by Gina Wilkins
Something about the way he said that piqued her pride. “I’m not worried about spending time with you. I’m perfectly comfortable being around you.”
“Yeah,” Wade muttered. “Me, too.”
Jake looked from one of them to the other. “So y’all were really engaged, huh?”
“We were very young then,” Lisa said, stabbing a bit too forcefully into her food.
“Naive,” Wade added.
She flicked him a glance. “Impressionable.”
“Gullible.”
Jake’s mouth twitched with a smile. “I see. I’m glad you both got over it.”
“Completely,” Lisa assured him.
“Absolutely,” Wade seconded.
“Okay. So, Lisa, tell me more stories about prosecuting in the big city.”
Because it was much easier to talk about her job than her long-ago engagement, she shared a few anecdotes about some of her more interesting cases while they finished their meal. Jake asked a lot of questions and seemed very interested in her answers, though she didn’t know if he really was or if he was simply being polite.
Wade said little, but she knew he listened to every word she said. Maybe he was thinking about how different things would be—for both of them—if she had never left.
She couldn’t say she’d never thought along those lines, herself, on occasion. But she could say she had made the right decision, no matter how painful it had been.
THE PENNSYLVANIA RACETRACK was arguably located in the most romantic of all the NASCAR venues. Famed as a honeymoon setting, the Pocono Mountains provided breathtaking scenery and plenty of intimate destinations. None of which had anything to do with her and Wade, of course, Lisa assured herself as they drove through the tunnel beneath the infamous Turn Two and onto the infield of the track.
Back when she and Wade had been an item, he had stayed in motel rooms during the racing season. Now he spent race weekends in his own luxury motor home parked in the infield of the track. He told her that owning a motor home had become quite common for drivers and owners, but most of the crew chiefs still stayed in nearby motels, as did most of the other racing employees who were only in town for a weekend and were then off to the next venue.
To save time, a driver who worked solely for Wade moved the motor home from one track to the next, allowing Wade to fly into the area on Thursday and have his home-away-from-home waiting for him, fully stocked and ready for him to occupy. He said it gave him a sanctuary during the few free minutes he could grab and the comfort of having his own things around him, set up exactly the way he liked them.
Lisa knew Jake and the other drivers on her father’s team also had their own custom motor coaches, though as far as she was aware none of the other crew chiefs had found it worthwhile to make that significant financial investment. Her dad preferred hotel suites for himself, away from the noise and bustle of the track crowds. He reserved his regular suites a year in advance, with car and driver ready at a moment’s notice to take him to the tracks.
Having never seen Wade’s motor home, she was rather startled when he escorted her inside Thursday afternoon. Some forty-feet long, with hydraulically operated sliders on both sides that pushed out to almost double the living space, the coach was as comfortable and as beautifully decorated as any full-time apartment. Much nicer than the little one-bedroom place he had rented back when they’d dated, while he was still working his way up through the Woodrow Racing organization.
Like the sleek, racy outside, the color scheme inside was also gray and deep purple. It matched Jake’s Number 82 car, which was painted in a splashy purple and silver combination, embellished with the swirling logo of his primary sponsor, Vaughan Tools. That same purple was visible here, in upholstery and draperies, accented by grays ranging from pearl to charcoal. Chrome and neon, large-screen plasma TVs and built-in stereo systems, top of the line appliances and deep, indulgent cushions. Not exactly subtle and hardly what she would have predicted from Wade.
“Interesting,” she murmured, looking around. “Not what I expected.”
Wade’s smile was crooked, a little sheepish. “There were all these choices to make—gave me a headache. I finally asked the saleswoman to handle the details for me.”
“She chose the best of everything, apparently.”
He shrugged. “Well, she did go all out. I gave her a price limit and she took it from there. Considering that I spend at least thirty-six weekends a year in this bus, it was well worth the investment. Since I’m single and not home much, I’ve kept my house in North Carolina pretty modest, not like the mansions most of the owners and drivers maintain, so this feels more like my real home sometimes.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “You certainly don’t have to justify your indulgences to me.”
“I’m not.” And then he made a face. “Well, maybe I am, a little. I mean, you’re used to this kind of lifestyle, considering your background, but my roots are strictly blue-collar. It still sort of blows my mind that I can afford things like this now, as long as I keep a pretty close eye on my budget.”
She couldn’t help laughing. “If you could see my apartment in Chicago, you’d realize that I know all about living within a budget. Prosecutors hardly get rich, you know. I live on my own salary, not on my father’s money. This place looks downright luxurious to me.”
What might have been a glimmer of respect flickered through his brown eyes. “Make yourself at home here. Consider yourself on vacation.”
She looked around at the comfortable surroundings again. “I guess I haven’t stopped to think about exactly how much I’m putting you out this weekend. I’m sorry, Wade, I should have gone somewhere else. You need to concentrate and you deserve to stay in your own—”
“Lees,” he interrupted firmly, stopping her mid-word. “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I minded. After hearing about your ordeal, there’s no way I could have concentrated on the race without knowing for sure that you were safe. I’ll be fine bunking with Jake. It’s a way of keeping him out of trouble this weekend.”
“You should at least get to sleep on your own bed. I could always take the couch. I bet it folds out into a bed.”
“It does.” But then he shook his head. “I’ll stay with Jake. All in all, I think that’s best.”
Because it didn’t look right for them to share a motor home, as her father had said? Or was there another reason he didn’t want to be in such close quarters with her this weekend?
Deciding she’d better not think about that right now, she moistened her suddenly dry lips. “You’re being very generous, Wade. Thank you.”
His expression was suddenly closed to her. “I’d do the same for any of my friends.”
He considered her a friend? Interesting. She couldn’t say her feelings for him were quite so simple.
He took a step backward from her. “Your bags have been placed in the bedroom. I had a couple of drawers emptied out for you, so feel free to unpack. Let me show you a few things here in the coach and then I should head over to the garage. If you need to reach me for any reason, you can call me on my cell.”
She followed dutifully while he demonstrated touch pad remote controls and pop-up plasma TV screens, showed her hidden panels in the galley and bathroom and the electric shades on every window. She’d never been in one of these things, since her father disliked them. She was amazed by how many amenities had been incorporated. There was even a ceiling fan in the bedroom, built into a lighted ceiling recess.
Wade was right, of course, she thought after he left her. She had grown up with money and luxuries. Though she had been honest about living on her salary for the past few years, staying on a budget and counting her pennies at times, she had always had the security of knowing she had the trust fund her father had set up for her to fall back on if necessary.
Wade’s background was much less privileged. He had told her his family had been a dysfunctional one. His flighty and unreliable parents had pretty much neglec
ted their two sons, who’d both struck out on their own as soon as they were legally of age. Lisa’s home life might not have been exactly what she would have chosen, with her workaholic father and happy homemaker mother, but at least she had never doubted that her parents loved her. Well, with her father, almost never. Wade hadn’t been blessed with that comfort.
He didn’t see his parents much now, or at least, not the last she’d heard, nor was he close to his brother. His life was racing, not family—a realization that she should have come to much sooner than she actually had. She blamed her youth and foolishly romantic daydreams for keeping her blind to the facts for so long.
She would have to be very careful over the next few days not to fool herself into thinking that anything had changed.
EVEN THOUGH WADE’S motor home in this restricted parking lot was surrounded by those of other drivers and owners—some of their families she could hear socializing outside despite the impressive soundproofing—Lisa stayed inside Thursday. She spent the afternoon catching up on a stack of paperwork she’d brought with her, setting up her laptop computer and handling her e-mail that had piled up.
She might be on a leave of absence, but work was never far away from her mind. The irony of that didn’t escape her. It had been Wade’s obsession with his job that had broken them up, but now she was as much of a workaholic as he’d ever been.
It was equally ironic that she was now trapped in what amounted to his home while he concentrated on his duties, probably having forgotten that she was even here. This was exactly what she had been afraid of when she’d left him, she thought with a wry shake of her head. And this time, she’d deliberately put herself here. But at least she had work of her own to concentrate on.
She pulled her computer in front of her again, grateful that she had something more important to do than to cook Wade’s dinner and wait impatiently for him to appear in the doorway.
As it happened, she was so deeply immersed in work that she didn’t even hear him when he tapped on the door early that evening. It took a buzz from the intercom system to rouse her. As he had instructed, she checked the monitor before she opened the door.
He nodded his approval of her caution. “Were you asleep?”
“No. I was working. How were things in the garage?”
“Looking good so far. Everything arrived in one piece.”
“That’s always good.”
Chit-chat out of the way, Wade got to the point. “Some of us are going out to dinner. Want to come?”
She almost declined. She knew the motor home had been stocked with food and she could easily prepare a quick meal for herself. But then she figured she might as well go. After all, this was her chance to get an inside look at the world of racing that so consumed her father and former fiancé.
“Sure,” she said, moving out of the doorway. “Do I have time to freshen up first?”
Following her into the living area, he glanced curiously at the laptop and files stacked on the small built-in dining table and nodded. “We’ve got about twenty minutes before we’re supposed to meet Jake and the others.”
“That’s more than enough time,” she assured him, heading for the bedroom. “I’ll be right back.”
IN ADDITION TO LISA, Wade and Jake, the diners included another Woodrow Racing driver, Ronnie Short, and his wife, Katie, and Ronnie’s crew chief, Joe “Digger” Barkley. It was a genial, casual crowd and Lisa could tell immediately that they were all friends as well as teammates. She also knew that friendship didn’t keep them from being fierce competitors on the racetrack.
Lisa had met everyone at some point during the past few years, except for Katie Short, who she met for the first time tonight. A pudgy, pleasant-faced redhead, Katie was the type whose smile could light up a room and whose laughter could only be described as infectious. Lisa liked her immediately.
The restaurant specialized in steak and ribs, and this group was populated by carnivores who took advantage of the menu, Lisa noted wryly. She ordered grilled chicken with grilled vegetables on the side.
Talk around the table centered on work, of course, with the men focusing on qualifying the next day. From what Lisa understood, Wade was worried about engine failures for the upcoming race, while Digger seemed more concerned about wrecks on Turn Two. She’d figured out that crew chiefs were always worried about something; they were paid well to worry—which probably explained why neither of the drivers looked overly perturbed.
Ronnie talked about the other drivers, especially one rookie who’d been causing him problems during the season. “I swear, the guy’s a menace on the track,” he growled, his deeply tanned face creased with a scowl. “He never should have been moved up. He gets in my way Sunday, he and I are going to be having a little talk afterward.”
His wife shook her head, then turned to Lisa. “Men,” she muttered. “I swear, they just aren’t much different at this age than the five year olds I teach in kindergarten.”
Lisa chuckled. “You are pretty much surrounded by testosterone on a daily basis,” she said, keeping her voice low so their conversation remained between the girls. “How do you stay sane?”
“Who says I do?” Katie retorted. “After two years of marriage to a racer, I’m starting to get a little peculiar myself.”
Apparently, the men had been paying more attention than Lisa thought.
“See what you missed, Lisa?” Digger asked with his usual lack of tact. “If you’d married Ice here, like you were going to, you’d be as crazy as the rest of us by now. Now here you are back to try it again.”
CHAPTER FOUR
AN AWKWARD SILENCE FOLLOWED Digger’s heavy-handed jest. Lisa noted the sharp look Wade shot at his business associate. He was obviously as embarrassed as she was by the joking reference to their former relationship.
“You and Wade were engaged?” Katie blurted in surprise. “I’d heard you once dated but I didn’t know you were engaged.”
“It was a long time ago,” Lisa explained, trying to keep her expression pleasant and unruffled. She was actually surprised that Katie hadn’t heard that tidbit through the gossip that seemed to spread like wildfire through any group of associates. “We were very young.”
“Lisa realized she had dreams of her own she wanted to pursue,” Wade added.
Lisa felt her left eyebrow rise a fraction of an inch. Wade sounded as if he understood better than she realized why she’d felt the need to leave. He didn’t seem to be just parroting the excuse she had used.
She had often wondered if he was as relieved as she was that they hadn’t gone through with the wedding. Was he really being as supportive as he sounded or was he just glad she’d found a way out that had saved face for both of them?
“So now you’re dating each other again?” Ronnie asked, looking confused.
Lisa and Wade exchanged a quick look, then Wade said, “We’re still friends. Lisa’s been so busy with her career that she hasn’t had much chance to hang around the track over the past few years. She’s on a well-deserved vacation now, so I offered to let her hang with me behind the scenes, so to speak.”
“My father never encouraged me to visit the tracks,” Lisa added. “He liked keeping his home life completely separate from the racing world.”
“Some men are like that,” Katie said with a nod. “Either they want their families around every minute, or not at all.”
“Most of the drivers who don’t want them around have a reason,” Digger muttered. “They don’t want to get caught chasing the women—not that your daddy ever did that,” he added quickly to Lisa. “Everyone knows Woody ain’t one for fooling around. Racing, that’s his passion.”
While Wade, Jake and Ronnie rolled their eyes in response to Digger’s usual lack of tact, Lisa only smiled. She had never suspected her father of being unfaithful to her mother. Partly because he loved the wife he kept sheltered and pampered at home, but also because of what Digger had said. Her dad’s passion was channeled into busines
s, not romance. Given a choice between a buxom beauty queen and a shiny new trophy to display in his lavish office, Woody wouldn’t give the lady a second glance.
Lisa had always thought Wade would make the same sort of husband. Faithful, but constantly distracted, nevertheless. Any woman who eventually landed him would have to have a very satisfying life of her own to keep from feeling ignored and neglected. But why was she letting herself think about that again now?
Katie made a joking comment about traveling close to Ronnie to keep him on the straight and narrow when it came to the women who hung around the tracks. Ronnie assured her that he was much too frightened of her temper to take any foolish risks. Especially, he added with a proud grin, since pregnant women were known to be particularly vicious.
Lisa hadn’t been aware that Katie was pregnant, which led to a new discussion about the baby that was due in just over five months. It was obvious that both soon-to-be parents were thrilled and impatient. Wade and Jake seemed bemused by the whole thing.
Digger, twice divorced and with three nearly grown offspring of his own, was the old hand with plenty of advice to dispense about child raising—which he proceeded to do right then. Ronnie laughed and reminded Digger that his job was to supervise Ronnie’s racing, not his parenting.
Relieved that the conversation had moved away from her history with Wade, Lisa quietly finished her dinner.
They were almost finished with dessert when a young boy, perhaps twelve, approached the table with an expression that combined excitement and anxiety. He held a white paper napkin and a pen in his hand, and he looked prepared to run at a moment’s notice. “Excuse me, Mr. Hinson?” he said to Jake in a voice that quivered just a little.
No one at the table seemed surprised by the interruption. Jake smiled warmly at the boy. “What can I do for you?”
The boy held out the napkin. “Would you mind signing an autograph? And you, too, Mr. Short. I like watching you race, too.”