The Curve

by Noelle Bodhaine

  “Sorry Kiki,” he paused on my name, “this,” his hand moved in the space between us, “is not going to happen.” He straightened his back and crossed his arms and my mind yelled, Not going to happen? I stared back at him for a moment as the words sunk in. I didn’t want to hear him, first because I hated that I was so transparent, second, I felt something. It made my skin prickle when he was close, made my heart race. I thought he felt it too, I was sure he felt it too. I made it through years of awkward pubescent hell, to get to this point of self-acceptance. I hated my freckles and my curly brown hair. I was short and pale and developed curves before any of my friends. It was obscene really

  I was invisible until I wasn’t and then I was teased mercilessly, until the year when I suddenly became Dale Love’s ‘teenage’ daughter. Over the course of a summer, all of the sudden, all of the boys knew who I was; I was notorious and didn’t understand why. After that summer I never had trouble. I also never had much interest or time, but I never had trouble.

  Standing in front of Kelley the hypocrite, Mr. New woman on his arm in every country; Mr. The younger the better Peter Pan, never grow up, fuck any beautiful thing that moves; I was annoyed, but I wasn’t going to let him see it. I knew there was something here, something strong and undeniable. No, I was no model or socialite, but I had the basic measurements, and we had history. I had watched him, had seen the pictures almost weekly, I knew who he was.

  I took a step back and smiled, incensed but not about to let him see it. I just shook my head in agreement and took a deep breath before I curled the corner of my mouth in a sweet grin and shrugged.

  “You’re right,” I managed and took a few steps back. “You’re probably too old for me anyhow.” I looked him dead in the eyes, hoping it hurt, waiting for a response. He stared me down, his dark eyes holding me in place and in two steps, his long legs brought him to me. He lowered his head and put his mouth to my ear. His warm, rough voice sending a tremor down my spine that I failed to fight off.

  “Too much for you.” He whispered before turning on a heel and striding proudly to his bike. He didn’t turn back or give me another look, not even a glance in his mirrors. He tore out of the driveway kicking gravel up behind him, the roar of his bike fading into the trees and I didn’t move until he was out of sight.

  Chapter 6

  Making it Hard

  I pulled off my helmet and saw Kelley coming towards me. He didn’t look at all menacing, not at first, but I should have read his mood. Everyone from the crew systematically moved far out of his path while he pounded the pavement towards me. His fists were clenched at his sides and his jaw was tight. I could see it moving back and forth as he ground his teeth against each other. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at me but never said a word. He just grabbed me by the elbow and swung me around, leading me into the garage, and away from the safety of the crew.

  “Kelley, wait,” I tried to tear my arm from his grip but his fingers tightened and he didn’t lose a step.

  “Out!” He roared at the remaining crew as we got deeper into the garage, his hand still tight around my arm. He slapped a button on the back wall and the large garage door began to sink as people scurried from the space, eclipsing the shocked crew, eclipsing Robert as he yelled to Kelley.

  “Kelley, let’s talk about this!” The door closed, trapping us, trapping me, keeping them out. He looked down at me and just shook his head before pulling me into his office. I pulled back on my arm, trying to get him to stop, trying to get his attention but he kept going, dragging me behind him. He shut the door and pulled the blinds. We could no longer see out, and nobody could see in. He paced the space for what felt like forever, back and forth, back and forth. Each time he slowed and looked at me before continuing, always murmuring under his breath, yet not a word to me. I didn’t dare move, I just waited. When he finally stopped in front of me his eyes could have turned me to cinder. He took a deep breath and tried to soften his face, but failed.

  “That,” he gestured behind him with a finger, “that is my car,” he growled.

  “Yes, I know,” I whispered.

  “You were in my car, Makayla.” The sound of my whole name coming from his lips did a funny thing to me. My stomach did a flip. I felt chided, knew I was in trouble, yet it gave me a thrill. “Nobody fucking drives my car.”

  “I’m sorry,” I started, taking a step closer but he threw his hands up as a wall and stopped. “Kelley, I’m sorry,” he shut me down with fury in his eyes and I tried not to shrink. “If you would just talk to Robert.”

  “Ha!” He burst out. “Talk to Robert. Why the fuck would I need to talk to Robert, huh? Because he has some bright idea of you being my development driver? Not a fucking chance, kid.” I winced from his cruel words.

  “Don’t call me kid,” I whispered, but he didn’t relent, I doubt he even fucking heard me.

  “I wondered why on earth he hadn’t talked to me about the development team. Why he was being so damn cagey. I should have known the moment you showed up.” His intense gaze anchored me to the spot on which I stood and I could do nothing but listen. “You aren’t tested, you are too young, and you’re Dale Love’s daughter for fucks sake. No!” He threw his hands in the air and I flinched. “This is not going to happen Makayla, not on my watch. You find something else to do with your time, find another team to drive for. You. Cannot. Drive. Here.”

  His face was stone and I tried to pull some of that strength, some of that stoic behavior but he was ripping my dreams from my very hands. I wanted to scream and beat his chest, I wanted to tell him how wrong he was. I didn’t want to hear a word he said but for whatever reason, I just stood there as he monologued.

  “Good Lord, how stupid can he be?” He began to pace again and I watched, fighting back tears. “You are Dale’s daughter, that alone marks you, and you’re a woman. Hello? Are we breaking ground here? Jesus,” he muttered to himself. “People would think we are pulling some sort of publicity stunt, or worse, think of me as some …. Pig.” He turned on a heel and faced me.

  “You could be hurt,” his voice got urgent as he rushed to me and took my face in his hands, the look in his eyes frantic. He cupped my face and sucked in a breath. “You could be killed,” he whispered softly before dropping his hands in a rush and pacing away just as quickly, his voice once again booming. “The press would have a field day with this; driving his car, his daughter as my test, his brother as my chief.” He dropped his head, his hand rubbing at his right temple.

  “This is supposed to be my year, damn it.” He turned back to me with a question in his eyes, but he didn’t ask it.

  I didn’t know what to say. I was dumbfounded and tongue-tied. I just stood and watched him wear himself out. Listened to him until he had no more to say. He went back and forth between anger and concern, torn and unsure. He didn’t talk much to me, just at me, and I took it, never uttering a word.

  “Come here,” he commanded as he sat down and before I knew I was doing it, I was moving towards him. “Here,” he said pointing to the ground between his legs. I stopped next to him and he tipped his chin, looked me square in the eyes and again pointed his finger to the ground just between his legs. “I said here,” he muttered through gritted teeth. I winced at his tone and defied him with my eyes, folding my arms across my chest. He reached out, wound his long arm around my waist and pulled me to him, placing me reluctantly right upon the spot he wanted me to heel for him naturally. I looked over his head for a moment, not wanting to make eye contact, unable.

  My eyes dropped to him when I heard him sigh. His eyes softened slightly and he sat forward in his chair. I remained impassive as he gently tugged my arms away from my chest, and I let them drop at my sides. He reached up and grasped the zipper on my jumpsuit, watching me, as I watched him.

  “This doesn’t even fit you,” he murmured. With one hand resting on my hip, he gently pulled the zipper down, painfully slow, all the way to my waist.
I labored to keep my breath steady as I watched him. His nostrils flared only minutely before he turned a cool eye on me. He stood tall and as he did, slid his hands up over my shoulders, under the jumpsuit and slipped the sleeves slowly down my arms. His touch was soft and deliberate, apologetic, his thumbs gliding down the silky fabric of my undershirt, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. He looked down on me, and I could see the fight in his eyes, the turmoil he was holding so tightly to, but I didn’t move.

  He ran his hands back up my arms and wound them behind my neck, his fingers tangled in my hair. He tipped my head with his thumbs and looked at my lips then looked at my eyes. I looked into his dark eyes, and then to his lips. Fuck, I needed him to kiss me, to swallow this tension that felt like it was going to kill me. I wanted to taste his mouth, to feel those lips. They turned up into a grin and POW, that dimple made my knees weak. When I looked back at his eyes they were smiling. “Why is this so hard,” he muttered?

  “You’re making it hard,” I whispered back, wrapping my fingers around his wrists, not wanting him to let me go, but it was too late, he had already recovered himself.

  “No,” he snapped, taking his hands from my neck and lowering his face to mine. “You’re making it hard, Kiki. You always have.” I watched his back as he walked out the door and left me standing all alone.

  I didn’t see him for days after that, and Robert advised me to stay away from the track until he could convince him, gave me a week off and sent me packing. I didn’t really want to go, but Ina volunteered to come along and I couldn’t rob her of a trip, however, quick and contrived it was. She loved to travel, it was one of the reasons she so easily followed Uncle Robert around Europe from team to team all these years. But he was keen to settle down and she still had exploring to do. He was always so busy with the cars, whether off season or on if they weren’t traveling for a race, he just wasn’t interested.

  I packed a small rolling bag and listened to Ina lay out our three-day itinerary. First, we were going to take the ferry across to Calais then on to Paris where we planned to eat our way through the Fifth district and hit any museum that struck us, then on the train and off to unknown stops. She had pinpointed a few villages along the way but after Paris, she just wanted to wing it and I was fine with that. Our unofficial destination being Amsterdam, which is where we would catch a plane and return home. All in all, it sounded like a perfect quick trek to me and I was glad to have the company, even if I was incensed that I was essentially being pushed off the island by a grown man throwing a tantrum. Kelley’s words were stuck in my head, ‘you always made everything hard’ what was he talking about? No matter what I did I couldn’t shake those words.

  The first morning in Paris, Ina and I sat at a sidewalk café along a busy Paris boulevard. I sipped a café latte and watched the crowds while Ina plotted a shopping day and that’s when I saw him. Through a sea of people, he would be easily spotted by any woman with eyes. I watched him through the crowd, he was gorgeous, Parisian perfection personified. His tall frame was covered in a finely tailored suit a charcoal pea coat over the top. His jaw was square and strong, his tan skin smooth and flawless, his lips full and ripe. He ran his hand through his inky black waves as he approached the café, smiling sweetly and looking directly at me. I turned and looked behind me to see who else he could have been smiling at, only to find a business man with his head buried in a newspaper and the back of a very large woman who was feeding her dog the remnants of a croissant. When I turned back around he was gone. My heart sunk a bit at the loss of my Parisian apparition but I just went back to people watching and my latte. I was just starting to get tangled up in thoughts of Kelley when I heard Ina clear her throat.

  “Luc!” She exclaimed. I glanced up to find my Parisian apparition standing before me, a café au lait in one hand and a small china plate with a chocolate croissant in the other. My brows knitted together of their own accord, that is until Ina caught my eye. She rose and kissed him on both cheeks and he greeted her in kind. “Makayla, this is Luc,” she said with a coy smile, “he is a financier,” she carried on. “He used to work with Robert. I hear you’re working with Lotus, is that right?” They exchanged pleasantries in French that I did not understand before she retook her seat, just out of his line of sight, nodding and raising her eyebrows like a loon. I swear if she were a man she would be whistling and cat calling. He smiled and placed the croissant in front of me on our little table.

  “Pain au chocolate,” he gestured pulling a chair up to the table and taking a seat. He reached for my hand that wasn’t wrapped around my coffee cup and brought it to his mouth, brushing his soft lips ever so gently against the back of my hand. “Bonjour mon a mi, so lovely to meet you, Makayla.” I looked up at Ina and shrugged, totally caught off guard, not to mention I didn’t speak a fucking word of French. I just smiled back at him and tried to take my hand back but he placed his other hand over mine. “Such a beautiful woman should not deprive herself of the best pain au chocolate in all of Paris.” He spoke in English with that silken French accent and I think I melted right there on the Parisian sidewalk. They conversed for a long while, floating in and out between French and English as I listened in confusion. When they laughed I laughed, trying to keep up. He seemed very charming and Ina seemed to know him well enough. He moved in the racing circles my Parisian apparition, my mysterious financier.

  “Right,” Ina said as she stood from the table. “I am just wiped,” she said with a grin and a wink. “Makayla, dear I think I would like to go take a nap before we shop.”

  “Um, ok.” I went to stand up but Luc wrapped his fingers around my hand.

  “No, Makayla stay,” Ina said collecting her things. “You enjoy Paris this afternoon, Luc will show you around. I will be fine and we will meet up in a few hours.” She bent down and put her lips to my ear. “A French distraction is just what Ina ordered,” she whispered before planting a quick kiss on my cheek and she was gone, and there it was. This was a setup, yet as I looked upon Luc’s chiseled good looks, his wavy black hair, his designer clothes and impeccable manners I thought , what the hell, when in Paris.

  Turns out this was more than a casual set up, Ina was a plotter. We got more familiar over our coffees. I informed him that even though I had never yet been to Paris, I had no desire to go to the Louvre or the Eiffel tower. He didn’t seem bothered as he suggested the Musee Rodin, which made me giddy. We spent the afternoon walking the grounds of the museum amongst the sensually stunning sculptures of lovers in the clutches of one another. I studied Rodin, Art history was my passion and the only thing that kept me from losing my mind through all the tediously dry studies of numbers, economics, and finance that made up my major.

  Ina and I never made it shopping; she called and conveniently suggested that Luc and I share dinner as she was feeling under the weather. She was a shit liar, but I was having fun with Luc, and I figured there was no better tour guide for an afternoon in Paris than a Parisian. After the museum, we did a bit of shopping. He took me to a little perfume maker that was down a side street on our way to the bistro he suggested. The little shop was non-descript from the outside, just one arched doorway of many in the big brick building. The only thing setting it apart was the small wooden sign that swung above the door, Parfumerie.

  After he introduced me to the owner, who he seemed to know well, I mingled while they chatted. As I wandered around the small space I wondered about Luc, how many women he brought here or to other little places like it. I wondered if this was one of his ‘moves’. I had to admit, it was a good one. Offering a girl her own scent, a signature perfume from a real French perfumery that felt a hundred years old. I couldn’t think of anything more perfectly romantic.

  How incredibly thoughtful, how very calculated it was. I smiled to myself knowing, as I felt Luc sidle up behind me, careful to maintain my personal space, yet close enough that I could feel him, smell him, just like he wanted I guessed. It had become clear as the
day went on that he was well practiced, but I didn’t have a problem with it. He was a gentleman, even if for less than gentlemanly motives. This didn’t really bother me, I had no designs on Luc or what he was selling, and I was sure he wouldn’t be all that bothered by that fact. He seemed like the kind of man that had a willing woman in every district, but I couldn’t fault him for that. He was sexy as hell, smooth as silk and fucking French.

  I decided to splurge on what turned out to be a micro bottle of personal perfume mixed just for me. Rose hips and orange flower, it was strong and floral and old fashioned and I loved it. Luc offered to pay but I refused. If anyone was going to pay for my signature scent it would be me.

  We shared a bottle of Beaujolais and talked about racing in a bistro he chose. Another clear indicator of his dating Modus Operandi. He was no slouch, I’ll admit. This day, his whole, I’m French and naturally romantic, thing would have totally worked on me, hook line and sinker, if I wasn’t so totally distracted by chocolate brown eyes and a pair of strong shoulders.

  When Luc walked me back to the hotel he went to kiss me, and I let him. His lips were soft at first and he tasted like the chocolate soufflé we had shared. It was nice, it felt good to be held in a man’s arms, and he definitely turned me on. His lips ground against mine and I let him take me a little bit further down the path. He wrapped his arm around my back and pulled me into him as he pulled away briefly, tipping my chin, turning his head and he laid his lips on mine again. I let him press against me until I felt his hand come up and cup my breast. I shrugged away from him as we closed the kiss and thanked him for the wonderful day.