by Abby Gaines
“Motor Media Group will do everything possible to advance Zack’s cause,” Sandra said. Which meant Gaby would do everything possible.
“I don’t mind telling you, this NASCAR sponsorship has been a big disappointment to date,” Rob said.
Gaby looked…besieged. Her demeanor reminded Zack of their first meeting, when she’d clearly been out of her depth, yet somehow, she’d pulled out her show-stopping accusation that he was a has-been, and he’d ended up agreeing to work with her.
Do it again, he advised her silently. Find that sucker punch.
But instead, he could see her going under, floundering as Rob Hudson suggested Getaway should pay on results, not effort. Sandra wasn’t jumping in to help as she normally would—Zack guessed she saw this as some kind of test for Gaby. He frowned.
Chad noticed. “Zack, did you have something to add?”
Zack ditched the frown, in case anyone thought he was sponsor-hostile. While he had their attention he might as well say something to support Gaby. Right now she had no one else in her corner.
“Gaby has invested considerable time in preparing me for the bachelor contest,” he said. “To be honest, she didn’t get a lot of cooperation. But I’ve been pleasantly surprised at the outcome, and from now on I plan to put more effort in at my end.”
Gaby’s jaw dropped.
Hudson stared, as if Zack was speaking a foreign language.
Surely he hadn’t been that uncooperative in previous meetings? Zack thought about how the relationship with Getaway had deteriorated since he’d won at Daytona, right before they’d signed the sponsorship deal, and realized he probably had.
“Excellent news,” Sandra said, almost concealing her surprise.
Okay, babe, over to you, he telegraphed to Gaby.
Eyes shining, she grabbed the opportunity with both hands. “We’ve done extremely well with, as Zack said, less than his full endorsement of our program. Although we can’t guarantee a win in the contest, we can guarantee an improved focus on media opportunities, and in my experience that always gets results.”
Chad’s smile was faintly ironic, but there was genuine warmth in his eyes as he looked at Zack—Zack knew he had Gaby to thank for that. Too late, Zack realized he’d probably just committed himself to a bunch of PR activities that weren’t about racing. Yet the idea didn’t worry him as much as he’d expected—obviously he was still riding a wave of confidence after his win, but could it last?
We’ll make it last.
With a jolt, he realized the we included him and Gaby. Well, why the heck not? He and Gaby made quite a team.
PATSY GROSSO, OWNER, WITH her husband Dean, of Cargill-Grosso Racing, was one of NASCAR’s best-known and most liked figures. So when the Grossos invited people to Patsy’s fiftieth birthday party, held at a motorsports museum in Charlotte, around three hundred guests flocked to attend.
Gaby changed into her short, pale gray silk dress at the office, and traveled to the party with two of her colleagues. She looked her best. She’d put in an hour with her hair straightener in the office bathroom, and the beading around the scooped neckline made her figure-hugging dress even more elegant.
When they arrived at the museum, Gaby scanned the room, looking for Zack. She owed him her thanks for rescuing her from that awkward situation during Tuesday’s meeting. She’d have sworn he’d been too focused on himself to observe her increasing desperation. But he’d shifted Getaway’s, and more importantly Sandra’s, perception in Gaby’s favor.
She helped herself to a smoked salmon hors d’oeuvre from a tray proffered by a waiter whose white shirt bore the Gourmet by Grace logo.
Grace Winters, a celebrated chef from a family better known for producing top NASCAR crew chiefs, must have catered tonight’s party, which meant the food would be wonderful. It was obvious no expense had been spared in creating the perfect occasion, as evidenced by the well-known jazz quartet playing at the far end of the room, and the lavish decorations. Swathes of gold silk formed a canopy that disguised the venue’s exposed air-conditioning ducts, while black-and-white checkered ribbon streamed everywhere.
Given the number of people filling the room, it was odd that Gaby immediately spotted Zack amongst the crowd.
She caught her breath. In his dark shirt and dark pants, he was the best-looking man there. He glanced her way. Holding her gaze, Zack walked toward her.
He kissed her cheek—too fleeting. “You look great,” he said.
Was it her imagination, or did he sound slightly husky?
The glint in his eye turned proprietary. “You’d better stick with me tonight,” he said. “There’s every chance I’ll blow my new nice-guy image if you’re not around.”
She sighed. “A PR rep’s work is never done.”
He grinned, and that crooked grin tugged at her heart.
“Hey, you two.” Chad approached, his arm around Brianna’s waist. She looked so happy, content—as if she was in the best place in the world.
Gaby knew a sudden certainty that wrapped in Zack’s arms would be an even better place.
Brianna was talking about tonight’s festivities. She’d come to know Patsy well over the past few months, and had been involved in planning the party.
Gaby grabbed the reprieve from her thoughts of Zack, and threw herself into the safe conversation. “Everything seems to be going very smoothly,” she said.
Brianna grimaced. “Grace is worried that she’s shorthanded.”
“She called Tony this afternoon and insisted he haul his butt here to help,” Chad said.
“Tony?” Gaby asked, not caring in the least.
“Our team accountant, Tony Winters, is Grace’s brother-in-law,” Zack explained. “He owns part of the catering business with her, but he’s usually hands-off.”
“Interesting,” Gaby said. And it was—when Zack’s deep voice was doing the talking. The realization shook her.
“There he is now. He had to break a hot date to get here.” Chad raised his voice to a good-looking, dark-haired man. “Hey, Tony, the uniform suits you.” Chad grinned as his wife swatted his arm. Tony looked less than thrilled at the compliment—he gave Chad a tight smile and moved on.
By the time Gaby had displayed immense and entirely phony interest in Tony Winters’s love life, Grace Winters’s catering business and the party planning, she’d just about reined in her unhealthy awareness of Zack. When Sandra and Taney joined their circle, she dismissed Zack entirely from her thoughts. Sandra was too astute—she’d pick up on any vibe between Gaby and her client faster than a NASCAR Sprint Cup car could pass a checkered flag.
When Sandra touched her arm and indicated Gaby should step back from the group, her heart sank.
“I know this is a social occasion, not work,” Sandra said. “But I’d like a word.”
“Sure.” Gaby rehearsed an argument to convince her boss she wasn’t involved with Zack, her priorities were exactly where they should be.
Sandra drew her out of earshot. “I’m impressed by your work with Zack,” she said. “You’ve surprised me, Gaby, in a good way. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“To be honest, I wasn’t sure, either,” Gaby surprised herself by saying. “I hoped I did, but working with Zack…”
“It’s pushed you to discover the extent of your abilities,” Sandra said. “And it’s clear to everyone now that those are considerable.”
“Thank you,” Gaby murmured, embarrassed by such lavish praise. It wasn’t so much that she’d discovered new abilities, she thought, as it was that working with Zack had built her confidence, strengthened her, so her strengths and abilities could shine.
“Hey, I didn’t hesitate to tell you when your work wasn’t up to scratch,” Sandra teased. “It’s only fair that I tell you when the situation has changed.”
Gaby caught her breath. “The situation?”
Sandra nodded, smiling. “I’m putting you back on the shortlist to stand in for me while I’m
on maternity leave.”
Gaby’s heart raced. “That’s wonderful.”
“You earned it,” Sandra said simply.
As she accepted Sandra’s kiss on the cheek, Gaby saw Zack watching her. She couldn’t hold in her delight as she smiled at him. He smiled back, and it seemed to her that the warmth beaming from him was hers alone.
ZACK COULDN’T BELIEVE HOW drawn he was to Gaby tonight. She still had that hint of vulnerability he’d seen in their meeting yesterday. Combine that with her outward confidence and her phenomenal beauty in that silky dress…From the moment she walked in, he’d wanted to kiss her again.
She and Sandra rejoined the group, which had swelled to include Amber, Trey Sanford and a couple other people. The conversation turned to speculation about who would make the Chase for the NASCAR Sprint Cup.
“Are you going to make it, Zack?” Amber asked.
It wasn’t a topic Zack wanted to tempt fate by discussing. He shrugged and managed a tight smile at Amber. He wasn’t sure what he thought of his new stepsister yet. Brady was bending over backward to make her feel welcome, and Zack had to admit that kind of stuck in his craw.
He told himself that wasn’t Amber’s fault. Then he put her out of his mind as Gaby made her way around to him. She leaned into him, and Zack caught the scent of roses and jasmine. “Sandra just put me back on the shortlist for the promotion,” she said.
“That’s fantastic,” he said, thrilled for her. “You’re fantastic.”
She radiated suppressed excitement. “You get some of the credit, helping me out in that meeting yesterday.”
“That was just one moment. It’s taken a lot more than that to bring Sandra around.” He didn’t want to talk about work, he wanted to kiss her.
Chad and Brady edged into their conversation. “What are you and Gaby whispering about?” Chad asked.
“Nothing to do with you.” Zack winked at Gaby.
“Did you ever meet a guy as secretive as Zack?” Chad demanded of his father. Zack froze—it wasn’t the first time he’d been called secretive, usually as a prelude to a family argument.
“Never,” Brady said solemnly.
Chad cuffed Zack on the shoulder. “Hey, man, the words you whisper to a beautiful woman are none of your family’s business!” He grinned.
Relief flooded Zack. “At last, he gets it,” he said to Gaby with exaggerated patience. She laughed, eyes dancing. He wanted to hold her.
“I need to whisper more words to this beautiful woman,” he told Chad. Then, to Gaby, “Let’s dance.”
He half expected an argument, but instead she stepped into his arms.
The incredible rightness of the sensation floored Zack. No way, he told himself, could dancing with Gaby feel this…significant. Not after all they’d agreed on about how wrong they were for each other. Tell that to my libido. The band was playing a slow sad song. He tugged her closer, bent his head.
“No way,” she said.
“What?”
“Don’t even think about kissing me with your brother looking on and my boss hanging around.”
“We’ll go somewhere else, then.” Ignoring her protest, he picked up the pace so they were wildly out of time with the music. He steered her through the darkened doorway of an anteroom. In the faint light that reached it from the main room, he could see an exhibition of sponsor logos from over the decades. “Just your kind of thing,” he said, indicating the walls.
He pulled her farther into the room, where they couldn’t be seen, and left the light off. No one would know they were here.
“What an incredible night,” she said, sounding breathless and excited.
“Motor racing history really does it for me, too,” he said.
Gaby giggled, a carefree sound he hadn’t heard from her before. “You know what I mean,” she said. “Sandra saying I’m up for the promotion, your dad and Chad kidding around with you like you’re part of the family…”
“I know what you mean,” he agreed.
“It looks,” she said wonderingly, “as if we might both get what we want.”
“Incredible,” he said huskily, no longer talking about his family or her job. Gaby rose up on tiptoe to meet him; his mouth joined with hers. This was what he wanted. Needed.
Zack roamed her mouth. The darkness provided an immediate, added excitement, forcing him to rely on feel. On the sensation of her lips parted beneath his, seeking and giving. On the delighted, shivery response of her body to his touch. On the small sounds of need that escaped her, echoing Zack’s own soft groan. Gaby was passionate and beautiful and responsive.
“This is such a bad idea,” she murmured against his mouth.
“I can be bad if you can.”
A stifled giggle. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Trust me, honey, this is a great idea.” He took her mouth again, ran his hands over her, felt the warmth of her body through the thin silk. She stumbled in her high-heeled shoes, and kicked them off. Zack’s lips found the column of her throat.
“Ouch,” Gaby yelped.
Instantly, he lifted his head. “What’d I do?”
“It wasn’t you, I stood on something sharp.” She hopped slightly. “Yow, ow.”
“Okay, honey, let’s take a look.” Zack fumbled for the light switch.
When the ancient fluorescent lighting flickered into action, Zack registered that Gaby looked delightfully disheveled. He bent to examine her foot.
“It’s not a cut,” she said. “I don’t know what—”
“It was this.” Zack picked up a cuff link off the floor. No ordinary cuff link, it comprised an enormous diamond encased in gold. Even Zack, who knew nothing about gems, could see it must be worth a fortune.
“Here’s another one.” Gaby bent down and picked up a matching cuff link that had ended up beneath a display case, probably scuffed there as Zack and Gaby kissed. This one was half-wrapped in a twist of tissue. Gaby handed it to Zack.
“I’ve seen these before, I can’t think who they belong to.” Zack wondered if one of the other guests had put the anteroom to the same use he and Gaby just had, and the cuff links had been pulled off in the heat of passion. He turned one of the links over and held it up to the light so he could read the engraving.
A shock ran through him; quickly, he flipped over the other link. “What the hell?”
“Is there a problem?” Gaby asked.
He passed her the cuff links. “It’s difficult to see in this light, but does that look like the initials A.C.?”
She inspected the links. “The letters are worn, but yeah. The C’s clearer than the A.”
“Alan Cargill,” Zack said. The late owner of Cargill Racing.
Gaby gasped. “These are his?”
“He wore them at every major occasion. Including last year’s banquet.” Where Alan had been killed, and where his watch and cuff links had gone missing.
They stared at each other, processing the implication. It seemed one person among this glittering crowd knew more about Alan’s death than they’d admitted.
“We have to tell the police,” Gaby said, shaken.
Zack nodded. “I think that detective, Lucas Haines, is still on the case. Chad will have his number—Haines interviewed him at one point.” Carefully he wrapped the tissue around the cuff links. “Unfortunately, we probably just obscured any fingerprints that might have been on them.” He put the package into his pocket. “I guess Haines will want to interview both of us. We might need to set aside some time tomorrow.”
“He’ll probably want to know exactly what we were doing in here.” Gaby ran her hands over her hair, smoothing it down. Her primping reminded Zack how it felt to have his hands buried in there, cupping her head.
“I’m sure he’s heard more shocking confessions,” he said. “I doubt we’ll make the front pages.” He paused. “Headlineworthy though that kiss was.”
She pinkened. “It was,” she agreed.
He kissed her agai
n. “Hold that thought. I plan to do it again very soon.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
AMBER HELD HER WINEGLASS out in front of her in an attempt to create some personal space in the crowded museum. She shouldn’t have agreed to her mom’s request that she attend Patsy Grosso’s party.
It felt as if she was swimming in a sea of betrayal. Many of the people in this room had known her father, but as far as she knew, none of them had lifted a finger to help Julie-Anne. She wondered which of them had abetted her father’s addiction to alcohol. Somebody had supplied Billy with liquor after his accident, and it wasn’t Julie-Anne.
She glanced around for someone she might be able to trust. Chad and Brianna were dancing; Zack and Gaby appeared to be leaving in a hurry. Amber’s mom was at the other end of the room. She and Brady were caught up in a discussion with team owner Adam Sanford. Amber watched them. Did Brady’s grip on Julie-Anne’s arm look more than possessive…?
“Evening, beautiful,” said a familiar voice.
Amber never would have thought she’d be pleased to see Ryan. “You again,” she said with feigned irritation. She found herself smiling as she turned…and caught her breath.
Unlike most of the men present, he wore a tuxedo. Not stiffly, but with a careless grace that said he could get away with wearing it to a cookout if he chose. His blondish hair was rumpled—not like the other morning when he’d just woken up—as if he’d worked on messing it up just right. The effect was gorgeous.
Ryan measured her interest in his appearance, and grinned. “Don’t tell me I’ve caught your attention at last?”
“I was bored,” she said.
Ryan laughed. Did he take anything seriously? Amber had to wonder.
“I’m not so proud that I won’t settle for that. Let’s take a walk,” he said.