you’ve got it all wrong. I’m not some bimbo groupie chasing after him.”
“Then what do you want with him?”
“That’s between him and me.” Just then she saw the photographer she’d hired approaching and quickly ran to meet him lest he give her away. “The driver isn’t here, and I don’t know whether or not he will be. We may have to postpone this till tomorrow.”
He looked as disappointed as Liz felt. “Can’t do it then. I’ve got three shoots lined up before the first qualifying race. Everybody is wanting photos the first race of the season. There’s a drivers’ meeting pretty soon. Maybe he’ll show for that.”
She had forgotten about the meeting in her annoyance with the smart-mouthed mechanic. “Good idea. I’ll see if I can find him there.”
“Okay. I’ll hang around outside and look for you. Good luck.”
She returned to the car, planning to ask the mechanic to tell Rick Castles if he did return that she was looking for him. “Excuse me?”
From beneath, Rick saw her shoes and groaned. Whatever she wanted, he wasn’t interested. Maybe she was good-looking, but after his marriage had broken up because his wife couldn’t handle racing, he wasn’t looking for girlfriends at race tracks.
Just then someone called, and Liz turned to see several men, all dressed alike in blue pants and red T-shirts, rolling tires along as they came toward her.
Rick had not heard them and did not know anyone else was around as he came sliding out from under the car, face cold with fury. “You’re getting on my nerves, lady.”
He fell silent to see his crew chief, Mack Pressley. “See if you can get rid of her,” he snapped and disappeared under the car. “I’m sure as hell not having any luck.”
“Hi,” Mack held his hand out to Liz. “I’m the crew chief—Mack Pressley. What can I do for you?”
“Well, I—” She was about to introduce herself when she saw the tires they were rolling had no tread left, just like the ones already on the car. “What are you going to do with those?”
Mack exchanged grins with the other crew members, who, like himself, were intrigued by the pretty young woman wearing a media badge. “Well, you can be sure we aren’t going to tie them to a rope and swing from a tree. We just bought them, and we’re going to put them on the car.”
She was stunned. “But they’re no better than the ones already on there.”
Mack blinked, equally bewildered. “They certainly are. The others are almost ready to blow. That’s why Rick hasn’t taken the car out to practice. We had to go get these. We’ve got a new sponsor, and we just got the money from them today to buy the right kind of tires for qualifying.”
Beneath the car, Rick grimaced. If Mack kept talking to her, being nice to her, she’d never leave, damn it. And if she didn’t, she’d find out he’d been putting her on.
Liz continued to stare, not understanding about the tires.
Mack set the tire down and pulled a rag from his hip pocket to wipe his hands. “Like I said, I’m Mack, the crew chief.” He gestured to the others. “Bobby, Weyland and Jake. We’ve got to get these tires on, but if you have any questions, I’ll try to answer them. We’re just so pleased for this sponsorship we’ve got with Big Boy’s Pizza, and it’d be nice if you could work their name into your article.
“Who are you with, by the way?” he asked over his shoulder as he bent down next to the car.
“Well, I’m not a reporter, I’m—”
She was drowned out by the noise of the jack lifting the car, followed by the whine of air wrenches removing the tire’s lug nuts.
“Sorry,” Mack said when it was quiet again. “Go ahead. What paper did you say you’re with?”
“I’m not with a paper. I’m Liz Mallory, the PR representative for Big Boy’s Pizza, and—”
That was all she had time to say before Rick came careening out from under the car, and this time, he did knock her down.
She fell right on top of him, her bottom landing on his stomach.
Reacting in time to grab her and keep her from cracking her head on the concrete, he cried, “The heck you say. Tell me this is a joke.”
“No, you’re the joke,” Liz cried, struggling to get up, but he held her tight, her breasts brushing his cheek as he tried to sit up with her still on top of him. “And you’re out of here, mister. With your attitude you’re not the kind of person my agency wants identified with the Rick Castles racing team. So you can go elsewhere and wheedle your freebie race passes.”
Rick and Liz locked furious eyes while the rest of the crew burst into raucous laughter.
Liz turned to glare. “I’d like to know what’s so funny. You don’t realize how this man behaved…how he talked to me. He even had the nerve to intimate that all the new sponsorship meant was free pizzas. You think I’m going to put up with having someone like that around this team?”
Mack, still laughing, walked over to take her arms and pull her to her feet. “Well, I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.”
The mechanic was greasy, and thanks to falling on him, she was, too. She yanked the rag from Mack’s hands and began swiping at the black streaks on her skirt, but it only made matters worse. Then she suddenly realized what Mack had just said. “What did you mean by that?” she demanded, eyes narrowed.
“I mean,” he said, grinning, “that you’re going to have to put up with him, because this is our driver.
“Liz Mallory,” he said with relish, obviously enjoying the moment, “meet Rick Castles.”
Chapter Two
“Mack, is this one of your stupid pranks?” Mack was the team joker and always clowning around.
Still laughing, Mack said, “I’m afraid not.”
The cords in Rick’s neck stood out, his lips a thin, angry line. “Tell me this is a gag,” he demanded of Liz. “You can’t be the PR rep for Big Boy’s.”
“I most certainly am.” She reached down to retrieve her bag. When she’d been knocked down, everything had spilled out. She had to search for her business cards, finally thrusting one at Rick. “Here. This explains me, but I’m still hoping you are the gag.”
He let that dig pass. “How come you didn’t say who you were to start with?”
“You gave the impression you weren’t a regular member of the crew, so I didn’t figure it was any of your business.”
“Well, regardless of whether you thought I was or not, it would have been polite to introduce yourself.”
“Ha! Look who’s talking about being polite. Is the snotty way you acted with me the way you treat all your fans?”
