Fast Love (The Billionaires Club Book 3)

by Zoe Adams

  “Thanks, I did.”

  Indiana inched out of the corner and set down the half-eaten slice of pie. She tallied up her day to see if she’d done something wrong or forgotten an appointment. Nothing signified the end of the world, or their friendship. She remained silent. He would be the deal breaker. She wouldn’t set herself up for anything. Justin had the aura of waiting for her to fail. He would need all the advantage he could get when dealing with Indiana, and they both knew it.

  He gave her the rundown of the day.

  Indiana listened, and wished his petty list was over. When the conversation turned to ifs and maybe next years, she excused herself.

  The pizza had been devoured quickly. She left the tables and microwave for her office.

  There were many reasons she loved her best friends. They had saved her a slice of pizza and a drink. Another reason Charley and Calvin were good friends manifested again. During her talk with Justin, they had deposited all the new belongings in her office.

  The little white cubbyhole looked completely different. The antique desk with black leather inlay had been just the right size for the shoe box room. It had been set with minimal things. Stacks of papers were being organized somewhere else. In the bottom of a crate of mail sat a federal express envelope.

  Indiana looked at it and almost dropped it. The return label came from an old favorite, R. Sand. The postmark read five days ago. She started to shake. Calvin eased her into the miniature office chair.

  Calvin and Charley looked at her and stepped from the room. Fumbling fingers finally released the letter from its wait.

  Indy,

  It’s great to see you in the circuit, but you already have a race car.

  Call me!

  Richard

  At last he had given her a surefire way to find him and reach out to him.

  Indiana sat and sat, until there was a knock on the door. Her friends peeked through a widening crack, and she waved them in.

  “Shut the door, please.” They did and the room resumed its semi-quiet nature.

  “Calvin, I know you’re still trying out for the NFL, but maybe you should just work for me.”

  His eyes lit up, and Charley piped up. “That would be great. What do you want us to do?”

  Indiana shook her head and smiled. “You guys are the best. First thing—that race car out there is mine. I want it loaded up and taken to the next track early. If anyone gives you trouble, tell them they have already been paid for this week. If they want to quit then it has to be on Monday. The only person who is done working for me is Justin. I know I’m leaving a lot of things up in the air, but by Saturday I’ll know where to haul everything after the race. Everything that you might have a question about, just send to this address. I’m also leaving you in charge of packing up my beautiful office. Don’t worry, I’ll find a better one.”

  She was typing and talking, then sent the information to Charley and Calvin’s email.

  “Ready to help me repack my office?” She smirked, and they nodded.

  The removal of personal items was the invitation to confrontation.

  “So, where are you going?” Justin didn’t try to help as he parked himself obtrusively in the narrow aisles of the shop.

  “You can’t ask me that anymore.” Indiana reluctantly broke pace and set down the computer she called her electronic briefcase. “I have a new manager.”

  “Oh yeah, who is that? Your dumb friend or the queer?” The smirk made him look like a child, and his skin looked grey, making the combination more undesirable than ever to Indiana.

  “If I were you, I wouldn’t get hung up on what or who is dumb.” She remained passive as the bite had its desired effect.

  “I don’t need this, you know.” He was suddenly busy.

  “That’s all right. I don’t think you understand how shops and employees are replaceable. And this,” she waved at the upkeep she constantly complained about, “this isn’t my style.”

  “Now you are insulting my shop too? Go ahead and leave. I want you out,” Justin yelled. The door slammed shut behind her with major relief and granted her dismissal.

  Chapter 22

  Indiana parked the eighteen-wheeler truck. The wonders of driving never ceased to amaze her. This would be home for the next few days. But it was not the sort of comforting feeling she wanted.

  After the trial race, she didn’t know where to park the auto hauler next. She could drive it to her windy plateau house on the bluffs. Indiana could be happy there. But where would she put all her employees?

  She needed a shop. She had won some and lost some in the last few months. She had attained a crew and a car, but had lost a shop. She felt very unstable right now and the feeling was unwelcome.

  Readjusting the team had been a big upheaval. It left gaps being scrambled to be filled, and one of them was auto hauler.

  She had been planning on finding some excuse to hit the highway, and jumped at the opportunity for relief. She broke the law and pulled the trailer herself. They were some of the first to the racetrack. The diesel hauler was given reprieve, but Indiana was not.

  There were still a million miles and countless hurdles between her and any rest.

  Her race car was being rolled out of the hauler. Indiana planned on staying with the car. She had acquired a trailer and camper with bathrooms. There were temporary places on wheels for the repairmen to use. But Indiana was an outsider.

  She didn’t get a trailer just for her. It would have isolated her even more from the crew. She would sleep in the back of the semi-truck. It had a bed and room for a table and closet. She could sit cross-legged on the floor and have enough room.

  Indiana planned on earning racing stripes and credentials. Then having an expensive trailer would be justified. Besides, she didn’t have enough things to put in it yet.

  Sleeping in the semi-truck offered its advantages. A bright white race car usually sat nearby. Momma bear liked to sleep next to her white roaring baby. Indiana’s life revolved around concrete roads and a shiny white race car.

  Indiana still hadn’t named a sponsor yet. With Indiana’s inheritance, her mother, Frank, and a few of his friends, the car always had what it needed. They purposely downplayed any logos and publicity stunts.

  She and her car shared similarities. Innocence covering fire. The exterior might be unscathed and untouched, it only made the insides debatable. All the jokes and attention made Indiana feel backwards. Once more, she was slated as an outsider. Her approach to racing was an untried path. It gave her more attention than she expected.

  Indiana had become America’s sweetheart. Being innocent made her want to win even more. Indiana became the ghost of ladies past. It turned out to be the fresh angle she wanted and worked very well for the private investors.

  The car still looked innocent and untried. So was Indiana. She liked it for the moment, but didn’t know how long she could maintain the image.

  She had the most direct control over the car and it still hadn’t let her down. She wished everything could be so easy. She sighed and let Richard go again. The thought of working hard for more than one thing at a time made her head spin.

  Indiana knew she needed Richard. He had reached out to her weeks ago with a letter. But Indiana needed more than a note from him. She needed his outstretched arm to grab her and never let her go.

  The days of giving herself to daydreams were over. He had to answer her spiritual call and come to her side. She had pushed herself for years and miles. She just couldn’t take the last few remaining steps of her own free will. His disease would stop anyone. It confused and hurt her, so she put it away. It would be dealt with when the time came. Whenever he felt like making those big steps, then all her trepidations, doubts, fears, and insecurities could go away.

  In the meantime, racing had been her only true source of joy, and she loved it. But this was her life, and she would enjoy it while she could.

  She locked the truck up tight. No one would
be moving her race car without her there. But first, Indiana needed a shower.

  Indiana made her way to the bathrooms. She listened for footsteps. It sounded clear. She deadbolted the door of the locker room and looked around. It looked clean with sterile white lockers and benches.

  Indiana smiled. This would work fine. She took a shower and shaved. It felt good after completing a long thirteen-hour drive. She planned on a nap then driving later in the afternoon.

  Her body felt better physically. Something deep inside her tingled when she walked back to the truck. She lay down in the truck and fell asleep.

  An hour later she woke up to a knock on the door. Indiana rolled onto her back at the scratchy insistence. She looked through the glass and wished she would’ve pretended to keep sleeping.

  Richard Sand met her gaze. Indiana’s heart started racing. She would’ve been glad he still did it for her, but the look on his face brought all the joy to a slamming halt.

  Indiana tried to look graceful and ladylike when she climbed from the cab and around the seats. She opened the door and stood beside him somberly.

  Indiana was glad she had slept, and relieved she had showered. At least she didn’t stink when she greeted him.

  “Hi, Richard.” Indiana smiled widely and hoped to displace his worry.

  “Indiana. What are you doing here?” He gripped her elbow tightly and looked around covertly.

  Indiana shook her head. “Nothing. I’m getting ready to race. How did you know I was here?”

  “Why don’t you have your own camper?” He twisted her arm incessantly.

  “I don’t know. What’s wrong with the locker room?” Indiana didn’t understand what the big deal was and shook her head.

  “Indiana! There are surveillance cameras all over the place.”

  Indiana looked over his shoulder at a telephone pole. “Yeah, so? I’m not afraid if people see me walk around on the tracks or down the hall.”

  “Come on, Indiana. Do you think they are only in public places? How do I know you are here, or just took a shower?”

  Indiana’s face burned. “What do you mean? You saw me take a shower?”

  “Yeah, everybody did.”

  “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

  “No, of course not. I might hear some good strategy or trick for winning on this racetrack.”

  Indiana couldn’t believe it. “So this is my racing debut. Everyone gets to see my butt. I get to go ass first into the arena? You should be ashamed of yourself. You should be teaching me things about the racetrack. What could a newbie offer a professional?”

  Richard’s green eyes caught something very strong. “I’m sure you could teach me a lot about other things. But I’m here right now as a favor to your family. Tell me right now why you have to use public restrooms.”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Indiana said with bite.

  Richard shook his head. “All the professionals have their own trailers.”

  “I have trailers; I just let the men have them. It didn’t make sense to have it to myself.”

  Richard softened significantly. “You’re always by yourself. Who are your sponsors?”

  “No one yet.”

  Richard shook his head. “Let me see your car.”

  “Fine.” Indiana walked him to the car.

  “This is it?”

  He walked around it and checked everything possible. Thirty minutes later he went back to stand beside Indiana.

  “It looks like you have yourself a nice little race car. But we won’t know anything until you qualify for something besides naked showers.” He winked devilishly at her. “Let’s see you race this thing.”

  That was all the encouragement Indiana needed from him. He always said the right things. Indiana talked to her crew.

  After thirty minutes of preparing, Indiana climbed into the driver’s seat. Years of mental practice prepared her for this. She sat and waited for the go signal. Indiana’s car took off. She couldn’t afford one slow lap. And she couldn’t afford a wreck either. The first couple of laps averaged one hundred fifty miles per hour.

  The tires started to soften. It felt more like a breeze at the one hundred seventy-five mark. She pushed a max speed of one hundred eighty. Her heart had thumped this hard before. Only Richard could do it to her.

  His imitations of this feeling made racing hard. Whenever he touched her, butterflies came home to her belly. But those feelings were from another human. This feeling was from her own self and accomplishments. When she focused on herself and her own records she drove much better.

  She put the car back in the pit area. She climbed through the window and smiled. Everyone else had the same excited look.

  “Well, I guess it’s time to find out who your sponsor is.” Richard took her helmet.

  “I don’t want a sponsor. I like my car plain white.”

  “You’re crazy.” Richard rolled his eyes. “Don’t you want to make money and have all this stuff for free?”

  “Of course I do, I just want to choose who and what goes on my car.” Indiana crossed her arms and leaned against it.

  Richard shuffled his weight from foot to foot. He considered her for a moment then looked around.

  “Well, I don’t know how you’re going to survive in a man’s world without a public sponsor backing you up. But I didn’t think you’d be sleeping in the truck, or using the public bathrooms, either.” He held out his hand to her. “Come on. You’re going home with me.”

  Indiana took his hand and followed him from the place.

  The old Indiana would have been happy. She found those original feelings of happiness. He’d knocked on her window today and her initial feeling had been joy. She loved the feeling of being in an expert’s hands.

  Richard could redeem himself. He drove her to his house. But the joy was gone from his face. Indiana felt nervous and tight in front of him.

  “You’re really hard to catch. The type of girl that leaves before dawn and shows up just in time for dinner,” Richard reprimanded with admiration, and his serious attitude was left on the other side of his front door.

  Indiana felt nearer to the comfort she needed. Her heart had decided to make an exit, and the smooth regulation of blood ceased. All of her will was toward holding composure, and not throwing herself at him hungrily. The haze of that familiar tongue-tied state gave her permission to let down her guard.

  Richard could read her mind. His hands were suddenly full of her. He pulled her chin up and forced her to stare into his eyes.

  “Now who is not taking care of themselves?” he asked, and clucked after close observation.

  He stood so close. Hot, aromatic breath was on her, and it warmed up the rest of her face. Heavy green eyes blinked, and her head nodded slowly.

  “Let me guess,” he said, his finger tracing her cheek and lower lip, “you haven’t slept since two days ago, and eaten in half that long.”

  Indiana shrugged and it only brought her closer to his scrutiny. “It’s the life of racing; I’m sure I’ll get better at it.”

  That statement about age and practice seemed to reestablish his control and he stepped back.

  “I’m cooking dinner.” He picked up his glass and took a sip of golden liquor. Then he held out his hand. “Would you like to join me in the kitchen?”

  Indiana nodded.

  “Good, come on.”

  Richard led her down a checkered hall. The kitchen turned into a melting pot of delectable aromas. Indiana walked to the sink and washed her hands before taking a seat at the counter.

  “It smells good in here.” She folded the towel and set it aside. Indiana waited for Richard to turn from the simmering pans that held his rapt attention.

  “Yes, it does,” the man agreed with a twist of his professional wrist. “I have been cooking like a madman. Who knew most meals only take an hour, so it’s just as easy as going out for dinner. The bad thing is recipes usually make big portions. And it’s hard to eat
alone.” He set the spoon up for a blow, and dipped it on his tongue. The utensil was used to conduct him in his turn when he finally did face her.

  Richard set her up for the sensual dip of sauce, and she opened her mouth obediently. The smooth combinations had her considering the source. Her eyes almost closed in appreciation. She admired the maker, and not the root of the sauce that lingered of wine.

  “That is so good.” Her head bounced in a nod.

  Richard beamed. “What would you like to drink?”

  “What are you having?” She was easy.

  He laughed and tumbled ice into the receptacle. Both drinks were properly topped, and he saluted her. “It’s nice to see you, Indy. So, when are you going to start taking care of yourself?”

  “There are a lot of things that I need to start doing,” she said coyly.

  “You’re not supposed to tease a starving man with ideas of hot cherry pie.” Richard bestowed very heavy and tortured eyes on her.

  She looked at him sideways. “Are you really starving?”

  The look he gave her could have put him in the ring with an ultimate fighter. Indiana sipped the fire. She had come here with questions, and as usual, their interest was aroused in other areas.

  “Richard?”

  He hadn’t moved until he heard his name, and his head jerked a mile. His interest showed up when his hands went everywhere. He picked her up and set her on the counter.

  He settled comfortably between her legs and whispered, “That’s better. What did you want to say?”

  Indiana tried to remember her question. He prolonged her befuddled look with whispering touches and breathless kisses. The savory moment was broken by the ding of the oven.

  He stepped back with a deep breath, and Indiana chilled without him.

  “You taste just as good as I remember.” Flowered hot pads were on his hands, and he looked at her quickly. “Maybe even better.”

  Dinner came out of the oven with an aromatic billow. He dished up two plates before leading her to the dark side of the dining room. He lit a few tall candles. They sat on the narrow end of a long table.