The Comeback

by Abby Gaines

  He knew how she felt. He’d really thought he might make a top-five finish today. To have the race end the way so many others had…

  “I’ll call Getaway, prepare them for more bad press,” she said. “Then I’ll get to work on setting up your next media appearance. For which we’ll spend a lot more time preparing.”

  The urge to touch her vanished. Zack shoved his hands in his pockets. “I need to spend a lot more time preparing for my next race.”

  Whatever sympathy he’d imagined she might have had for him before the race was gone. She gave a little hiss. “You promised to cooperate.”

  They’d reached the motor home lot. Zack decided to end this conversation now. He stopped at the gate and indicated to the security guard that Gaby wasn’t coming in.

  “I will cooperate.” He ignored the angry quiver of her chin and said calmly, “Whenever I can.”

  He slipped past the security guard and lifted his hand in farewell. Gaby glared at him, obviously not wanting to fight in front of the guard. Fine by him. Zack had to do his job, and if that meant she couldn’t do hers, that was too bad. He walked away without looking back.

  SANDRA TANEY’S HAND RESTED on her swollen belly, and she smiled.

  “Junior kicking again?” Gaby handed her boss a soda from the well-stocked fridge on the Taney Motorsports airplane, and sat down opposite her. Next to Gaby, her colleague Kylie Treadway sipped a cola. Anita Latimer and Leah Gibbs, the other Motor Media Group representatives flying to the track in Indianapolis this weekend, were sticking with water.

  “Never stops,” Sandra said proudly. “I’ve warned Gideon his son is going to play pro football, not basketball.”

  As Gaby refastened her seat belt she laughed, as much out of relief as out of amusement—any delay to the inevitable discussion of her client situation was welcome.

  “I’m sure Taney can handle it.” Gaby popped the top on her soda can. Sandra’s husband Gideon Taney, owner of Taney Motorsports, had been a talented basketball player in his youth, but he’d chosen to start his own sporting goods business rather than turn pro.

  Sandra’s smile turned dreamy as she craned to see her husband, who was watching a recording of the last race at Indianapolis in the TV area at the back of the plane. “He can handle anything.”

  For a woman with a reputation as one of the hardest-hitting PR operatives in NASCAR, Sandra was a pile of mush when it came to her husband. And six-foot-four Taney, as everyone but Sandra called him, had it just as bad for his wife. Gaby had never seen a couple who adored each other so much. She’d assumed two such strong-willed individuals would clash beyond survival. But while Sandra and Taney had “discussions” that bordered on explosive, their love always shone through. They seemed to thrive on the sparks.

  That’s what I want. A man who would respect Gaby’s goals and desires the way Taney respected Sandra’s. She would never again let a man convince her that love meant sacrificing her goals for his.

  “Let’s get down to business,” Sandra said, all dreaminess evaporating. Her gaze scanned the group, resting longer on Gaby than it did on the other women.

  Uh-oh.

  “I’m sorry we had to wait this long for our staff meeting,” Sandra continued, “but Will’s supposed health scare has kept me flat out.” Earlier this week, medical tests suggesting that Will Branch, Taney Motorsports’ NASCAR Sprint Cup Series driver, had mononucleosis—which would demand a break from racing—had been leaked by a clinic administrator. Gaby guessed Sandra couldn’t have slept much the past few days, in her quest for the source of the leak and the evidence needed to prove to the world that the mono test was someone else’s, and Will was perfectly healthy.

  “You did an incredible job, Sandra,” Kylie said. Kylie had been Will’s rep until Sandra and Taney had realized they could spend more time together if Sandra represented Will.

  Gaby wished she’d been first with the compliment. Not that Sandra liked people kissing up—but she definitely liked people showing leadership.

  Especially now, when she was looking for someone to run Motor Media Group after she had her baby. She would still attend races as Taney’s wife, and knowing Sandra she wouldn’t be able to resist phoning in to the company she’d founded. But the day-to-day operations would be in the hands of someone at the office.

  Gaby planned to be that someone.

  So did Kylie and Anita.

  Sandra had made her reservations about Gaby clear when she’d agreed to consider her for the job along with her peers. Volunteering to rep Zack had been the best way for Gaby to prove her account management skills.

  Gaby swallowed hard and wondered if there was any chance her boss hadn’t seen the headlines this week.

  “Anita, let’s start with you,” Sandra said.

  Anita talked through the work she was doing for Bart Branch, Will’s twin brother and “her” driver. She’d achieved some excellent press coverage this week. She’d also managed to interest a NASCAR Nationwide Series team in hiring Motor Media Group.

  “Great job, I’m seriously impressed.” Sandra liked winning new business. She also believed in giving credit where it was due, one reason why working for her was so rewarding. “Kylie?”

  Kylie managed Danny Cruise. They all knew Danny could be reticent with the press, which made Kylie’s eight-page profile in a lifestyle magazine even more special. Sandra nodded her approval.

  “Gaby,” she said, her voice noticeably cooler.

  Gaby darted a quick glance out the window. They were flying over farmland—serene, beautiful…and way too high to bail out of this conversation. “Not the best week in Zack Matheson’s career.” She tried to sound calm and in control, even though she couldn’t have had a worse grip on Zack if he’d been a shadow.

  “The understanding you told me you and your client came to at your first meeting…” Sandra opened her briefcase and pulled out the sports section of the Chicago paper. The reporter had done exactly what Gaby feared, and written a hard-hitting news story. Sandra tapped the headline with an accusing finger. “Was it an understanding that he can walk all over you?”

  There was no amusement in her tone. Sandra had a great sense of humor, but she took her work seriously.

  Gaby stiffened. “Of course not. I briefed Zack on the postrace interviews, but he chose to go his own way.”

  “Then you didn’t do a good enough job,” Sandra said. The downside of her being so quick to praise her staff was that she got tough equally fast, and she didn’t necessarily wait for a private moment. “I appointed you to manage Zack because you assured me you could keep him in line.”

  And because no one else wanted the job. Gaby knew better than to try to deflect the criticism. Aware of Kylie’s and Anita’s sympathetic glances, she said, “Zack’s not an easy client, Sandra—you’ve lost two account managers thanks to his acting out, and two others only stayed at the company on the basis they wouldn’t have to work with him. Did you expect me to have a handle on him after only a few days?”

  Sandra looked surprised to be challenged. “Perhaps not,” she conceded. “But I’d expect to see some of your influence in this article. Instead, I see a driver with a chip on his shoulder and no self-restraint.” She leaned back and rubbed her abdomen, as if the baby was kicking in protest at the bad job Gaby had done. “Rob Hudson at Getaway phoned me to express his disappointment.”

  If Gaby hadn’t known how serious it was to have a sponsor complain about her, Kylie’s indrawn breath would have filled her in.

  The plane lurched, buffeted by a sudden gust of wind, and nausea churned in Gaby’s stomach. “You know I did a good job for Trey Sanford.” Her previous client had been a dream to work with. Complications in his personal life had kept her on her toes, but Trey’s sound media instincts had made them an effective team.

  “You did, which gives me some hope. But I’d like to hear your plans for doing things differently with Zack,” Sandra said. “So would Rob.”

  “As a dr
iver, Zack has moments of sheer genius, but they’re outweighed by moments of impulsiveness,” Gaby began. Watching the footage of the past few races, she’d been mystified by Zack’s habit of suddenly blowing a strong position. It didn’t fit with the coolly controlled man she knew. “If he could cut back the impulses and play up the genius…” She trailed off. The best PR plan in the world wouldn’t help him do that. “I believe he’s the same off the track,” she continued. “We need to harness the genius, get rid of the impulse, in his media appearances.”

  “No easy task.” Sandra didn’t sound quite as mad as she had a few minutes earlier. Gaby breathed a little easier.

  “Have you thought about putting him in the Bachelor of the Year contest?” Sandra asked. “Bart’s getting a lot of publicity out of that.”

  “I suggested the contest, but he won’t do it.” Gaby realized her error as her boss frowned. “Even if he would, I couldn’t trust him not to do more harm than good to his reputation.” Great, why didn’t she just shoot herself in both feet?

  “What I’m hearing,” Sandra said, “is you’re not strong enough to convince Zack of what’s in his best interest.”

  Kylie and Anita traded knowing glances, glances that said, She won’t get the top job.

  Everyone in the company knew Gaby had turned down a promotion last year under pressure from her fiancé at the time. This time around, she’d been running from behind from the start.

  “Ladies,” Sandra said, addressing Gaby’s colleagues, “why don’t you join Taney for a while?”

  There was a flurry of activity while the other women gathered up their bags and drinks and headed to the TV nook. Taney looked surprised to see them; then he directed an understanding look at his wife.

  Gaby, alone now with her boss, tugged her seat belt tighter.

  “Gaby…” Sandra’s hesitation was uncharacteristic. “Are you seeing anyone at the moment?”

  “Seeing…you mean dating?” Gaby stared at her.

  “It’s just, you told me you would do what it took to get this promotion,” Sandra said. “You’re not delivering, which isn’t like you. I wondered if maybe you’re…distracted.”

  “Even if I was seeing someone, which I’m not, I wouldn’t let that happen again,” Gaby said. “My job is my number one priority, and I’ve learned my lesson about letting a man get in the way of that.”

  Sandra nodded.

  “Zack Matheson will do what we need him to do,” Gaby promised. “I’ll stake my reputation on it.”

  “You already did,” Sandra said.

  Something cold and serious in her blue eyes hollowed Gaby’s stomach. “One bad article won’t affect your decision about who takes over during your maternity leave, will it?” she blurted.

  “It’s not one bad article, Gaby.” Sandra leaned forward as best as her bulk would allow. “I agreed to consider you for the position because your administrative background gives you an excellent understanding of the business, and because you assured me you’ve moved on from the attitude that had you turning down that promotion last year. But I made it clear I’ll appoint someone who can run the firm the way I do. That means someone who puts the company first and doesn’t take garbage from people.”

  “I don’t—”

  “I need someone who’ll fight for my business,” Sandra said. “You’re not that person. I’m taking you off the shortlist.”

  Gaby’s lungs constricted; she couldn’t breathe. “No!” The word came out a squeak, using up the last of her air. She cupped her hands over her mouth and nose, and finally found breath.

  Sandra eyed her in alarm. Gaby dropped her hands, fought for composure.

  This promotion was her big chance to secure her future, to ease her cash-strapped elderly parents’ worries, and her own, about how she would be provided for. With her lack of a college education and her overly administrative background, no other company would even consider her for this kind of job.

  She needed to rescue this situation, right now.

  “What if I get Zack into the Bachelor of the Year contest?” she asked.

  “You just said he won’t do it.”

  “That was marshmallow-me talking.” Gaby attempted a small joke. “Sandra, I admit, I’m on a learning curve with Zack, but I’ll learn faster, I’ll make it happen.”

  “You really think you can persuade him into the contest?” Sandra asked, patently unconvinced.

  “I have to,” Gaby said. A subtle shift in the engine noise told her the aircraft had begun its descent. She didn’t want Sandra to get off this plane with the last thought on her mind being that Gaby was a no-go. Any savvy PR operative knew that last impressions were almost as important as first impressions. “And if he does—if Zack enters the contest and makes a real effort, if we can honestly say Getaway is delighted—will you put me back on the shortlist?”

  “I’d need to see quite a transformation,” Sandra said honestly. “In Zack, and in yourself.”

  “You’ll see it,” Gaby promised. “Can I get back on the shortlist?”

  Sandra glanced at Taney and the other women, then back at Gaby. “I’ll keep an open mind.”

  “Thanks, Sandra, you won’t regret it.”

  Gaby was certain of that. The prospect of her prickly client being a contender for Bachelor of the Year was mind-boggling, but she would make it happen.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ZACK HAD RACED BETTER in Indianapolis—he’d finished eleventh, a result he attributed to the fact he’d spent more time in the gym than usual and less time on his public image. Fortunately, his sponsor didn’t hear that.

  When Gaby had called him to confirm their Tuesday morning meeting, he told her he’d realized his physical fitness wasn’t up to race-winning level. He’d asked his trainer to devise a tough new program.

  “You’re okay to meet in the gym, right?” he asked.

  “Of course,” she said. After all, he needed to be in peak physical condition for the bachelor contest.

  Now, she sat on a weight bench in the Matheson Racing gym, waiting for Zack to move to a piece of equipment that involved less exertion than the rowing machine, so she could broach the bachelor contest without raising her voice. She couldn’t help noticing that Zack was already in fantastic condition. Not overbulked, his tank top revealed just the right amount of lean muscle in those strong arms and broad, perfectly proportioned shoulders. The rowing machine showed off his long legs and powerful chest.

  Through the mirror that ran along the end wall of the gym, Zack caught her looking. His eyebrows quirked. Gaby tore her gaze away and focused on the blank page of her notebook. She’d all but lost her chance at the promotion, and here she was admiring her client’s body.

  It was his mind she needed to focus on…and that was every bit as intriguing. He was smart—as she’d told Sandra, sometimes he was a genius. And yet he kept screwing up, and he was more vulnerable than he should be to the ebb and flow of family dynamics. Gaby sighed.

  “What’s the problem?” Zack asked.

  She jumped—it was the most he’d said since she’d arrived—and closed the notebook. “Just thinking about the next step in our campaign.”

  “Do you ever stop thinking about your work?” he asked.

  “Do you ever stop thinking about yours?”

  He frowned, “No, but…”

  Gaby’s eyes narrowed. “But yours is more important than mine?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Mine’s more challenging than yours,” she said with grim certainty.

  He snorted and Gaby realized she enjoyed talking so bluntly to him.

  Zack adjusted the settings on the rowing machine to a higher level. “So what did you come up with?” It didn’t seem fair he could still talk while hauling that much weight.

  Gaby took a deep breath. Since he’d asked her outright, she would just say it. She raised her voice over the whir of the machine. “That your best chance of satisfying your sponsor is the Bachelor o
f the Year contest.”

  “NO WAY.” ZACK’S RHYTHM faltered; he scowled at Gaby. “I told you, I’m not doing that contest.”

  “Thanks for giving it your serious consideration,” she said, her normally full lips tight. The light in her eyes faded, then something flickered there that might have been hurt. Or panic. Then again, it might have been the intent to whack him over the head with a barbell.

  “It’s nothing personal, Gaby.” Dammit, why was he defending his perfectly reasonable response? “You’re my fifth MMG account manager since January.” He saw her gathering steam and added quickly, “I’m not proud of that statistic. But it’s a sign that I’m just not good at PR.”

  Gaby’s chin lifted; by now he knew that meant she was getting ready to argue. “No one’s asking you to be someone you’re not,” she said. “You’re not a guy who’ll churn out happy sound-bites for the media, and that’s fine. We need to harness your natural style to make the best impression.”

  That would have made sense, if she hadn’t been talking about the bachelor contest. Zack eyed Gaby. In her cream-colored wrap dress, she looked as cool and delectable as vanilla ice cream. It was weird—she got prettier every time he saw her.

  Zack stopped rowing, ignoring the beeped protest of the electronic timer and grabbed his towel. He rubbed down his face, shoulders and back. He’d reached his chest by the time he became aware Gaby was sneaking surreptitious glances at him. Hmm, Ms. Vanilla Ice cream wasn’t as cool as she appeared….

  He tamped down the awareness. “I don’t feel right about this whole PR business,” he said. “What’s the point of having a great image, if the reality doesn’t live up to it? It’s better to put my effort into fixing reality.”

  “You mean, you intend to work on your personality defects?”

  He stretched his arms behind his head, saw the reluctant way her gaze followed the movement. “I intend to work on my racing.”

  She lost interest in his physique, snapped her eyes back to his.