Race To The Altar

by Patricia Hagan

  Gary snorted. “Well, if our boy wins the rookie title, I’ll pull out all the stops and spend whatever it takes to put him right up there with them. This first year is a learning experience, anyway. I need to find out if the money is well-spent, whether our sales go up, and all the other figures my accountant nags about.”

  “Of course. And I’m doing everything I can to see you get your money’s worth.”

  He grinned and gave a big whirl that almost sent them bumping into Rick and Ida, dancing next to them. “You’re doing a hell of a job, Liz. I couldn’t be more pleased. And rest assured if Big Boy’s does stay in racing, your agency will get the contract.”

  Liz liked hearing that. “Oh, that’s great, and—”

  “About the party in Darlington,” he rushed on as the music wound down. “Make this one for all the drivers, crew-members, as well as the media. Nothing formal. Just something fun. Ida and I will fly in for it.”

  Liz said, “Well, since it’s for your accountant’s benefit, I’ll try to keep the cost down.”

  He quickly waved away that notion. “Don’t worry about spending money till I tell you to, Liz. Now let’s go mingle and make sure everyone is having a good time at this party.”

  There was no doubt about that, and at midnight, when the lease on the ballroom was up, Liz made quick arrangements with the hotel manager for another two hours.

  She passed Mack in the hall on his way to the elevator bank.

  “You’re just like that battery bunny,” he teased. “Still going strong.”

  She hadn’t seen Rick in quite a while and asked Mack if had he already gone up to his room.

  “Yeah, he told me he was sneaking out. I’m glad he did. We’ve got adjustments to make on the car first thing in the morning before practice runs.” He gave her a quick hug. “You did good. It was a huge success.”

  The elevator doors opened. Mack stepped inside, but Liz held out her hand to keep the doors from closing. “I talked to Rick when we were dancing. He admits he’s tired. I’m going to try to work out something for him to get a break. Would you have a problem with him flying home a day late?”

  “Not at all. What do you have in mind?”

  “I’m not sure yet. Just don’t say anything to him about it. It will have to be a surprise, because feeling like he does about me he’d likely oppose any idea I came up with.”

  He held a finger to his lips. “Don’t worry. I won’t say a word.”

  Liz turned back toward the ballroom.

  Rick had said he’d like a day in the desert. Well, she would give him one.

  The only thing was—she had to be a part of the package, and he was not going to like that one little bit.

  Rick stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows and gazed out at the awesome view of Las Vegas by night. Thousands, no, millions, of lights glittered as the city lay sprawled before him like a gigantic Christmas tree.

  As always in a quiet moment, thoughts of Liz came to mind.

  He wasn’t tired, as he’d told her.

  Neither was he irritable with the team because he needed a break.

  It was Liz, and the situation was driving him crazy.

  He liked her and wanted her, and, hell, he worried he might even be falling in love with her.

  And no matter how hard he tried, there didn’t seem to be a damn thing he could do about it.

  Chapter Ten

  Liz was beside herself.

  It didn’t matter that she had slipped in an oil spill in the pits, fallen on her bottom and had black streaks all over her slacks.

  Neither did she care that her face was dirty or that her head was pounding from listening to the roar of race cars all afternoon.

  What did matter was that Rick had finished the race in the top ten, and she, along with Mack and the rest of the crew were going crazy they were so happy.

  Mack spun her around till she was dizzy. “This is going to put us way ahead in points. We’re on our way now, for sure. Come on, let’s meet him in the garage when he pulls in.”

  The whole team joined hands, running in a human chain and cheering at the top of their lungs.

  Rick crawled out of the car and fell into Mack’s arms for a good-buddy back pounding. Then he high-fived everyone else…except Liz.

  He gave her no more than a grin and a polite nod.

  She made no effort to get close, instead calling out to congratulate before melting into the crowd of fans that were swarming.

  Rick signed autographs for a few minutes and then begged off to go to the drivers’ lounge and get a shower and change.

  Liz found Benny and got him to unlock the truck so she could retrieve her laptop from where she had left it during the race. She needed to write a press release elaborating on Rick’s performance. As always, there was no guarantee any of the media would use it, but she would make it available to them, anyway.

  “Are you gonna be going back with me?” Benny asked, handing her the leather satchel with her computer. “I’m hittin’ the road just as soon as everything’s loaded.”

  “No,” she told him, without regret, “I’m flying. But thanks, anyway.”

  “Well, if you change your mind let me know. I doubt you’ll be able to get a flight back with the others, though.”

  With everything else going on the past few days she had not thought about making a reservation for the return flight home. Rushing to the infield media center, she found a quiet corner where she could use her cell phone to call the airline.

  Sure enough, as Benny predicted, the late flight to Atlanta, where she’d have to change for Charlotte, was booked. Worse, there was nothing available till the next night. That meant she was stuck in Vegas. Maybe some people would not find that a bad thing, but Liz knew she wouldn’t have any fun by herself.

  “Would you like a window or aisle seat?” the woman on the other end of the line asked.

  Liz was about to say it didn’t matter when Luke Hembree, a sportswriter from a North Carolina newspaper walked in, glanced around, saw her and angrily yelled, “Hey, what’s wrong with your driver? He just snapped my head off.”

  “I’ll have to call you back,” she said, and quickly hung up.

  “I just asked for a few quotes,” Luke said. “You know he and Blevins were rubbing fenders on those last two laps, and Blevins was already six laps down. I thought maybe it was a grudge thing, because everybody knows Blevins is the only driver who has a chance of beating out Castles for the rookie title. Well, he chewed me out and said he had enough on his mind without me trying to stir something up.”

  Liz tried to smooth things over. “I’m really sorry, Luke. He’s just tired, that’s all.”

  “Which is too bad, because if he’s got personal problems it’s not only going to affect his relationship with the media, but his driving, too. Maybe you better talk to him.”

  “Let me see if I can get him in here—”

  Luke had started to walk away but spun around. “Don’t bother. I wouldn’t print his name now if he’d won the damn race.”

  Liz sank into the nearest chair, knees shaking. If Rick really was getting stressed-out, then Luke was right—eventually it would affect his racing and, ultimately, her job. Because how could she get publicity for him if no one could stand him?

  She took her cell phone and hit redial. When she finally got through to reservations, she said, “Make it a window and aisle seat on tomorrow’s flight. There’ll be two of us going.”

  All it took was another quick call to Gary Staley on his cell phone to get everything arranged the way she wanted.

  He was still in the private suite he had rented for all his guests, high above the track. There was a lot of noise in the background, and she knew they were celebrating Rick’s finish.

  “Didn’t you say you weren’t flying home till tomorrow?” she asked.

  “That’s right. There’s a show Ida wants to see tonight. Why?”

  “I was wondering if you’d like to invite Ri
ck for a quiet little dinner tonight.”

  She held her breath.

  “Hmm,” he said slowly. “That’s an idea. I really don’t get a chance to talk to him much away from a crowd. But, say, isn’t he going back on the late flight to Atlanta?”

  “Not if you want to have dinner. I can arrange to get him home tomorrow.”

  “Good. Then do it. And will you be joining us, too?”

  She grinned into the phone. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Rushing, she got together a short story on Rick’s performance in the day’s race, e-mailed it, then hurried back to the garage.

  The crew had loaded just about everything. Only the car was left to be rolled up the ramp.

  Benny teased, “I figured you’d change your mind. Just throw your stuff in. I’m about ready to pull out.”

  Liz merrily responded, “Well, I can’t go with you unless you’re leaving tomorrow.”

  Mack, standing nearby with Rick, heard her and said, “I thought you were flying back with us tonight.”

  “Can’t. The big kahuna, himself, wants to do dinner.”

  “Staley?” Mack said, surprised. “You mean you’ve got to stay over to go out with him?”

  “And his wife,” she was quick to make clear. Then she dared look at Rick, who was quietly listening. “You, too.”

  “Huh?”

  “You, too,” she repeated. “He says he never gets a chance to talk to you when there isn’t a crowd around.”

  “But I’ll never make my flight,” he protested.

  “Don’t worry. It’s all taken care of. You’re flying out tomorrow night with me.” She looked to Mack. “One day won’t make any difference, will it? He’ll still have time to get ready for Atlanta.”

  Mack nodded. “Oh, heck, yeah. We won’t leave for Atlanta till Wednesday. Qualifying is Thursday.”

  Rick looked ready to explode. “Next time, clear things with me before you go changing my reservation. Maybe I don’t want to stay over.”

  “Well, maybe nobody cares what you want,” she said frostily, not liking how he was glaring at her. “Not when it comes to pleasing the person who signs your paycheck, Castles. And you’d be wise to stow that attitude between now and seven o’clock or you might find yourself back racing hillbilly short tracks. I heard about how you snapped at Luke Hembree.”

  “Yeah,” he admitted. “He was trying to stir something up…make it look like Blevins and I have a grudge going. I won’t respond to that kind of nonsense.”

  “Well, I think you could have handled it a bit more tactfully. And like I said, stow that attitude.”

  She was almost to where she’d parked her rental car when Mack came running up.

  “Listen, I’m sorry about all that. I just don’t know what’s eating him lately, but he’s not happy about having to stay over tonight.”

  “That’s too bad.” She unlocked a rear door and put her things on the seat. “But when Luke Hembree told me how rudely he had behaved, I knew something had to be done.”

  “And you think making him stay over to eat with the boss is going to fix things?”

  “That’s not the whole plan, Mack. I just arranged having dinner with Mr. Staley to have an excuse to change Rick’s reservation. I knew if I told him what I really had planned—to give him a little R and R—he’d never agree. This way, he doesn’t have a choice.”

  “Aha.” Mack leaned back against the side of the car, relaxing. “Suppose you tell me more.”

  “Well, we both agree Rick is uptight. He needs a break. You said he likes the outdoors, so I’m going to plan a day of sight-seeing tomorrow. Let him get out in the desert and unwind. It might not do any good, but it sure can’t hurt.”

  “That’s a fact.” He stepped away from the car, raised his arm, and she matched him for the familiar high-five. “Good work. I just wish Rick appreciated you as much as the rest of us.”

  So do I, she silently, soberly, agreed. So do I.

  When the phone’s shrill ringing awoke him from a sound sleep, Rick grabbed it and barked a hello. With a whole day to kill before his flight that night, he’d planned to sleep for most of it.

  “Rick, hi. It’s me.”

  With a groan, he sank back against the pillows and threw an arm over his face. The last voice he wanted to hear was hers. “What do you want? And how come you woke me up? If I have to waste time, at least I can try to catch up on my sleep.”

  “Ah, but you aren’t going to waste any time,” she said exuberantly. “Because I’ve got the day all planned, and you’ve got exactly thirty minutes to get ready and meet me in the lobby. And wear something casual. I think it’s going to be a warm day.”

  “Wait a minute.” He bolted upright. “What are you talking about?”

  “Thirty minutes,” she sang into the phone. “Oh, and wear some comfortable shoes, too.”

  Rick sat there listening to the dial tone buzzing in his ear as he wondered what the heck was going on. If she thought he was going to spend the day signing autographs in a parking lot in the blazing sun, she was crazy.

  And he would tell her so.

  He got up, opened the drapes and saw that it did look like a sizzling day ahead. But no matter. He was going to crawl right back in bed and spend it in air-conditioned comfort as soon as he set Liz straight.

  He took a quick shower, put on jeans, T-shirt and sneakers, and went down to the lobby.

  He was early. She’d said a half hour. It had only been twenty minutes.

  His stomach growled, reminding him he hadn’t eaten anything, and he went into the coffee shop.

  And there she stood, right at the cash register.

  He stepped up and put a hand on her arm. “Okay, what’s this all about? I’m not signing autographs, because there’s been no advance publicity. Nobody would show up, and it would be a waste of time.”

  “Who said anything about autographs?” She was signing a check, then, with a smile and a murmured “Have a nice day” to the cashier, she took the basket sitting on the counter and handed it to Rick. “You can carry this.”

  “Listen, I’m getting real tired of you making plans without asking me first. And whatever you’ve got in mind for today, you can do it alone—”

  “I will not take no for an answer. Now come on. We’re going to have a fun day.”

  “Says who? What am I carrying here, anyway?”

  “We are going to the desert. You said you wished you had time when you were out here. Well, now you do.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No, I’m not. After all, why should we waste the day? Come on. I’ve got it all planned. The hotel packed us a great lunch, and I’ve got a map that will take us to a ghost town about an hour’s drive from here.”

  He hung back. “I’m not so sure this is a good idea.”

  “Well, after the way you treated Luke yesterday, I think you need to unwind. That wasn’t very smart of you, by the way.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he admitted. “I’d planned to give him a call and apologize.”

  “Well, you need a break, so maybe today will help.”

  No, Rick thought miserably as he doggedly followed her out of the hotel and to the parking lot, it was not going to help. Maybe he was stressed-out, but spending the day with the person causing it was a real no-brainer. Only she had no way of knowing that, so he could only cooperate and hope the time passed quickly.

  “You drive. I’ll navigate.” She tossed him the keys.

  He looked at her as they were getting into the car. She was wearing capris and one of his souvenir T-shirts.

  With her hair pulled back in a ponytail and tied with a scarf, she was completely different from the glamorous woman he’d danced with Friday night…but still appealing…and still the one that crept into his dreams at night to make him wake up in a cold sweat.

  She unfolded a map. “Do you want to see Hoover Dam?”

  Her tone told him she didn’t, and he wasn’t particul
arly keen on any kind of tour. “No. Let’s just go find your ghost town and then get back to the hotel.”

  She gave the map a loud rattle. “Now listen, buster. I told you—this is going to be a fun day. And you’re going to have fun if I have to pound it into you.”

  They looked at each other and burst into laughter.

  Rick couldn’t help it. Her eyes had a mischievous gleam, and she was rattling the part of him that longed to be naughty, too. “So, okay. We’ll do it even if we wind up killing each other.”

  She gave him a playful whack with the map she’d folded back up. “Hey, you’re the one who can’t stand me.”

  “I never said that.”

  “You didn’t have to. You’ve made it clear in too many ways to count.”

  To change the subject, which was getting a bit uncomfortable, Rick indicated the basket he had placed between them. “What’s in there? Probably silly little open-faced sandwiches, dainty little cookies, and a cooler of iced tea. Chick things,” he added with a snicker.

  “Proves how much you know.” She lifted the lid to give him a peek. “Fried chicken, potato salad, ham-and-cheese sandwiches, and some fresh-baked goodies to die for.

  “And—” she reached in and took one out “—ice-cold beer.”

  He was pleased and grudgingly allowed, “Well, maybe you are good for something besides getting in the way.”

  “I’ll let that pass, since I don’t want to let anything spoil today. So suppose we call a truce?”

  She held out her hand.

  He shook it without hesitation. “Deal.”

  With a sigh of relief, Liz leaned back and propped her feet on the dash. “Okay, let me study this map so we won’t get lost once we hit the desert.”

  “We already are. You just can’t see it for all the hotels and casinos.”

  And it appeared he was right. One minute they were in the glitz and glitter of Las Vegas, and the next they were surrounded by barren land as far as the eye could see.

  After a while, Rick asked, “Hey, navigator. Are you sure you know how to read that map?”