by Misty Evans
She still couldn’t get past what he’d just said. She’d seen the cameras, but never thought about her family seeing her on television.
Her stomach roiled. “I didn’t know it would be televised.”
“So you thought it would be a good idea to act like a whore because it wasn’t on TV?”
Van flinched, then rose to her full five-foot-seven height. “That is enough.” She’d never stood up to him before or spoken to him like this, but even she had her limits. “I am not a whore.”
He sighed. “When you disgrace yourself in public, what will everyone think? Your mother has locked herself in our bedroom and refuses to come out. She claims it was a waste. All that we did for you. All the pushing. You have goals, Vanessa. You know that you have to work twice as hard—”
“To be considered half as good,” she finished for him, tired of the same old lectures. “I know. But that doesn’t mean I don’t get to live my life.”
“You need to get yourself back in line. This boy will jeopardize everything you’ve worked for.”
Yeah, that’s what she was worried about. “Dad, I’m actually happy. Doesn’t that matter or anything?”
He shook his head. “This is David all over again. You weeping that you ‘loved’ him. He didn’t love you and this one doesn’t either. You have to see that.”
“You going to run this one off too. Pay him to go away like you did with David.”
“Don’t be childish. That boy wanted you following him around while he went on tour as a musician. Get real. Now after I’ve extricate you from that situation, you’re now a pit girl for a race car driver?”
“Dad—”
“No, that’s enough. I’m thinking it’s time you moved back near home. It will make your mother happy and maybe you will be more focused that way, because being here certainly isn’t doing it.”
This had to stop. She loved him, but he would always do this if she didn’t set some ground rules. “No.”
“What did you say to me?”
She rolled her shoulders. “I said no.”
He pointed a finger at her. “You have lost your ever loving mind. You will do as you’re told. I have plans for you.”
“What, Dad? What are these plans?”
“You know the plan, you’re supposed to be running your own company by the time you’re thirty. We’ve talked about this for years. It means independence for you. That you can take care of yourself.”
“I’ve been doing that since I left home. You’re the only one who doesn’t seem to know I’m not a kid anymore. I can make my own decisions. You just want to control me. But you don’t own me. I’m my own person.”
“Is that boy putting these ideas in your head?”
“He’s a man, Dad. A grownup. And so am I. I can make my own choices, my own decisions.”
“You’re willing to cut yourself off from your family for this boy?”
“You’re the one making that decision. Not me.”
Chapter Fifteen
Alex called. Van didn’t answer.
He texted. No reply.
Through the walls, he’d heard snippets of the conversation between Van and her father. No, he shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but what the hell? Major Fucking Rodriquez liked to raise his voice. Could he help it if he overheard a voice that sounded a lot like Morgan Freeman?
Fuck. Van had sent him away as if he were nothing but the pizza delivery guy. Her eyes had gone all shuttered and she’d been embarrassed. Embarrassed to be seen with him in front of her father.
So much for her promises. What did that say about their relationship?
Just like mom and dad. Breaking promises and running away.
He paced the floor of his bedroom, torn between wanting to defend Van from her father’s tirade and demanding she explain her sudden change of heart. He’d had the best weekend of his life with her and that race. Had it meant so little to her?
He checked his phone. Nothing. The only good thing was he didn’t have any calls or texts from his parents. If the race had been televised like the major said, his family hadn’t seen it yet. Since they never paid attention to sports of any kind, they most likely wouldn’t.
But his parents would never raise their voices like Van’s father was doing. They’d tsk and shake their heads, and then stare at him, disappointed, waiting for an explanation.
There was no explanation other than the cold, hard truth. If there was anything he hated, it was disappointing people who loved him.
Cold sweat broke out along his hairline. Grabbing his laptop, he ran a search on the Internet. He found the race video on YouTube with a link to one of the local cable sports channels. His win, his shaking hands with George Armenta, and his kissing Van were out there on the World Wide Web. Along with the video was an article about his potential bright future under the wing of the former NASCAR superstar.
Great. His parents were one thing, but his sister was a YouTube addict. What if she saw this?
He clicked off the Internet and shoved his computer aside. Van and her dad had grown quiet, but Alex couldn’t stand it anymore. He wouldn’t go over there, and he couldn’t stay in his place, making himself crazy either. He needed a distraction.
Twenty minutes later, he was at the 3 Wishes office building. Sunday night meant no one was there but the janitors. He could catch up on some work, distract himself.
He was dissecting the next holiday campaign fundraiser project when he heard someone clear her throat from his office door. “Warning. The ʼrents are looking for you.”
Startled out of his spreadsheet-induced coma, he looked up to find Jen grinning from ear to ear. He shuffled a few papers, avoiding meeting her eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you.” She dropped an envelope on his desk. His name was scribbled in red crayon. “You weren’t at your place, and when I knocked on Van’s door, she about took my head off saying she didn’t know where you were. You two have a fight or something? You looked pretty happy in in that Vegas video.”
Alex groaned and tossed the pen he’d been making notes with onto the envelope. “You saw that?”
She plopped down into the chair across from him, her ponytail swinging. “Are you going to call that Armenta guy? Westin told me he offered you a place on the new team he’s developing.”
“No, of course not. Wait…you talked to Westin? Aren’t you upset that I’m racing again?”
She sat back, her blue eyes going for that innocent look she’d perfected at the age of five. “Me? Upset? You always loved racing. I’ve felt guilty all these years because mom and dad made you give it up for me—although, technically, you know they made you give it up because they were scared shitless that something would happen to you, Golden Boy. Besides, I’ve known since your housewarming party. I saw the suit in your room.”
“I’m not a golden boy. You were snooping in my bedroom?”
“I was looking for weed, and found something better. I had planned to hold it over your head. You know, blackmail. I want you to hook me up with Chad in the mailroom. Figured if you refused, I’d threaten to tell John and Martha you were racing.”
And Van thought he was incorrigible. “You don’t do drugs and neither do I. You have a thing for Chad?” He rubbed his forehead, a headache forming from trying to get up to speed. “You know he’s gay, right?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Damn.” She slapped the arm of the chair. “Maybe Van has a brother?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Could you ask her? Or maybe she has a male friend she could set me up with?”
“Van and I aren’t exactly…” Shit, what should he say?
His sister seemed to read his mind. “Speaking? Why not? You two are perfect together. What happened?”
“Nothing. It’s just…her dad’s in town.”
“So?”
Exactly. “I don’t know. She was acting weird when I dropped her at her pl
ace.” Maybe since his sister was a girl, she could explain it to him. “Her father saw the racing video, too, but it almost seemed like he was pissed in general that she was with me. Van told me to get lost. She introduce me as her neighbor.”
“No.”
“Yes. When I asked when I’d see her again, she said, ‘I don’t know.’”
“You probably misunderstood.”
Had he? “She’s done this to me multiple times. Led me on, then pushed me away. She promised this time would be different. We had made the commitment to be exclusive.”
His sister’s face fell. “I’m sorry, Alex. I can tell you really like her. You deserve better than that.”
Before he could say anything, he heard his mother’s voice calling down the hall. “Alex? Are you in there?”
He narrowed his eyes at his sister. “You told them I was here.”
Her eyes did that innocent thing again. “I didn’t, I swear. It’s not like you have a life outside of work. Where else would you be if you’re not at home?”
Wow. Didn’t that say it all?
“Or the race track,” Jen added flippantly, grinning again. She stood, ready to run and leave him on his own with the firing squad. “Look, Alex, it’s time you started living your life and following your dreams, not the ones Mom and Dad have for you. I love that you’re racing and I’ll tell them that, but whatever you do, call that guy and get a place on his team. You have my blessing, and 3 Wishes will survive without you, Golden Boy.”
His mother blew in the door, her frizzy hair and flowing dress trailing in her wake. “Alex.” She looked surprised to see Jen, and absentmindedly hugged her even as she zeroed in on him. “There you are.”
Ready… Alex stood, bracing his feet and his emotions for the coming onslaught.
His dad, in a suit jacket and jeans, followed his mother in the door, and on his heels, came Grant Richards, the CEO of 3 Wishes. Both men acknowledged him with a nod, but looked uncomfortable. No doubt his mother had filled them with doom and gloom scenarios related to the video.
“Oh, look at the time.” Jen kissed their father on the cheek and skirted past Grant. “I’m late for my knitting class.”
Knitting. Right. Alex had the sneaking suspicion the knitting class was as fake as her crush on Chad the mail boy. “Jen…?”
“That letter is from Annie Harrington.” She pointed at the envelope she’d laid on his desk. “A thank you. It’s really cute. She colored a dog like the one you brought her from L.A.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Call me later!”
She disappeared out the door.
Thanks for the support.
A stiff silence fell in the room. His mother drew closer, her eyes searching his face as if the answer to world peace were hiding there.
Aim… “What in the world were you thinking, Alex?”
He started to answer but she cut him off. “Did you think we wouldn’t find out?”
Actually, yeah. He decided to try the innocent-Jen-routine. Always worked for her. “Find out about what, exactly?”
Martha’s brows crashed together, causing a deep crease in her forehead. “Alex, really. Racing?”
Playing dumb never worked for him. “I’m a grown man, Mom. It’s my hobby.”
“How long has this been going on?”
He was too raw from Van’s rejection to lie. “I never actually stopped.”
She sat in the chair with a heavy, disbelieving plop. “You’ve been lying to us all along?”
“Not lying, per se…”
His father cleared his throat. “Your mother and I forbade you from racing when you were fifteen and you did it anyway?”
Alex looked his father in the eye. Don’t back down. “I love racing and I’m damn good at it. Instead of coming in here and chastising me, why don’t you congratulate me? I’ve been offered a spot on George Armenta’s new European Formula 2 team. The odds of that happening for a guy like me are one in a million.”
Alex had heard his father raise his voice a total of three times in his life. A dark flush rose up from John’s neck and his eyes went hard and unforgiving. “You lied to us!”
Fire…
Kudos from his parents were too much to expect, but their hostility floored him. He’d always done what they wanted. Always knocked himself out to be the son they could rely on and be proud of.
In the end, it didn’t matter. “I’m not a teenager anymore and what I choose to do in my spare time is really none of your business.”
His mother, who always had a flare for the dramatic, pressed a hand against her heart as he were breaking it. “But your sister—”
He interrupted her. “My sister was just here to give me her blessing and tell me to follow my dreams.”
Martha sucked in a sharp breath. “Jenna would never want you to do anything so risky! You’re lying now just like you did then. How can you be so selfish and self-centered?”
Fire…again.
The accusation cut him to the quick. He’d never been selfish a day in his life. Except maybe with Van.
His father stepped behind the chair and patted his mother’s shoulder. “Is this some kind of acting out, Alex? Because we paid so much attention to Jenna after her accident. Because of the divorce? Is this is your way of getting back at your mother and I?”
They insisted on treating him like he was still a teen. “Don’t be ridiculous. Jenna needed you. I never felt slighted in the least. This has nothing to do what that or the fact you two can’t get along except here at 3 Wishes.”
“Then why are you doing this to us? To me?” his mother said.
He couldn’t win. Not with Van. Not with his parents. Sitting down, he took a deep breath and tried to explain. “This isn’t about you, Mom, or the past. This is about me wanting to race because I love it.”
Her lips firmed, mouth turning down at the corners. “You could be killed.”
“I could be killed on the way to work every morning. Have you seen rush hour traffic on the I-5?”
Eyes snapping at his challenging tone, she leaned forward and pointed a finger at him. “You are too important to this foundation. People—kids and their families—are counting on you.” She tapped a finger on the envelope. “Annie Harrington. You set her up with a canine companion and her mother reports she’s doing well in school again. Her grades are up and she has friends now, Alex. Friends! All the kids want to check out her dog and that means they talk to her and then they get to know her. She’s not just a girl in a wheelchair anymore. The dog has bridged the gap for her and she can go to school and act like a semi-normal girl again. Do you know what a gift you’ve given her?”
Guilt. A familiar ploy. “3 Wishes has a fantastic board of directors, an enthusiastic workforce, and more volunteers than we can count. It doesn’t thrive because of me and me alone. I could disappear tomorrow and the foundation would continue to run just fine. We have a dozen volunteers who could have brought that dog back from L.A. for Annie.”
She huffed out a breath and sat back, sending a pleading look at his father. The two of them exchanged some sort of nonverbal message. In both of their eyes, Alex could swear he detected love.
Go figure. With six exes between them, his parents were still in love with each other.
John crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re in line for director, Alex. You keep saying you’re a grown man who can make his own decisions, but it seems to me you have some growing up to do. You have responsibilities to the Foundation. Tell him, Grant.”
The CEO puffed out his cheeks and avoided Alex’s eyes. “Someday, you’ll be in my position. You can’t run this company if you’re dead.”
They seemed to care more about what he did at the foundation than his role in the family. Maybe that was his fault. He was the family Golden Boy. 3 Wishes Golden Boy. Another version of Alex he didn’t want to be anymore.
After what had happened with Jen and the accident, he hadn’t known what his place in their family was.
He’d hated seeing his sister in so much physical pain, and his parents in such emotional plain. The only way to help all of them and fit into their stressed out family was by being the kid who didn’t make waves and did what he could for each of them to make things easier.
Van was right. He was a Boy Scout. A Boy Scout no one was happy with anymore.
Exhaustion—both physical and mental—washed over him. First Van had thrown him out, leaving him doubting her commitment to their relationship. Jen had thrown her support his way, but then left him stranded. Now his parents and his boss were ganging up on him, telling him to stop acting like a kid.
His phone sat on the desk. The screen showed no missed calls. No texts.
Van, the woman he was falling in love with, hadn’t called or texted him with any type of explanation. She’d been more than embarrassed to admit to her father that the two of them were in a committed relationship.
His mother’s stormy eyes searched his face. His father had laid a hand on her shoulder again in support, his anger at Alex more about the fact he’d upset Martha than over the racing.
Alex’s gaze fell to his desktop once more. The envelope with Annie’s drawing. Do you know what a gift you’ve given her?
Opening the envelope, he took out the picture. A yellow dog with its red service vest sat next to a girl in a wheelchair. The girl had a big smile on her face and the two were positioned on top of a drawing of the earth. On top of the world. We love you, she’d written in red.
Alex sighed. Maybe all of this was for the best. The dream had been fun—not only the one about racing, but about Van. He did have responsibilities here and running off to Europe for some gig on a formula team was the stuff for kids, not an adult like him. Even though Van had rejected him, he wasn’t ready to leave her or his family.
The race in L.A. the following weekend was off. A meeting with George was out. No need to waste the man’s time.