Winter Whirlwind

by Amy Sparling

  All of the air rushes out of my lungs. I never set out to become famous in my life, but, an article based on me? The wife of the guy everyone loves? My lips twist into a smile. “How could I say no to that, Mark?”

  He smiles and shakes my hand. “I look forward to working with you.”

  Chapter 4

  I find Jace as soon as he’s finished with his client and I’m so excited I can’t stop bouncing on my toes. We’re standing outside near the bleachers and he watches me with a weird fascination.

  “What is it?” he asks, grabbing my arms to steady me.

  I stop bouncing and grin up at him. “Do you know the guy who runs Texas Motocross Magazine?”

  Jace nods. “Mark, right?”

  My grin widens. I grab Jace’s shoulders and tell him all about my impromptu meeting with Mark and about the article and the photoshoot. Partway through I start getting nervous that maybe he’ll have some kind of problem with it, like maybe he doesn’t want me doing an article about our lives.

  But as soon as I finish telling him the story, he is all smiles.

  “Babe!” he says, pulling me in for a quick kiss. “That is awesome!”

  “I know, right?” I have to bite the inside of my lip to keep from smiling like an idiot. “Oh, and you have to look up that picture on his Facebook page. It is so cute.”

  “Will do,” he says, kissing me again. “I have a client arriving soon so we’ll talk more later, okay?”

  “Okay,” I say, squeezing his hand. As I walk back to the building, I am filled with a sense of accomplishment, even though I didn’t really do much to earn it. Still, someone out there thinks my life as Jace’s wife, Jett’s mom, and a business manager is worth writing about. And that’s pretty cool.

  I tell myself not to let it get to my head, because it’s not like I’m suddenly famous or anything. But still, it is pretty awesome. When I get back inside, I tell Becca the whole story again and she’s just as psyched as Jace was. We spend five minutes giggling and freaking out about it, and even Jett seems excited too, although he has no idea what we’re talking about.

  “Oh, by the way,” Becca says, reaching for a stack of papers behind the front counter. “These are for you.”

  “What are they?” I ask, wrinkling my eyebrows. “Wait . . .” I flip through the stack. There’s at least ten papers, all different and some of them printed on colorful paper. “Are these resumes?”

  Becca nods. “Yep. Apparently some people thought they’d be more likely to get the job if they applied in person instead of online. They were all pretty disappointed when I told them I didn’t know where you were. One girl said she’d be back in an hour.”

  “Cool,” I say with a nod. “This is weird. I’m like, still trying to figure out how to interview people,” I say with a laugh. “I don’t think I’m prepared to talk to someone right now!”

  Becca nods. “Yeah, it is weird. It’s like we’re too young to be hiring people, ya know?”

  “Exactly,” I say.

  Becca shrugs and claps me on the shoulder. “Good thing this is your problem and not mine,” she says with a snort.

  I groan. “Why are you my best friend again?” I ask teasingly.

  She blows me a kiss. “Because I’m awesome.”

  *

  My photoshoot is scheduled for next week, so I hit the gym extra hard each day in order to look as amazing as possible for it. The résumés from potential child care employees are pouring in and by the third day, Becca and I have a huge stack to go through. We narrow them down by removing the résumés of clearly crazy people, aka-a guy who listed dealing stolen prescription pills as his previous job experience, and focusing on people with good qualities.

  “What about this one?” I ask, holding up a pale pink piece of paper.

  Becca’s eyebrow quirks. “You’re only picking it because it’s pink.”

  I laugh. “That’s why I looked at it, but still . . . She looks very qualified.” I hold up the paper. “She’s seventeen and she’s worked at her mom’s daycare since she was fourteen. She says she also grew up there with her mom so she knows all the ins and outs of child care and she’s CPR certified. She doesn’t live far away.” I look at Becca and press the pink paper to my chest. “I want to hire this girl.”

  “Gimme,” she says, taking the paper to read over it herself. “Damn, this is impressive,” she says a moment later. “Her name is Deja Williams. Call her now,” she says, rattling off the phone number.

  A trill of anxiety and excitement flows through me at the idea of interviewing our first employee. And not just any employee—one that will help me directly with my job. I dial her number and Becca and I make big-eyed excited grins at each other as I wait for Deja to answer. She answers on the second ring and sounds just as perfect as I’d expected her to on the phone. She agrees to come in for an interview in the morning. When we hang up, Becca and I squee.

  “Should we call other people for interviews, too?” she asks, shuffling the other résumés.

  I bite my lip. “Let’s see how it goes with Deja first. I mean, she’s pretty much already got the job in my mind.”

  “You are a very determined person,” she says, walking over to the work computer at the end of the counter. She pulls up the Track’s Facebook page and types something.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, shoving in beside her.

  She grins. “Nothing. Just complaining about how weird the boss’s wife is . . .”

  My eyes go wide but then I see that she’s only posting about the upcoming gym membership special that Park came up with earlier today. I shove her in the arm. “I don’t know why I keep falling for your jokes,” I mutter as I look back at Deja’s resume.

  “Um, Bay?” Becca says a minute later. “You might want to see this.”

  Jace walks in the front door at the same time, his expression hard to read. He’s definitely not mad, but maybe he’s a little amused? “Have you see the—” he begins, only to stop when he sees the computer screen. “Yep, you have.”

  “Seen what?” I ask, moving over to look at the Facebook page.

  Becca scrolls up and I read what our Facebook followers have been saying. Earlier today, Mark made a post on his magazine’s page and he tagged The Track in it. It talks about how their new issue will include a feature of me. And then I read the comments.

  Jace’s wife is so freaking hot.

  Why do chicks always fall for the fast guys? Can’t a slow ass rider like me ever get one, lol.

  THAT’S Jace Adam’s wife? Shit, I should probably stop hitting on her every time I see her.

  WOOHOO! Finally some girls in your magazine that aren’t vapid models.

  That last comment was from a lady that looks old enough to be someone’s grandmother. My lips slide to the side of my mouth. “This is weird,” I say, not knowing what to make of the comments. I mean I guess I should be flattered? But this is so weird.

  Jace slides an arm around my waist and tugs me to him in a side hug. “My wife is more famous than I am. I’m a little jealous.”

  I roll my eyes. “Whatever. I’m not anywhere close to your famousness. Besides,” I say, rising up on my toes to kiss him, “I’ve had to put up with your famousness for three years. It’s time for you to get some of your own medicine.”

  His hand slides lower and he squeezes my ass. “I’m man enough to handle it,” he says with a wink. He points to the computer screen. “But if that guy comes in here and hits on you again I’m going to whoop his ass.”

  Chapter 5

  Jace looks up from his fast food breakfast sandwich when I walk into work the next morning. He smiles and shakes his head at me.

  “What?” I say, bending down to let Jett slip off my hip so he can run to his daddy.

  “You are ridiculously excited about this job interview, huh?” he says, taking a sip of coffee. “You’re practically bouncing off the walls. I take it she’ll be here soon?”

  “Yes and don’t make
fun of me for being excited,” I say, sticking out my tongue. I walk over to him and slip my arms around his back, watching him while he eats and goes over his client list at the same time.

  “I’m still thinking about last night,” he says, his voice low. I look up at him, still clinging tightly to him.

  “Oh yeah?” I say, leaning against his arm. “Tell me more.”

  “I loooove when you’re on top,” he whispers. There’s no one else in the room but our two-year-old, but his low voice sends a rush of desire through me. “It’s sexy as hell.”

  “Well maybe you’ll get that again tonight,” I say, smiling.

  He wiggles his eyebrows and turns around, slipping his hands around my waist. I slide my hands up his chest and wrap them around his neck. “I love you,” he says.

  “I love you,” I say, smiling as I pull up to kiss him. He tastes like coffee.

  “Daddy!” Jett squeals. We both look down and find him banging on Jace’s leg with his little chubby fist. “Daddy, pick,” he says, wanting to be picked up.

  Jace levels a seductive gaze at me. “We’ll finish this talk later?”

  I nod once. “Meet me in our special meeting place, tonight at nine.”

  “Cool,” he says, bending to pick up Jett. “Wait, we have a meeting place?”

  I put a hand on my hip. “I meant our bed. Obviously.”

  “Ah,” he says and I swear a see a hint of pink fill his tanned cheeks. “I’ll be there.”

  *

  Deja arrives exactly on time. Not that I had expected anything less from the job applicant I’ve already hired in my mind. She’s short, sweet, and very pretty with brown skin and dark hair that’s pulled back in a perky ponytail. She calls me Mrs. Adams and she’s polite and perfect and everything I could want in a person who will help me care for Jett.

  “So, your main job would be watching Jett, my two-year-old,” I say, after we’ve started talking more about the job and less about her. “I’m kind of the business manager around here so I’m always running around doing whatever needs to be done and I just need to know that Jett is safe so I don’t have to worry about him.”

  “I’m really great with kids,” she says, smiling. “So that shouldn’t be a problem.”

  I lean forward. “Would you like to meet Jett?”

  She beams. “Totally!”

  My final test for hiring her is to see how she gets along with Jett. And the meeting goes better than I could have planned. I show her the kid’s room and she’s clearly impressed with it, which makes me feel awesome about my decorating skills. And then after a while, Becca, who had been playing with Jett while I conducted the interview, leaves us with him and heads back to man the front desk.

  Jett takes to her immediately, smiling and laughing as she drops to the floor to play with him. When she tells me he’s the cutest kid she’s ever seen, I am totally enamored with her.

  I sit on the couch next to where Deja plays with Jett and his toy train. “So, Deja,” I say, clasping my hands together. “I’d love to offer you the job, if you’re still interested?”

  She beams. “Oh my god, really? I would love to work here. This place is awesome and Jett is so cute.”

  I grin, feeling a little guilty about the stack of applicants that I never bothered to bring in for an interview. But this isn’t about spending forever trying to hire someone—when it comes to my son, it’s a gut feeling. And Deja and Jett are a perfect match. They’re already friends and he’s only known her a short while.

  “So, when can you start?”

  Chapter 6

  The Track is packed full of people on the day my magazine interview and photoshoot is supposed to take place. It’s a beautiful January morning, and much warmer than usual for this time of year, so I guess that’s why everyone wanted to come out today.

  Jace and Park are fully booked with training clients for the entire day, from five in the morning until eight at night. There’s even walk-in clients who knew they couldn’t get an appointment but begged to just hang out and watch Jace and Park teach others. And hiring Deja couldn’t have come at a better time because now there’s three other kids in the kid room with her and Jett. She assures me she can handle it all though, so I apologize for the thousandth time and head into the main office when it’s time for my interview.

  I’m expecting Mark again, but a tall lanky guy with a computer bag slung over his shoulder smiles at me as I enter the room. “Mrs. Adams?” he asks, extending a hand to me. “I’m Ricky.”

  “Hi Ricky,” I say, donning a polite smile. “Are you with Mark?”

  “I’m here instead of Mark,” he explains. “I’m the writer so I’ll be writing your article myself.”

  “Ah okay, cool,” I say, suddenly a little bit nervous. From now on, everything he sees me do could possibly go in the article about me. So I need to be on my best behavior.

  I lead him into Jace’s office, which is the only quiet area of the building so that we can talk. He tells me that the photographer will be here in a little bit and that all of the photoshoot stuff will be up to that guy.

  Becca brings us coffee, which was totally on her because I didn’t even think of that, and Ricky looks impressed at the gesture. “Call me if you need anything, Mrs. Adams,” Becca says, smiling in this way that only I, as her best friend, would understand. She’s pretending to be some kind of perfect assistant in order to make me look even more professional and awesome in front of this writer. I keep my composure, but inside I’m grinning like a dork. This is fun.

  Ricky takes out a notebook and a handheld recorder. “Do you mind if I record this?” he asks, but something tells me I don’t really have a choice.

  “Not at all,” I say, mentally telling myself not to say anything stupid.

  “Great,” he says, placing the recorder on Jace’s desk right between us. “So, Mrs. Adams, let’s begin.”

  “You can just call me Bayleigh,” I say. Although I’m almost twenty-one and it’s fun to have Jace’s last name, sometimes being called Mrs. Adams just makes me feel old. Like a teacher, or the old lady who lives next door or something.

  Ricky nods and marks something on this notebook. “So, Bayleigh, you’re married to a former professional motocross racer who is now the owner of an incredibly successful company. How much pressure do you feel to maintain your trophy wife status?”

  I’m silent for a minute. Surely he’s just joking right? When he lifts his eyebrows, anxiously awaiting a reply, I laugh. “Um, I’m not a trophy wife,” I say. “So I guess to answer your question, I don’t feel any pressure? Because I’m not a trophy wife.”

  “Hmm,” he says, scribbling on his notebook. “What makes you say that? You’re a beautiful young woman who is married to a professional racer—”

  “He’s not a professional racer anymore,” I say, interrupting him. “He hasn’t been since the day I met him. We fell in love as normal people, not as a famous guy who was looking for a trophy.” Now that I’m talking, I find it impossible to stop. I need this nerdy writer guy to understand that I’m not some stupid girl trying to be famous on the arm of her famous husband. “He chose a boring life with me over pursuing fame again, and that’s really all there is to it. Our marriage wasn’t part of a master plan.”

  “Well said,” Ricky says, writing something in his notebook again. He smiles and it seems like he has a new kind of respect for me. I guess maybe he was expecting me to play the part of “dumb trophy wife” or something. I sit a little straighter.

  “Okay next question,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “Tell me about the daily life of a woman running a business with her husband.”

  *

  After what started out as a weird interview, my talk with Ricky wasn’t all that bad. He never brought up the whole teen pregnancy thing and I was grateful for that. When we’re done, I’m confident that his article can’t say anything too bad or scandalous about my life, and that’s a good thing.

  The photographer
arrives and this time Mark is with him. I check on Jett, who is happy and playing with Deja, and then we head into the gym for the photoshoot. Mark’s photographer is almost a clone of him, all muscular and beefy and fake-tanned. His name is Ace and he looks like he belongs in a motorcycle club instead of behind the lens of an expensive camera. They also have a fashion expert with them, a pixie of a woman with bright pink hair and a ton of eye shadow.

  She makes me wear a pair of extra short cutoff jeans. The kind that are so short, the bottoms of the pockets hang out the front. Then I wear a bright pink tank top that she pulls up and ties in a knot in the back. I’m really glad I’ve been working on my abs because they’re on full display.

  I’m photographed straddling one of Jace’s dirt bikes, sitting on weight benches, and sitting on top of the front counter. They wouldn’t let me just stand behind it, I had to be on top. The whole thing is provocative and sexy and I’m not sure if it’s cool or kind of terrifying. I’m not exactly the type to pose all sexy for a magazine. I mean, sure I’ve gotten in shape lately and I’m proud of my body. But, that doesn’t stop me from feeling silly as I pose with my cleavage on full display.

  Jace is so busy all day, he never has time to stop by while the photographer is here and I’m kind of grateful for it. I’m not sure what he’d say about the whole thing. But eventually it’s over, and Mark and his crew go home, promising to email me some of their favorite photos later on.

  Deja, Becca, and I take Jett out to dinner once we close the front office for the day. They want to know all about my experience with the interview and photo shoot and we gossip about it until nine at night when Jace calls me.

  “Hey babe,” I say, answering the phone.

  “Have you checked the track’s email account?” he says, his voice sounding a little amused.