Tracks To Love: An Enemies To Lovers Alpha Hero Romance

by Abbie St. Claire

  Certain I was a mess from head to toe, I searched the alley for my phone, but it was nowhere to be found. Unable to put off the obvious, I had to scurry to the office once again with more drama to explain.

  “Nice of you to join us, Ms. Alders,” Marcus uttered while writing on the whiteboard with his back to me.

  I was certain that Yvette had buzzed in that I was on my way to the conference room, giving away my late arrival.

  Then all eyes were on me, including those of bright blue belonging to Marcus. “What the f—”

  “Your office, please sir?”

  The look on his face told me he understood the need for privacy, but as we left the room, I heard the whispers begin.

  After explaining the situation, I stopped pacing and took the guest chair at his desk, while he leaned over the opposite side and stared at me.

  He buzzed Yvette to make a bag of ice before taking his seat. “My first question would normally be ‘What were you thinking?’ but it was just coffee, and there had to be a ton of people around.”

  “There were, but I think once I started punching him, they thought I had it under control.”

  “You’re obviously still in serious danger.” Leaning forward on the desk, he rubbed his cheeks with his hands. “I want you to take the day off, pack what you need, and get on a plane tonight for Dallas. I will pick up your expenses because you’re gonna work your ass off to finish the photo and video shoots within the next two weeks.”

  “Two weeks?” I sat forward, our faces mere inches apart. “That’s not possible. Tate is in France.”

  He laughed. “I know. He sent me a text. Look, too many moving parts to keep up with. You have to get out of here, and you have a reason to be away. I’ll handle the police and let them investigate your stuff in storage, but I want you nowhere near here. I need to know you’re safe.”

  Tate sent Marcus a text, yet I hadn’t heard from him?

  With a big sigh, I leaned back in the chair and agreed to do as Marcus had ordered. But, there were things I needed to take care of first.

  Dressing down in jeans, kicks, eyeglasses instead of contacts, and a sock-beanie to hide my long, dark hair, I found the nearest phone vending machine and bought a replacement.

  Back at the penthouse, I stuffed two suitcases with as much as I could while Yvette made my travel arrangements to Dallas.

  The idea of going home has never felt so good.

  11

  Marcus gave me an upgrade to first class on the flight to Dallas, which was a lovely gesture. While I settled into the comfy seat, my thoughts ventured to Tate and why I hadn’t heard from him. I’d sent him a text that I’d lost my phone and had a replacement, but he hadn’t answered. The last thing I wanted to do was go all schoolgirl on him by reaching out to Marcus and inquiring if he’d heard from Tate again. That was a big no-no. But something told me they’d been in constant contact. I was sure of it.

  It would’ve been cheaper to stay with my mom, but a black eye would require explaining and upset her terribly, so I decided to stay in a hotel. Once healed, I’d call her, keeping the rest of my shenanigans a secret. With her drinking issues, it didn’t seem right to stress her out any more than she already was.

  Once in the hotel, I took an extended hot shower and reflected on the one Tate and I had enjoyed earlier that morning. What a beautiful mess we were. I just wished he’d call—I missed him.

  I spent the rest of the weekend in the hotel, lazily working on my computer, going for runs, playing games on my iPad, and napping. I would’ve loved to see old friends, but I didn’t want to explain anything. By Monday, I was able to cover my damage somewhat with makeup and eyeglasses.

  “Hey Trey, how’ve you been?” It was good to see my old friend at Speed Shield in Addison.

  “Good.” He studied my face. “How’s the other guy look?”

  “Still obvious, huh?”

  He nodded, wearing a smirk.

  “Actually, I got some blows in on him before the police hauled him away. He picked the wrong gal to mug.”

  “Nice.”

  I followed my long, lanky friend into his office. I thought it could be ten degrees below zero, and he would surely be sporting shorts and hiking boots. Some things never changed.

  “So, we’ve got the designs to wrap Tate’s car and should be ready for it by Tuesday. When can he get it to us?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Good question, he’s in France.”

  “Can you get it instead? It’s here in town, right?”

  “Let me find out what I can and I’ll be in touch.”

  Well, Mr. Conway, the ball is in your court.

  Marcus was going to flip his wig if Tate couldn’t produce the car on time. Rather than ruffle feathers in the office, I left Tate a voicemail and sent him a text about the car. Lunchtime in Dallas meant dinnertime in France, so surely he would respond to something before bedtime.

  It was a beautiful fall day in Texas, and the idea of hiding out in the hotel another day didn’t fit with me, so I decided to take a stroll in the pumpkin patch at the Dallas Arboretum. Watching all the moms and kids take pictures got me thinking about Gabbie and her little baby on board. I wanted that life for myself.

  Rowan and I had fought about that very thing the morning he was killed. I refused to marry him and settle down with babies until he gave up racing. I couldn’t face the idea of a child being raised without him. My own selfish needs had deprived him of his—he had desperately wanted to be a father.

  But, life had since taught me there were no guarantees of a tomorrow.

  Live your life beautifully. Tomorrow may never come.

  “Do you have kids?” the woman beside me asked.

  She probably thought I was embarking on stranger danger by staring at her little boy, who was happily playing with the tiny pumpkins piled high on hay bales, but in reality, I was just gazing off into space. “Uh, no. Maybe someday.”

  My phone beeped with a text from Tate.

  “Excuse me, I’ve gotta go.” I walked away from the lady, hoping to have a conversation with Tate. Not so much, since he was a man of few words.

  Here’s the address to my parents. Get the car from them. Talk soon.

  That was a blow off if ever—

  Talk soon? Why couldn’t he call me? One and done, that’s what we were. Yep, it was just him getting what he wanted and going back to his playboy life.

  The thought sickened me.

  The Uber driver must have thought I was a stalker when we reached his parents’ house. I didn’t have the courage to go in right away, and asked him to wait just a few minutes. I wondered how many other girls had stalked his parents’ place. Did Whitney? Finally, I steeled myself, gave the driver a ridiculous tip, and climbed out of the car.

  Insanity or survival?

  I had a job to do, and that was exactly what I was going to do. The photo shoot was scheduled for Sunday, and the videography was scheduled for the following week. There was no time to be a wimp. Two weeks to put Tate, racing, and all this shit behind me.

  I went to my favorite restaurant, Best Thai in Addison, and was welcomed by the familiar, fragrant specialties.

  “Willow, is that you?” Seemie asked.

  “Yes. I need a table for one.”

  “Pretty girl should never eat alone,” she uttered in her accent and showed me to a table in the back.

  As I took a seat, the word alone rang out. I could only be alone if I chose to be.

  The phone rang three times before my bestie answered.

  “I’m in town for work, and it’s last minute, but you wanna meet me for Thai?”

  She squealed. “Fifteen minutes. Don’t eat all the edamame before I get there.”

  Unable to help myself, I started on the spicy green pods as soon as Seemie put them on the table.

  Amanda had better hurry.

  “So great to see you,” she confessed as she hugged me and almost knocked me to the floor. Once she took her seat,
she looked me over. “That looks like more damage than just a door. What the hell?”

  After I spilled the contents of the week, she shook her head. “Forget Tate, forget NYC, and move your ass back home. You’re a damn good nurse, and I’m sure after Roy’s heart attack, they have more things to worry about then punishing you with their bystander lawsuit bullshit.”

  I almost choked on a soybean. “Mr. Fit and Fabulous Roy had a heart attack?”

  I despised Rowan’s smug parents and they hated me even more.

  “I’d say it was about a month ago. Of course, they threw their name and money around, forcing the ambulance to take them to our competitor.”

  Sounds like nothing has changed.

  “He was probably using Viagra and tangling with that gal from the tracks,” I whispered. We both laughed. “Yeah, that young stuff will put you in the hospital.”

  Amanda studied me quietly. “Are you ready for the racing life again?”

  “Well, since he won’t talk to me, I can unequivocally answer no. I’ll finish my work assignment and walk away from this stuff for good. It’s helped me stare down my demons. I never thought I could even look at a black and white flag without falling into a storm, so for that, I’m grateful.”

  She propped one elbow on the table and planted a hand under her chin. “How was the sex?”

  “Whoa, did you really just go there?”

  She giggled. “I did, and I’m waiting on an answer.”

  “Amazing.”

  Hours passed as we hung out, enjoyed drinks, and caught up. I’d missed her terribly and I missed my real life. Three months in New York suddenly seemed like a bad soap opera script, but I was no quitter. I had to see things through.

  At least she was going to be off most of the following week, so she could come watch the video shoot. We were both excited to see how they actually shot real life stuff for video games.

  At the end of the evening, we said goodnight, but not goodbye, and that put a smile on my face. It was a welcome reprieve from the day-to-day life I was living…

  12

  Unable to put off the inevitable, I slowly approached the Conway’s front door. It opened unexpectedly, startling me.

  “Can I help you?” An older, graying version of Tate stood there, eyeing me.

  Definitely his dad, but the eyes were different.

  “Um, yes. I’m Willow Alders of the Zion Agency. Tate said you’d be expecting me to make arrangements for his car.”

  “Ah, yes, Dave did call about that. I’m Lawrence, Tate’s dad, by the way.”

  Dave called, not Tate? “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Tate’s told me great stories about your family.”

  He didn’t respond. Odd, I guess Tate didn’t tell his parents about me.

  “He’s a great driver,” his dad continued, “and his car is a beauty. It’s out in the back garage. It needs to be cleaned up. You wanna see it?”

  I loved fancy sports cars. And despite everything I’d been through, excitement built within me like a sixteen-year-old about to get her first set of keys. “Absolutely.”

  He talked about Tate and his racing career as he led me to the huge locked garage on the back part of their property. They had a large, lovely home set on several acres at the edge of The Colony, an affluent, growing suburb north of Dallas.

  Once he pulled the cover back from the car, I got the mental picture of what our project was all about. The sharp edges of Corvette’s newest design were like none previous. It was beautiful, and the name of the color, shark grey, indicated that the car was a beast.

  “It’s awesome, much more fabulous in person,” I said, stroking the lines of the headlights.

  “Truly an amazing car,” Lawrence said. “The racing package shows the track, the speed and has a video camera, so everything is recorded. Totally sweet.”

  “Yes, it is,” a woman echoed.

  I turned to see a gorgeous lady with dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. Tate’s eyes.

  “You must be Willow. We were expecting you.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Conway,” I extended my hand.

  “Please, call me Sara. Why don’t we go get a cup of coffee. Lawrence will be a while once he gets to tinkering.”

  While we slowly walked back up to the house, Sara told me about how Lawrence loved cars more than any other hobby, but his family had always come first. I enjoyed listening to her talk about him with such passion. She said they’d been married forty-two years. The love she had for him poured out of her eyes each mention of his name.

  I’ll have a long marriage like that someday.

  I joined her at the kitchen table. The home was an open design, and I could tell it was created for a large family—big table, lots of pots and pans hanging from a pot rack over an island that seated eight. The living area held a leather sectional along with several recliners. It was a gathering place. I was instantly envious of the family atmosphere. Perhaps I could’ve had something like that sooner in my life if I’d simply said yes to Rowan’s dreams.

  Sara was warm and kind. She was easy to talk to, but I suppose when you have four daughters, you learn the art of listening quite well.

  “Do you have any brothers and sisters?” She handed me a cup of steaming hot coffee and set a plate of shortbread cookies between us.

  “No, just me and my mom.” I didn’t want to get into the specifics of how my small family had fallen apart.

  “I guess Tate told you we’re overrun with females around here.”

  “Yes, he did. Are any of the sisters married with children?”

  She stood and motioned for me to follow her. As we walked down the long hallway, I was overwhelmed at all the photographs of the five children as they were growing up. Then came Elizabeth’s family photo with her husband Franklin and their two children, Ryan and Aimee. All dark-haired like their mom. After that came the next oldest, Cara, her husband Thomas and their baby, little Ava. Funny to see Ava had her dad’s blonde hair and the bluest eyes. Future heartbreaker.

  As we strolled the hall, Sara pointed to the images and told me many stories. I loved seeing Tate’s first baseball uniform and when he got the keys to his first car, a stealth-looking z28. I could tell he thought he was a stud even then.

  It was hard to keep my heart from becoming involved in their family. They had something I’d always dreamed of having. My own immediate family couldn’t fill that void, but the dream of having lots of children someday still lived deep inside me.

  Finally, we reached his younger twin sisters, who looked nothing alike. Mia resembled her father, tall with broad shoulders while Leah looked like her mother and shared Tate’s eyes.

  “Mia’s getting married at Christmas in Hawaii. After planning two large weddings here, I’m looking forward to that vacation. The wedding planner keeps insisting there’s nothing to do but show up.”

  “Hmm, that’s my kind of wedding.”

  At the very end of the hall, I saw the ultrasound of twin babies. “Mia and Leah? Your surprise to their dad?”

  Sara’s face fell, and the coffee cup in her hand trembled, before crashing to the floor.

  “Oh no. I’m sorry.” I scooped to pick up the pieces.

  “No.” She paused and dabbed at a tear. “Those were Tate’s twins with Whitney.”

  God, what have I done? “Oh, Sara, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

  She turned and quickly walked back toward the kitchen to get something to clean up the mess. When she returned, I gave her a hug and took the towel. “I’ve got this.”

  While I provided her a moment, I stared at the framed ultrasound photo. The date was almost four years prior. Right before he’d left Whitney.

  Nothing makes sense.

  I joined her at the kitchen table. “Again, I’m so very sorry. He never said anything to me about them.”

  She wiped at her tears. “He doesn’t talk about them, ever. I’m challenged with putting the only memory of them in some drawer and forgetting, or
keeping them out so I remember them in a different way—a time when everyone was happy. Holding on and letting go, you know?”

  I do know. Unsure if she wanted to talk about it, I remained quiet and slowly sipped my coffee.

  “He thought Whitney was the one. He waited for her in college, insisting on going locally to TCU, so he could be with her all the time. But as she grew up, she changed.”

  “He told me about the drugs but not the twins.” Removing a band from my wrist, I pulled my hair back into a ponytail, and settled in to hear more about Tate and his life—what had made him who he was.

  “She was using drugs even while she was pregnant. One night, high on drugs and alcohol, she overstepped the top stair of their staircase and fell to the bottom. She had a broken arm, and she lost the babies. The doctors said the pregnancy wouldn’t have made it even without the fall, due to all the drugs and alcohol in her system.” Sara fidgeted with a stray curl beside her eye. “Tate got lost in himself, somewhere between Jesus and a bottle of Jack Daniels. It was a horrible time for all of us, but it changed him forever.”

  So, once he starts caring for someone, he runs.

  And… there’s more to know about his drinking problem.

  “I’m sorry for your loss. I can’t imagine what your family went through. Tate is a wonderful man. He will find his way eventually when the time is right.”

  “You care about him. I can see it in your eyes, the way they sparkle when you say his name.”

  “Yes, I do, very much. He’s been a great friend to me this last week while things have been tough.”

  She pointed to my eye. “Jealous boyfriend?”

  I touched my cheek. “Ha, pretty isn’t it? No, this would be a wannabe mugger, but I won.”