by Gina Wilkins
“WHAT DID YOU GET my dad for his birthday?” Tanya asked curiously as she and Kent danced a short time later.
Kent lifted an eyebrow. “You’ll find out when he opens it, won’t you?”
“Oh, he won’t open the gifts tonight,” she said with a wry shake of her head. “Mother thinks it’s ‘tacky’ to open gifts in front of people. She said it turns it into a competition to see who gave the nicest present when everyone else is checking out what you brought. Dad will take everything home and open it in private, then write lovely thank-you notes to everyone individually.”
Because this was the first birthday gathering Kent had attended with Tanya that included guests who weren’t immediate family, he looked a bit surprised. “Really? The Grossos just rip into the stuff and comment on everything they open.”
“I know. I’ve been to some of your family birthday parties, remember?” she reminded him with a laugh. The Grossos made a much bigger deal out of birthdays than her own family did. To the Wells family, it was just another day in the year.
When Tanya’s mother marked a birthday with a big party, it was to serve a purpose, as was this event tonight. Some highly influential political types had been invited to celebrate Douglas’s fifty-fifth. And Tanya’s mom just happened to be involved with a new, influential charity fundraiser, for which she would skillfully hit them all up before the night was over.
She glanced at her mother, who was dancing with a congressman, chatting airily and keeping the older man visibly entertained with whatever she was saying. Her mother was so very good at that. Before the dance had ended, the congressman would probably have agreed to make a sizeable donation to the fundraiser. Later, he would wonder how he’d gotten roped into doing so, but for now, he was simply enchanted.
“She’s a born hostess,” Kent commented, following her glance.
“Mm. I’m afraid I didn’t inherit that skill. I will never be able to work a room the way my mother does. As for asking for donations for all her charities—I have a much harder time doing that, too. For some reason, people can never say no to her. Me—not so much.”
He chuckled. “I know the feeling. That’s why it’s always been easier for me to write a check, myself, than to ask other people to do so.”
He hesitated a moment, then added, “I still get the feeling your mother doesn’t really approve of me. Whether it’s because of my job, or something more personal, there’s always something in her eyes when she looks at me that makes me think she wishes I’d go away.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d implied that her mother didn’t like him, but Tanya had never understood why he was getting that impression. Her mother was always unfailingly gracious to Kent, inviting him to all the family gatherings during the past year, making sure he was included in conversations, asking about him when he wasn’t around. “I’m sure you’re reading her wrong. It’s a little hard to tell what she’s thinking sometimes, but she seems to like you well enough.”
“She would probably rather see you dating a doctor or a lawyer or a politician than a race car driver.”
Tanya shrugged. “She just wants me to be happy.”
“Maybe she isn’t sure you can be happy with me,” he murmured, searching her face.
“I’m sure she knows that I’m the only one who can decide that,” she answered lightly, looking back at her mother to avoid Kent’s gaze for a moment.
He didn’t say anything else as the dance ended. She was glad to have an excuse to move with Kent to a gregarious group of family friends and join another conversation. If there was one thing she didn’t want to think about tonight, it was her future with Kent.
CHAPTER TEN
“YOU NEVER TOLD ME WHAT you got my dad for his birthday,” Tanya commented as Kent drove her to her apartment after the party. It had been so tensely quiet in the car that she’d felt the need to fill the silence with small talk. This seemed like a safe-enough topic.
Kent made a face. “I had a hell of a time deciding what to get,” he admitted. “Your dad is so different from mine, so I wasn’t sure what he’d like.”
“So what did you decide on?”
“I set him up—and your brothers, if they want to join him—for a VIP driving-school experience. All of them will get to drive a race car on the track, as fast as they want to go. They’ll have intensive instruction beforehand, and they’ll be fitted with top-of-the-line safety equipment, so it should be a fun experience, no more dangerous than sky-diving, which I know your dad has done a couple of times. I don’t know if he’ll care anything at all about this, but he did mention once that he thought it would be interesting to drive a race car.”
“You know, I think he’ll really like that,” Tanya said with a smile. “It isn’t something I would have thought of, myself, but now that you mention it, it does sound like something he would like. And my brothers will love it, especially Trevor. That was a very clever idea, Kent.”
He shrugged. “Racing is pretty much all I know,” he murmured. “It wasn’t much of a stretch for me to look within the sport for a gift.”
“You sell yourself short,” she argued. “You’re hardly that limited.”
He was quiet for a moment, then he shrugged again. “I always leave your family affairs feeling a little self-conscious. I don’t know why.”
“Neither do I. It isn’t as if you spend all your time in a garage or at a track. You attend plenty of social functions as part of the promotional aspect of your job. You have hobbies and interests, you like books and films, you have a college…degree.”
She’d hoped he hadn’t noticed the slight stumble in her voice. She hadn’t even been thinking about his past when she’d blurted out the words, nor would she deliberately have brought it up now.
She should have known Kent would catch her. “Yeah, I have a degree. It might not be from State U, but NCCT is a good school, and I made good grades there. On my own, I might add.”
“I’ve never put down your alma mater,” she reminded him flatly. “I was simply pointing out that there’s more to you than your job.”
“There’s more to me than the mistake I made at State U, too,” he shot back, turning off his car in the parking lot of her complex. “I moved past it. So should you.”
“Darn it, Kent, why can’t you understand that it wasn’t what you did so long ago that bothers me? It’s the way you’ve handled it since. Lying. Covering up. Living in fear of the truth coming out. Whether you’ll admit it or not, it has obviously haunted you, and now it’s something I have to deal with, as well. The only way to put the whole issue to rest is to get it out in the open so that no one has anything else to hold over you.”
And then, she thought, they were going to have to figure out why he hadn’t felt free to share something so personal and so painful with her, the woman he had claimed to love. Why he still grew defensive and self-protective every time the subject came up between them.
“I told you I was going to tell my parents about it. But, damn it, Tanya, this is my life. My call.”
“Your business,” she interpreted, her shoulders hunching a little. “You’re absolutely correct. I have no right to try to tell you what to do. And certainly not to make ultimatums. It’s up to you whether you want to tell anyone or not.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then don’t,” she answered tightly. “This isn’t an ultimatum. I don’t give ultimatums. I just thought it would be best for you—for both of us. Maybe I was wrong.”
“Maybe. And maybe you’re right. I just don’t know any more,” he muttered.
“I can’t believe we’re still quarreling about this.” She looked unhappily out the window of his car. “Every time I think we have it all settled, it crops back up.”
“I know.” He flexed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Something changed between us the day I told you about this. I just wish I knew what it was.”
“So do I,” she whispered.
“I love you, Tanya.
”
“I love you, too.” She had no doubt about that. But she also knew that love wasn’t always enough. She had seen too many couples fail to stay together despite the emotions that had made them want so badly to try.
“We can work this out. I’ll tell my parents everything. No more hiding.”
She only looked at him, knowing that he was as aware as she was that telling his parents would solve very little if they couldn’t figure out what else was wrong.
“Let’s go upstairs,” he said, reaching out to touch her cheek. “We’ll talk some more. Figure this out.”
She placed her hand over his. “I’d like to try.”
“So would I. We can—”
His cell phone shrilled. Tempted to ignore it, he sighed and glanced at the ID screen, instead. He winced when he saw who was calling. “It’s Tobey. He wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.”
She nodded. “You’d better answer it.”
A couple of terse moments later, he closed the phone again. Just from overhearing the few words he’d said into it, she knew what he was going to say. “You have to go.”
“I’m sorry. Neil’s in trouble.”
“Then go. Take care of your team.”
“Tanya—”
Softening, she laid a hand on his arm. “I understand. You have a race this weekend. You have to make sure the team is ready. This talk between us can wait. I’m not going anywhere.”
He wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, his eyes holding hers. “We’re going to work this out,” he said firmly.
Instead of answering, she leaned over to kiss him. “Go take care of Neil. Call and let me know what’s going on, okay? I’ll be worried.”
“I’ll call you.”
She didn’t let him take the time to walk her up. She climbed out of the car and watched him drive away. She wanted desperately to believe that they would solve the problems between them. But first, she thought, they had to identify exactly what those problems were.
TOBEY MET KENT in the parking lot of the Maximus Motor Sports headquarters. “He’s in his office,” he said, his face creased with a worried frown. “I don’t know what to do with him.”
Walking and talking, Kent said, “Tell me what’s going on.”
Tobey had to hurry to keep up. “He’s drunk again. And this time he’s scaring me.”
“What do you mean? Neil’s got a hot temper, but he’s never been a real threat to anyone.”
“Not even to himself?” Tobey asked grimly.
Kent didn’t like the sound of that. “I’ll talk to him.”
“If he’ll let you. He’s got his office door locked.”
“He’ll talk to me—even if I have to kick the door in.”
Approaching Neil’s door, he said over his shoulder to the young assistant, “Thanks for calling me, Tobey, but make yourself scarce now, okay? I can handle it from here.”
Tobey looked a bit hesitant, but he was well-trained. He nodded grimly and turned on one heel, leaving Kent standing alone outside the door to Neil’s office.
No sound came from the other side of the door. For once, Neil wasn’t yelling or blustering. Kent rapped on the glossy wood. “Neil? Hey, it’s Kent. Can I come in?”
There was no answer, which made Kent’s stomach muscles tighten. “Neil? You okay? Come on, man, answer me.”
He heard a mumble that might have been, “Go away.”
Relieved to at least have heard something, Kent knocked again. “You’re going to have to let me in, Neil. I can always find the master key, you know.”
He honestly didn’t know if such a thing even existed, but he was taking the gamble that Neil didn’t know, either.
After a long moment during which he was beginning to wonder if the crew chief was calling his bluff, the doorknob turned.
Neil weaved on his feet, his usually slicked-back hair disheveled, his eyes red and runny. He smelled strong enough that Kent almost flinched, restraining himself just in time. “What?”
“We’ve got to talk, buddy,” Kent replied gently, pushing past Neil without waiting for an invitation.
“Yeah, well, I’m not feeling too good tonight. Let’s talk tomorrow, ’kay?”
“No. It has to be tonight.” Pushing a hand through his hair, Kent wondered wearily why every relationship in his life was suddenly coming down to facing a major confrontation. He had to talk to Tanya, to his parents, and now to Neil. If things kept going this way, he was going to be spending more time having emotional heart-to-hearts than driving, he thought grouchily.
Neil kept a coffeemaker in his office. The red light was on, and the carafe was half full.
Kent filled one of the mugs that sat on the cabinet next to the coffeemaker and carried it over to Neil, who still stood unsteadily just inside the door. “Sit down somewhere and drink this.”
Neil made a face. “That’s been sitting there for hours. Probably tastes like old motor oil by now.”
“Good. Then it should be strong enough to sober you up. Drink it, Neil.”
Though it looked for a moment as if Neil was going to refuse, he finally took the mug and sank into a chair. He shuddered when he took a sip. “Damn, that’s bad.”
“It couldn’t taste any worse than that cheap booze you’ve been pouring down your throat,” Kent said without sympathy, nodding toward the bottle on Neil’s cluttered desk.
“Yeah, well, that serves its purpose.”
“So does the coffee.” Pulling a straight-backed chair in front of Neil, Kent straddled it backward and crossed his arms on top of the seat back. He watched Neil take a few more sips and then said, “What are we going to do, Neil?”
Looking into his mug, Neil muttered, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, you do. You’re out of control, pal. The drinking, the tantrums, the distractions. We can’t keep doing this.”
Scowling, Neil looked up then. “You won your qualifying race, didn’t you? Came in second in Daytona. You got any complaints about the car?”
“The car was close to perfect. You were on top of your game last weekend. That doesn’t change the fact that things aren’t going well otherwise. Nor does it guarantee that everything won’t fall apart in California this weekend.”
“I’ll do my job.”
“Maybe you’ll try,” Kent conceded. “But until you get a handle on your personal problems, there’s no way to know if it’s going to affect your work during the race.”
Starting to look characteristically angry, Neil muttered, “I’m getting real tired of you questioning me lately. Like you don’t trust me. I ain’t the only one of this team that likes to have a drink every now and then.”
“No. I like an occasional drink, myself. But not here, at the office. And not on company time.”
“I do my job,” Neil repeated.
“You used to do it better,” Kent said bluntly. “Everyone’s talking, Neil.”
“I don’t care what anyone says. Especially that punk, Justin Murphy.”
“I don’t care what Murphy says, either. But I do care what the team says. What our sponsors are saying. What the media is whispering. And Dawson cares, too. A great deal.”
What might have been anxiety crossed Neil’s face then. “What’s Dawson said to you?”
“Not much. Yet. But I can tell he’s concerned. He likes you, Neil. He has trusted you implicitly with running this team—up until recently. Now he’s getting worried. He’s got a lot of money invested in us, you know? He’s got to keep the sponsors happy, the fans confident, the team placated. He’s got to sign up new sponsors. You know how many millions of dollars it takes to stay competitive on a top level.”
“I know how the business works.”
“I thought maybe you needed reminding.”
Neil set the mostly emptied cup aside. “I don’t need a lecture.”
“Yeah. So what do you need? As your friend, what can I do for you to help you get past whatever is ea
ting you lately?”
Looking suddenly exhausted, Neil pushed unsteady fingers through his gelled hair. “Just leave me alone. I’ll give you what you need on the track. You give me space off of it.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to do,” Kent replied sadly. “It doesn’t seem to be working. I’m worried about you. As your friend. And as your coworker. And I’m telling you right now that if you don’t find some way to get past this, Dawson’s going to let you go. And I’m afraid I’m going to have to side with him if he makes that call.”
Neil stiffened. “Is that a threat?”
“That’s just a fact.”
Anger sparked in Neil’s dark eyes. “This team would fall apart without me. You think you’d have won that championship last year if it hadn’t been for me?”
“I give you a lot of credit,” Kent said, trying to keep his own ego in check. “But that doesn’t mean we’d fall apart without you. Everyone on this team is expendable. You. Me. There’s a hundred—hell, a thousand—guys out there waiting to take our places, and they’re good. Younger. Smarter. Faster, maybe. You and me, we’ve got to stick together to make sure they don’t get the chance to prove it.”
He wasn’t sure the blarney was working. Neil certainly didn’t look particularly softened. “I’ll do my job,” he said again.
Feeling a new, invisible wall between them, Kent found himself suddenly saddened. “Yeah, do that,” he said, pushing himself to his feet. “Just keep in mind some of the things I said, will you?”
Neil shrugged, not bothering to stand as Kent moved toward the door. “Tell Tobey to quit calling you about me or I’m firing his butt. And next time, you ain’t talking me into hiring him again.”
“I’ll tell him. To be honest, I’m tired of him calling me about you, too. Next time, Neil, you’re on your own.”
He shut the door behind him with a forceful slam, not even wanting to know if Neil reached for the coffeepot or the liquor bottle as soon as Kent was out of sight.
Maybe he’d thought he and Neil would be his team forever. But maybe he’d been wrong. He could almost see the end in sight for their partnership.