Chapter 5
Not Going to Happen
I spent every morning with Ina in her garden, running errands with her in their quaint little town, reacquainting myself with the English countryside and the place I had longed for as my home, even though I had only lived here for a little over a year. There was something about the country, the landscape, the weather, the people that just called to me. It spoke to my soul and made me feel whole in a way nowhere else on earth did as if I was living history. I loved the small leaning timber and brick buildings that lined every street. The rolling fields and the craggy stone fences crisscrossing them, sheep meandering across rural roads; it was heaven on earth, and then there was the track.
Every afternoon was spent either with Robert at the track or in his offices going over specs. He was using me as his office manager in the meantime, just so I could officially earn a bit of walking money until I could be introduced and pay rolled to the team.
I ran into Kelley only twice in the office, but both times he teetered between being a jerk and a gentleman. I couldn’t figure out what his problem was. In one breath he would encourage me and in the very next he would mock me. Any time Robert brought up my driving he would scoff and roll his eyes, but not before a wink. What the hell was that? Uncle Robert had no answer, he just sighed and shook his head at any mention of Kelley.
“He is a driver, Kiki. Drivers are moody. He is like a big kid with a toy, he doesn’t want to wait and he doesn’t want to share.”
“Your season hasn’t even started yet, Uncle Robert. You have been working hard on the new car, he should see that. You are going to help him win.”
“He is just anxious to see the car in action, but she isn’t ready. As far as he knows we don’t even have a development driver yet, which just makes him angsty. He never liked using a development team to begin with; trying to sell him on you isn’t going to be easy. You’ve got two strikes against you already, three if I’m honest, and Kelley can be a real pain in the ass.”
“How can I already have three strikes? How can I have any strikes? I haven’t done anything, and Kelley knows I’m a good driver. Let me drive, let me show him.”
“He hasn’t ever seen you drive, Kiki. The last time he saw you behind the wheel you were twelve and you were driving that cart he and your Daddy built for you. That hardly makes you qualified to drive his car.” He stared at me blankly before the door to the office swung open and Kelley burst in.
“That motherfucker,” he muttered under his breath before looking up at me. He moved past my temporary desk and bellowed “Robert!” He marched into the office, Robert hot on his heels and slammed the door shut, but it didn’t matter, I could still hear every word.
“Have you seen what that arrogant motherfucker said? Robert, these Mercedes dicks can suck me off. I am sick of their prissy little playboy running his mouth. I want to blow this fucker off the track this year.” I watched his shadow pace, I could feel his energy reverberating off the walls in Robert’s little office. “God damn it, I need to drive man. Get me in a car.” I could hear his feet as he paced back and forth on the bare concrete floor. “Robert, I am ready to start testing. Let’s roll her out and see what the fuck she can do. I am tired of waiting.”
The sound of his pacing stopped, as did everything else. I heard the low rumblings of Robert but couldn’t make out what he was saying but he was clearly trying to calm Kelley. The office door swung open and he marched out with Uncle Robert on his heels. Pulling his cap on he looked over at me with wide eyes, “Let Clive know we are warming up and to open up a circuit.”
The garage was open and Kelley was prowling the pit. He was a sight to behold in his jumpsuit. A tight white undershirt stretched perfectly taught across his broad shoulders and strong back, the jumpsuit unzipped and hanging at his waist. His jaw was set, strong and determined and his mind was nowhere but on that car and the track. He paced around the car as they rolled it out, inspecting every inch, his eyes fixed. The long line of the nose, the wide tires, no livery just primed fiberglass, but she was still beautiful. He stood and talked with Robert while he pulled his jumpsuit over his shoulders and zipped in.
The lights came up as he climbed in and Robert handed him the steering wheel which he quickly secured while the crew started the engine with the most delicious roar. He turned and our eyes caught as I walked towards the open garage to get a front row seat at him taking off. He dropped his visor and waited for his chief to drop the signal.
My heart stopped for a moment and then started with a jolt as his car flew from the pit, bursting forth from a cloud of smoke and spark. The rumble vibrating everything behind him, turning my insides to jelly. He was not holding anything back, there was no slow start. I watched his car drift fluidly up the track and hug the wall as he went into the first curve and got further away from us. I wanted a better view so I ran in the garage and dashed up the two flights of stairs to the viewing box. I could see the whole track laid out from up here, and Kelley gliding around it, the roar of his lone car echoing off the concrete barriers. The whole back wall was glass, lending unobscured views of most of the track. In either corner, there were several televisions mounted that showed the track from various angles, as well as a cockpit cam. There was a row of chairs in front of the window but I preferred to stand and watch him.
The car cornered beautifully, he navigated the turns of the circuit like a master, always keeping the curve to the inside, hugging the wall, riding the crests. When he hit the straight and took off like a shot I felt my insides melt. The car glided along a wide curve, riding high, skirting the wall before he drifted down and took a series of turns, keeping her steady and tight. It seemed effortless and fluid, though I knew it wasn’t, it took a lot of strength to keep that machine right where you wanted her.
Kelley was having no trouble making her do just as he wanted. I paused for a moment on that thought, at the idea of Kelley’s hand on the wheel, guiding the car around the track. His strong grip, the quick motion as he switched gears. The way he drove her down the straight. Yep, he could make her do whatever he wanted. He ran three tight laps, there was joy in his driving and it tied me up in knots watching.
Garrett called him in and he took the last half lap weaving across the track, playing like a child who just found their long lost favorite toy. I headed back down to the garage to see him pulling in the pit and jumping out. He was hard to read until he pulled the helmet off and his smile was ear to ear.
“Fuck yeah!” He yelled as he slapped Robert on the back and tossed his helmet to Garrett. “Fuck, Robert, you sly dog it was worth the wait. She feels amazing, so tight. I felt a little resistance in the clutch and I’d like to play with the steering wheel but nothing we can’t fix. God, man that felt amazing. I fucking missed you man, I missed this track.” He looked back at me and the smile faltered for a moment before he turned back and murmured something to Robert. I watched Robert and the crew roll the car into the garage as Kelley stalked towards me, stripping his jumpsuit away from his shoulders.
“Come,” he motioned to me with a finger as be brushed by me. I watched him momentarily and then fell into step behind him, trailing him through the service garage and into the team’s offices and showroom.
He flipped a switch and the lights popped on like dominoes, one after the other, illuminating the stark white warehouse. It was like a clean room, gleaming, polished white floors ceilings and walls. Then there were the cars; two rows that seemed to go on for a mile. Chassis from previous years, development cars, winning cars; a museum to Cooper racing. It was hard not to be totally overwhelmed, awestruck at the sight of all the history, of the sheer horsepower that sat on the floor. Lined up like beauties in a pageant, each one more beautiful than the last. I walked between them inspecting the cockpits, the seats, the gages. I ran my fingers across the rubber of the tires, the tread rough and dense. I was so lost in the sight of all the cars that I didn’t notice he had stopped and was wa
tching me. I looked up to see his eyes on me, a small grin at the side of his mouth.
“I forget what it’s like to look at these cars through fresh eyes.” He closed the gap between us and walked with me to the next car in line. A car I would recognize no matter how much time had passed. I stopped and ran my hand along the body. I looked down into the seat, at the controls and gages, he would have used. “Do you know whose car this is?” He asked quietly, coming to my side.
“I would know it anywhere.” I imagined my Dad sitting there, explaining the gages like he did every time he got into a new car. When I was very small he would even let me sit on his lap, but that didn’t last long, there wasn’t much room for anything but the driver in an F1 cockpit.
“It’s a shame he never got to drive it. We were really building something,” he said quietly, mostly to himself. “We had big plans.” He looked off into the garage before looking back at me and snapping back to the moment. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“No, Kelley, it’s fine. Really, please don’t worry. It has been a long time.” I reached out and grabbed his hand, shocking the both of us. We looked down at our clasped hands, then up at each other.
“I miss your Dad.” His strong voice was quiet and it tugged at something deep and I bit into my cheek to stop my lip from trembling. I looked up at him and it was like looking at an 18-year-old Kelley. His eyes were soft and sincere and unworn in that moment, and I too felt like the little girl who lost her dad. It was dull, but it was there, that sucking grief. The profound sadness that never really went away because I was too young to understand it. It made me feel oddly comforted that Kelley missed my dad. It was a connection we shared and I was glad we still did. It meant he really loved my dad, and hopefully, it meant that he really loved us, once upon a time.
“So do I,” I said softly before dropping his hand. He watched me for a moment and nodded pulling my attention away from my Dad’s old car. He walked to the other side of the warehouse, all the way to the back of the line and I followed. There, parked under no lights, pushed into the corner was the cart, my cart. The cart Kelley and Daddy taught me how to take the hills in. She looked exactly the same, still wore my stripe, a double pink racing stripe straight down the nose, and my number on the door. Well, my dad’s number, 9.
“It looks so small.” I rounded the cart and was amazed at how different it looked from an adult’s perspective. It felt huge when I was young, powerful and dangerous. Standing before my kicky little cart now all I saw was a novelty, a child’s toy that was never really what I thought it was. I looked around at the real cars. Those that had been driven, those that had won, those that never made it out of the garage and those that had been won as prizes. This was my Daddy’s heaven, and for this moment, here I was, standing in the middle of it. I looked up at Kelley who was still watching me, his face hard, his eyes quizzical.
“How does it feel to be back here after all this time?” I didn’t know how to answer that. Being among the cars was exhilarating, seeing dad’s car hurt a little, but it also made me happy and standing here in front of Kelley, well, I had been waiting for this for ten long years, yet I still didn’t know how to answer. He didn’t seem to see anything in me except for that little girl, if he was actually seeing me at all. I was becoming more and more convinced that when he looked at me all he was really seeing was my Dad.
“I’m happy to be back, I’ve missed this, all of it.” He pulled in a deep breath and nodded before turning his back and walking into a darkened office, flipping on the light as he entered.
“How does it feel to have me back?” I asked quietly, following him. He turned on me swiftly, his face unreadable, “odd.” He left me stunned and turned away from me just as quickly. “Come,” he called as he grabbed a tube of blueprints and moved to a drafting table, switching on the small desk lamp. He unrolled the plans and motioned for me to come closer. “These were our plans,” he looked sideways at me, “your Dads and Robert’s and mine. That summer we put these plans away, I didn’t think I would ever see them again. Your uncle has managed to work out our bugs. It’s fitting that you came back this season. This is the year we finally get to run your father’s car.”
He pointed out every little change, every modification and upgrade. He gushed about the chassis and the new computer, his face was lit with excitement as he ran his big finger across the delicate paper, his mouth in an enthusiastic half smile as he talked about the new, lighter body. His enthusiasm was infectious and I caught myself smiling like an idiot when he looked up at me. I quickly dropped the smile from my face and nodded in a more serious manner. He smiled wide and cocked his head, inspecting me with a new curiosity
“You have grown into a very beautiful young lady, Kiki.” His compliment knocked me back, one, because I liked it, I was glad that he noticed, but two, because the phrase ‘Young lady’ I didn’t like. The words may have sounded nice but they didn’t feel nice. He was barely seven years older than me. The phrase rubbed me wrong and I just looked at him for a moment before I retorted like a jerk.
“You don’t have to look so surprised.” I straightened up, he straightened as well and continued to rise heads above me as he did. He kept his hands on the drafting table but his eyes were squarely on me.
“I’m not surprised kid, just making an observation.” He narrowed his eyes, “no need to get defensive. I won’t make that mistake again.” Fuck!
“Please stop calling me, kid,” I whispered. He smiled widely, amused at my evident irritation, watching my face turn shades of red as I tried to steady myself. I hated that he saw me that way, kid, it made me livid. Made me want to jump his bones and show him how much of a woman I really was, yet I was getting the distinct feeling that he wasn’t looking at me that way, at all. He was seeing me only as…Kiki, that twelve-year-old girl who used to follow him and my Dad around the track. Here I was, a fully formed woman, standing right in front of him and the fucker couldn’t even see me for what I was.
I examined him for a moment, his easy smile, the bulge of his arms as he crossed them over his chest, cocky. The glint in his wicked eyes, the dimple that hovered beneath the surface of his right cheek. I looked at him and wondered which of us was really stuck in the past? Was it him, looking at me like a little girl, which I clearly wasn’t, or was it me, looking at him through the eyes of that twelve-year-old girl. It all seemed so menial as I broke it down in my head. I was being ridiculous, acting like a child, proving him right. I straightened up and let out a small chuckle that he mirrored, and vowed to try and let it all go.
The garage cleared out quickly as the crew was heading to a pub for celebratory drinks. Kelley offered to take me back to Roberts on his way, I guessed that meant I wasn’t invited, so I took him up on his offer, wanting to spend more time with him. He took one last look at my dad’s car as he flipped off the lights and we pulled the garage door down. He tossed a helmet to me and swung his leg over the seat of his bike and it roared to life as if it had been waiting for him.
“Climb on, kid!” He called as he rolled the throttle, his mouth cocked in half a grin that made my belly roll. I pulled the helmet over my hair and secured the strap beneath my chin before I got my toe in the foothold and swung my leg up and over the bike behind him. I slid forward immediately, my body pressed up against his hard back. He felt amazing “Put your arms around me!” He called and I wrapped my arms around his waist, lacing my fingers in front of him, just barely. He tossed an amused grin over his shoulder before calling, “Hold on!” and he took off out of the pits and through the turnstile, out through the parking lot and onto the main road.
The ride was exhilarating; the air was just cooling, the sun beginning to disappear behind the horizon. Huge weeping trees cast lovely dancing shadows as we rode on nearly deserted roads and all the while my hands were wound tightly around Kelley’s waist.
I had my cheek pressed to his back, the rope of his muscles pulling as he held the bike steady. I closed
my eyes and listened to the sounds of the road , my arms wrapped around the boy of my dreams. I longed to open my hands and splay my fingers across the hard planes of his chest, but I resisted. I wanted to squeeze him tightly to me, but I resisted. I felt the rise and fall of his breathing and the lean of his body as we turned into the drive of Robert and Ina’s house. Ina’s car was in the drive but Robert had gone on to the pub. He pulled the bike just to the front walk and switched her off, the lack of rumble from the engine snapping me back to reality. I sat for a moment, my arms still wrapped around his waist, not wanting the moment to end, not wanting to let him go.
“Hop off, kid.” And there it was, the end of the moment. I twisted and threw my leg over the bike, trying to look as graceful as possible but falling swiftly to my ass, my palms pockmarked by the gravel, my ego bruised by Kelley’s laughter.
He dismounted gracefully, as was to be expected, a shining humor filled grin on his face. He pulled me up with both hands and watched while I dusted myself off, my face surely ten shades of beet red. When I looked up at him, he was no longer laughing. He was merely…watching. His eyes were softer, his mouth less stiff. I licked my lips and could have sworn I saw his chest heave.
The moment had swelled to a point where the air was being sucked directly from my lungs. The looked in his eyes, seething with heat, threatening to burn me down when he leaned close and I could smell him. He radiated warmth, his skin smelled like man. It was the only way to describe it, the essence of pure male, raw and masculine, sweat and motor oil and leather. I didn’t know what it was, I couldn’t put my finger on it but I liked it, I needed it.
I waited, waited for him to kiss me, wanted him to kiss me. His strong fingers twisted a tendril of my hair and he tucked it behind my ear, cocking his head slightly to the left. This was the moment! I closed my eyes and craned my neck, reaching towards him, waiting for his lips to meet mine and nothing. I opened my eyes to find his fixed on me. He stepped back and took his hands with him, his head shaking ever so slightly, his mouth twisting and turning in a difficult thought before his lips part and snap shut again.
The Curve Page 4