went for the winner because who didn’t want to win?
“And you will too.” Her words were so confidant.
“At least, that’s one of us thinking that way.”
She rolled her eyes and grabbed the half of breadstick she threw. “You’ve already won one race this season. Who’s to say you can’t win more and win the cup?”
“Without a car chief, I don’t have a chance.”
She took another bite of her breadstick and chewed thoughtfully. “You do know there are tens of other car chiefs out there, right? I’m really not that great.”
That was a complete understatement. Frankie had my car so dialed in, it was almost as if the thing could drive itself in a straight line down the lane. “There are.” I stretched my arm along the back of the booth and shrugged. “I just don’t want any of them.”
She rolled her eyes. “Can we not talk about this right now? I’d like to enjoy the last of my breadstick without hating you.”
“So you don’t hate me right now?”
She squinted and nodded. “You’re tolerable at the moment. Though, be careful of what you say next. It could change in an instant.”
At least she gave me a warning. “How does one become more than tolerable?”
She laughed and shook her head. “Knowing my name is a good place to start.”
I was never going to live that down. “How can I make it up to you?” I was willing to do whatever it took to get Frankie to forgive me.
She grabbed the shaker of red pepper flakes. “Eat a handful, and maybe I’ll think about forgiving you.”
My stomach rolled, and I pushed her hand away. “No way.” I didn’t feel like breathing fire for the next couple of hours.
She held the shaker close to her face and shrugged. “Then I guess I’ll never forgive you. It is kind of fun being a bitch to you.”
“There has so be something else I can do for you to get over me not knowing your name for a couple of days.”
“Couple of days?” she screeched. “You didn’t know my name until I tossed a wrench at your head and Roc hollered my name.”
That was accurate. “And I told you why I didn’t know your name. Hell, more than half of those guys, I don’t know their names.”
“You knew Remy and Jay’s names,” she insisted.
“Because Remy was in my damn trailer, and Jay makes sure everyone knows his name.”
She laughed and set do
wn the pepper shaker. “So since I didn’t break into your trailer or shove my name down your throat, you won’t know my name until I try to kill you?”
“No, Frankie. I’m just saying I’m sorry, and trust me when I say I’ve learned a very valuable lesson in all of this.”
She scoffed and pushed the pepper shaker toward me. “I really can’t hear what you’re saying.”
For fuck’s sake. She wasn’t going to forgive me until I downed a handful of pepper flakes. I grabbed the shaker and dumped a pile of flakes into my hand. “I do this and you can never bring up the fact I didn’t know your name and you have to forgive me.”
She looked at my hand and tilted her head to the side. “Three more shakes and you have a deal.”
“You’re kidding me,” I scoffed.
She lifted her head and smiled. “I grew up the younger sister to three brothers. You really think this is my first rodeo of making someone do something to earn my forgiveness?”
I shook the shaker three more times. “Is that better, doll?”
“That’ll do.” She sat back in the booth and folded her arms across her chest. “But you need to chew five times.”
“What? You said I just needed to do three more shakes.” I had planned to swallow this shit whole and hope to God it didn’t touch my tongue.
She held up her hand and wiggled her fingers. “Five chews, then you can swallow. That’s the only way I’ll forgive you.”
Frankie played dirty, and I had her brothers to thank for that. I’m sure growing up, she had to deal with a ton of shit from them. I was now on the receiving end. “I do this, you stop hating me.”
She held out her hand, and I reached out with the hand without a pile of pepper in it. “Deal. No more hating.” We shook hands, and I sat back in the booth.
I looked down at the pile of pepper. I was going to have maybe ten minutes of pain, but that would mean I wouldn’t have to deal with Frankie acting like she wanted to murder me all of the time.
3...2...1… I shoved the pile of pepper into my mouth and held it on my tongue. The burn was minimal, but I knew as soon as I chewed, life was going to be hell.
“Chew,” Frankie ordered.
“Now I hate you,” I mumbled. Oh, how the tables had turned.
She held her hands together, kept the heels of her palms connected, and moved her fingers apart like a chomping mouth. “C. H. E. W,” she spelled out.
I held my breath, closed my eyes, and chewed five times quickly. I swallowed down the fiery hell and felt my throat burn. My eyes snapped open, and I grabbed my half-empty beer. I chugged it down in three swallows, then grabbed for Frankie’s.
She snatched it away from my hand and held it to her chest. “Hell no, Hulk. This is my beer. Get your own.”
I glowered at her but was luckily able to flag down a waitress who was two tables away. “Six beers,” I called hoarsely. My throat was on fire, and I was losing all feeling of my tongue.
Frankie sputtered from trying to hold her laughter in and lost it after her head hit the counter. “Oh. My. God,” she wheezed. She pounded her fist on the table and gasped for air.
“I hope you’re happy,” I grumbled. I was going to be shitting fire for a week just to make Frankie happy.
The waitress brought over six beers, and by the time I downed the first one, Frankie had lifted her head off the table and had a shit-eating grin on her face. “I can’t believe you actually swallowed.”
“I’ll add that to the things I never thought I would hear come out of your mouth, Frankie.” She peeled off into another round of laughter, and I shook my head. At least one of us was having a good time.
“Are you going to need a box for the leftovers?”
The waitress was back, and from the look on her face, she must have been standing there for a bit before I saw her. Watching Frankie laugh was a sight to be seen. Her laugh was unabandoned and carefree. “Uh, yeah.” Frankie could take it back to Luke’s where I’m sure it would get eaten.
Frankie sobered up and pointed at the waitress walking away. “Did you not just realize she was hitting on you?”
“She asked me if I wanted a box, Frankie.” I looked at the four beers she had drank and wondered if she was a lightweight.
She rolled her eyes and grabbed the last breadstick. “You’re so used to it, you don’t even see it anymore.”
What the hell was she getting at? “You lost me, doll.” I had a stomach full off pizza and beer topped off with a handful of pepper flakes and she was talking about the waitress hitting on me. “I’d much rather talk about you not hating me anymore and getting a plane ticket for you.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Plane ticket?”
“Yeah, a plane ticket to get you to Allenton before qualifying tomorrow.” It was too late to have Harlyn book something so I was going to have to do it.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Just hold the phone here, Hulk. I never said I was coming back to work for you.”
I rested my elbows on the table and leaned toward her. “Uh, yeah you did.”
She mimicked me and leaned toward me. “You might need to refresh my memory. Just when did I say that?”
“I just ate a palm full of red pepper flakes, Frankie. Your ass is coming back to the crew.”
She laughed and shook her head. “Oh, Brooks, Brooks, Brooks. You are so wrong that I don’t think you will ever be right again in your life. I said I wouldn’t hate you anymore, I never said I would come back to work for you.”
“It’s one in the same, Frankie. If you don’t hate me anymore, then there isn’t a reason why you can’t come back to Cummings Racing.”
“It isn’t one and the same, Brooks. I don’t hate you, but I’m not going to come back to work.”
I hung my head, and groaned. “You’re killing me here, Frankie.”
Her laughter reached my ears, and I glanced up to see her scooting out of the booth. “I gotta pee. Try not to take that as me agreeing to come to Allenton with you.” Frankie once again burst out laughing and stumbled in the direction of the bathroom.
The waitress appeared at the table with a box in her hand. “Um, here’s the box you asked for.”
I reached out for it, but she kept it in her hand. “I’ll take it.”
She shook her head and brushed my hand away. “I’m supposed to do it for you.” She reached for the square spatula and loaded the pizza into the box. “Um, are you some race car driver?” she asked. She slid the last piece of pizza in the box and grabbed the empty tray from the table.
“Just on the weekends.” My lame answer I always gave when someone asked me that slipped from my lips without even thinking about it.
She laughed lightly and shifted from side to side. “So, what are you doing here?”
“Just visiting.”
She looked at the spot Frankie had been sitting in. “Your girlfriend?”
I cleared my throat and looked in the direction Frankie had disappeared, wishing she would magically appear. I was used to women being like this when they figured out who I was, but I honestly wasn’t interested. “Um, yeah. She just had to run to the bathroom.”
Her face fell, and she shuffled away from the table.
“Thank God,” I mumbled under my breath. I pulled two twenties out of my pocket, and tossed them on the table.
“Ready to go?” Frankie slid up to the table and looked down at me. “Just back to Luke’s, not to Allenton or anything like that.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’ve got a bit of a smartass in you, Frank?” I grabbed the box loaded with the leftover pizza and slid out of the booth.
“That’s what having three brothers will do to you, and it’s better than being a dumbass.” She elbowed me and grinned. “Get it? Smartass. Dumbass.” She laughed at her own lame joke and wove through the tables of the restaurant and out the front door.
“You didn’t seem to be the lightweight type, Frankie. Kind of surprised that four beers get you tipsy.”
“Pshaw. I’m hardly drunk. Just tipsy.” She pulled her phone out and swiped on the screen a couple of times then tucked it back in her pocket. “The Uber will be here in five minutes. I told him to look for the pretty girl and the douche canoe. There looked like there could be a language barrier though, so he might be thinking there’s a girl with a canoe needing to be picked up.” She burst out laughing at her own joke and held onto my shoulder so she didn’t fall over.
“Doll, you’re crazy.”
She sighed and looked up at me. “Hardly. If you want to meet crazy, then you need to hang out with Remy’s mom. Now that is one chick who is crazy.” She held up her finger. “But I love her though. She’s super cool.”
Note to self, four beers was three too many for Frankie. “That’s good to know.”
“Four minutes until the Uber is here. Come on, Mr. Canoe. We better wait on the corner. He’s looking for a pretty girl and her canoe.”
She grabbed my arm and led me to the corner. “You really told him to look for a douche canoe?” I asked.
She nodded and leaned against the streetlight. “Yep.”
“I thought since I ate the pepper flakes, you were going to stop hating me.”
She nodded again. “I am a woman of my word, Brooks. I don’t hate you anymore.”
“Then why did you just call me a douche canoe?”
She smiled goofily. “Because you can still be a douche canoe and me not hate you. My brothers are douche canoes, too. Totally love them still,” she said matter-of-factly.
“So that makes me like your brother?” The instant the words came out of my mouth, I hated the taste of them.
She wrinkled her nose. “Negative, Goose. You are not my brother.”
Well, I guess that was good. “So what does it make me then?”
“Brooks fucking Cummings.” A peal of laughter rang from her lips. “You should really put that on your car. It’s much more badass than just Brooks Cummings.”
I shook my head and smiled. “Pretty sure they would have to blur that shit out when they show my car on TV, doll.”
She nodded. “You’re probably right.”
A car pulled up to the curb and rolled down it’s window. “Pretty girl with a canoe? Have you seen someone like that?”
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