not this one.
He wanted her.
Badly.
And he could never have her.
Therefore, she had to go.
And the way to do that, he decided as he headed for the drivers’ lounge and the showers, was to find a way to make her quit.
He figured it shouldn’t be too hard. After all, she didn’t look like the type who could take the extreme heat at certain tracks during the year, or the dirt and noise for very long.
Besides, it was hard living like gypsies, traveling to a different track almost every week. The NASCAR schedule currently consisted of thirty-four races, and sometimes a few got rained out. That meant running the next clear day, then heading for the next track right away.
One day he hoped to be successful enough to afford his own plane to travel the schedule like the hot dogs—a nickname given to the top drivers. Or at least a fancy motor home that could be used at the track.
If he could win the rookie-of-the-year title, good things were sure to follow. Other big sponsorships would come in, and there would be money for better engines, better parts. He could really be competitive, maybe even one day win the big one—the NASCAR championship. Then he could write his own ticket and never have to worry about money again. After all, there was not only money to be won but endorsements and his share of sales of licensed products bearing the likeness of him and the car.
For the time being, he and Mack were owners but knew—and hoped—success would bring a real team owner, or that they would be taken on by a sponsor fielding several teams. Life would be a whole lot easier. As things were, they worked on the car themselves at a rented garage just outside Charlotte, North Carolina, the acknowledged hub of the stock car racing world.
Rick had wanted to race since he was a kid. Now, with no family except a sister up north he seldom saw, he was truly on his own and really didn’t mind being a kind of gypsy. Sure, one day he’d like to be married and settle down, but everything had to happen according to plan. He could not let anything get in his way, especially a beautiful redhead that made him want to kiss her till they were both breathless.
He quickened his pace toward the lounge, because right then a cold shower was what he needed more than anything else.
Later he would figure out how to make Liz Mallory quit.
Because he’d be doing both of them a favor.
“I’m just real sorry things happened like they did,” Mack said to Liz while they were waiting for Rick. “He’s really a nice guy.”
“Till it comes to women at a racetrack,” Liz said. “And he has got to stop thinking that every woman who approaches him wants to go out with him. There are plenty of genuine female race fans who aren’t romantically interested in the drivers, though I realize it must be hard for someone as egotistical as Rick to believe that.
“And I mean it when I say he’s got to be polite to everyone,” she added firmly.
“Hey, you don’t have to worry about that. Maybe you were coming on too strong, because you wanted to find out as much as you could about Rick and about the team. Ever think about that?”
She hadn’t, but, now that she did, allowed that perhaps Mack had a point. After all, Rick had been working, and she’d tripped over him, causing him to bump his head. No doubt, that had put him in a bad mood. Then she hadn’t gone away when he told her to. “Okay.” She managed a smile. “I’ll agree maybe I came on too strong and let it go.”
“Good. And welcome to the team. Things will be okay, and we’ll all enjoy working together.”
“All set?” Pete called from where he was standing with the camera ready. “The light is good, so I hope he’ll hurry up.”
Suddenly Liz remembered to ask Mack, “Did the new uniforms arrive?”
“Yeah. For the whole crew, too. I have to tell you, we’re going to look good tomorrow. Those are sharp outfits.”
Moments passed. Liz kept glancing at her watch. They were still okay for time but would not be for long.
The noise in the garage area was deafening as drivers pulled off the track. Practice was over. Soon it would be time for the meeting.
“I’m taking everyone out to dinner tonight,” Liz told Mack once things quieted down so he could hear. “It will give us a chance to get to know one another.”
Mack frowned. “Well, that’s nice of you, Liz, but have you told Rick? I mean, he and I are partners and we’ve been the ones to foot most of the bills since we started the team. It’s always been sort of traditional that we take the guys out for steaks the night before qualifying. I don’t think they’d like to change to pizza.
“Oh, not that they don’t like pizza,” he added quickly, eyes worriedly searching Liz’s face in hopes he hadn’t said the wrong thing. “Especially Big Boy’s. That’s one of the reasons we were so tickled when they offered sponsorship, because it’s always been our favorite, and…” He drifted into silence, obviously embarrassed for going on so.
Liz understood and cheerily assured, “Hey, I understand. And there’s no rule that says every time I take the team out we go for pizza. I’ve got an expense account, and steaks work for me. The only thing I’ll change about your tradition is paying the bill. How’s that?”
Mack said it was fine, but Liz knew it wasn’t, because she could tell Rick hadn’t wanted her tagging along. Well, that was just too bad. He was going to have to get used to having her around, as well as her calling the shots on lots of things from now on.
Gingerly she suggested, “Mack, I think you and I should get together for a meeting, just the two of us, and go over a few things. I realize this isn’t a big operation, like Hendrick Motorsports and the Pettys and a lot of others, so there’s not a team manager to really run things. But I can make things a lot smoother by taking care of motel and travel arrangements, in addition to overseeing the budget for expenses connected with team operations in general.”
“And you don’t want Rick to sit in?”
“Not this time. Let’s you and I talk first. I’d really like to go over the budget with you, too, because while I’m sure the sponsors appreciate you cutting corners to stretch the money, there are some things I’m sure they won’t like you skimping on.”
Liz was unaware she could be heard by the crew working on the car next to Rick’s. Not that they were purposely eavesdropping. They were just enjoying a little eye candy in the garage. Like Rick, they could not help but notice and appreciate the way her suit hugged her generous curves.
Concerned over what she had just said, Mack demanded, “Like what? Show me where I’ve skimped on anything.”
“Those tires.” She pointed. “Maybe they aren’t about to blow like you said the old ones were, but I still say they don’t look any better. The tread is completely gone, and—”
Liz was drowned out by a sudden explosion of laughter.
For a few seconds, Mack laughed, too, then, seeing the look on Liz’s face, took
