by Hailey Smoke
Hailey Smoke
Race To You
Copyright © 2020 by Hailey Smoke
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.
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Contents
1. Serena
2. Connor
3. Serena
4. Connor
5. Serena
6. Connor
7. Serena
8. Connor
9. Connor
10. Serena
11. Serena
12. Connor
13. Serena
14. Connor
15. Serena
16. Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Hailey Smoke
1
Serena
“Mr. Murphy! Not today! I want nothing to do with you! All you ever bring me is havoc and I’m just not into it with you today! Ugh!” I slammed my hand down on the hood of my car as I listened to the engine purring. That would have been a good sound to hear, an excellent sound to hear, if I were on the inside of the car, behind the steering wheel, instead of looking at the locked doors and listening to the running engine.
“Blimey! Chaos, you must have woken up with Serena Bishop at the top of your list this morning.” I continued to mutter to myself. I tossed my dark long straight hair over my shoulder as I dug into my bag for my cell phone.
What on earth had possessed me to leave the car running while I went inside to grab the gift bag, I had left in the hall closet? Wouldn’t common sense have told me to shut the car off and get what I had to do done? Well, firstly, common sense would have told me not to forget the gift in the first place so that I wouldn’t have had to hightail it home less than an hour before I was to be at the party. The silver lining in that was I had had a showing close to my own home in Brixton and hadn’t taken the tube into London to my office as I would usually have done.
I looked upward as a rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. I placed my hand on my head and closed my eyes. Mr. Murphy was having a field day living up to his reputation of letting anything that could go awry in my life at that moment go completely off-kilter.
“Why me?” My shoulders slumped in defeat. Why not use the spare key one might ask. Well, the spare key could be used if it were not on the same ring as the key in the ignition. I now understood the method to other people’s madness in not even driving with their spare. But I was Serena Bishop. Articulate, educated, smart. I was not the kind of person to make a fumble like this.
As a light breeze kicked up heralding a possible spring shower, I headed back inside. There were no two ways about it. I would have to call a locksmith.
I took off my coat, scarf, and gloves as I flipped through the phone book in the entryway. I took a seat and dialed the first locksmith number that caught my attention. I was just about to hang up after the fifth ring when the line came to life.
“Locks King, the kings of all things lock and unlocking. How may I help you?”
“Hi. I’ve locked my keys in my car. Would you be able to make a trip out to Wallis’s Cottages close to Sullina Road to assist me please?”
“Wallis’s Cottages you say?”
There was a pause on the line. I heard a muffled conversation on the other end with the word’s ‘car’, ‘locked’ and ‘Wallis’s’ thrown in at intervals. I huffed impatiently as I checked my watch. Time was going. After what seemed like an eternity but was a minute the disembodied voice spoke again.
“That would be about ten minutes, miss.”
I thought about the ten-minute drive I had to get to my destination. Ten minutes for help to get to me would be cutting it a bit close but at this point, it was better than nothing.
“That’s fine.”
I gave the address then sat down to wait for the ten minutes. This was one of the things I loved about living where I did in Brixton. Most places were a short walk or ride away. Had this been in London I would have been up the proverbial creek without a paddle. I fiddled with my phone as I waited. I was pleased when a mere nine minutes after I had called a white van with a large key and a company logo emblazoned on the side pulled up to the gate. I put on back my jacket, scarf, and gloves and grabbed my handbag and the damned gift bag that had put me in this predicament in the first place. As I stepped out to meet them, I ensured that I had my house keys in my hand before I locked the front door. A flip here and a tug there had my door open in a jiffy. I ignored the pointed look as the young man saw both car keys on the same ring. He went back to his hand for the card machine and handed me a keyring with their logo.
“It’s best to keep them separate, miss. That way you don’t get yourself in this sort of pickle again.”
I arched a well-groomed brow. “I would think that my getting into this sort of a predicament is good for your line of business now isn’t it.”
He simply shrugged and swiped my card. I signed where required and the deal was done. I took a few moments to slip the spare key from the ring and onto the new ring before slipping it into my pocket. My lesson was well learned.
A glance at the clock on the dashboard showed three-thirty. It turned out I would not be as late as I thought I would have been in the first place. My destination was a lovely townhouse on Mordaunt street. I would make it just before rush hour traffic started to pile up from the early afternoon commuters coming in from London and picking up their cars at Brixton Station to return home.
As I pulled up on the street, I could see a line of vehicles already parked. I found a spot and walked as comfortably as I could in high heeled boots. The cool April weather was refreshing, and I was happy to see that the dark clouds which had gathered earlier had begun to dissipate, leaving behind just a hint of rain in the air.
I found Lucy’s house and rang the bell.
“Serena! I was beginning to wonder if you’d make it!”
I smiled ruefully at the bubbly blonde girl.
“I almost didn’t.”
Her brow creased with worry. “What happened?”
I shushed her quickly. “I just pulled a Clumsy Clementine and locked myself out of the bloody car. I had to get a locksmith out. He had me on my way in a jiffy. I’m here!” I shrugged my shoulders and chuckled. “Where’s my birthday boy?”
“Back patio with his friends. I’ll take this from you while you say hi. You can take off your stuff as well. We put up a tent cover for the party so it’s nice and warm out there.”
Dutifully I handed over the bag and my outer garments. I placed my bag crossway so that it rested comfortably on my hip then made my way through the house I had sold just under a few months ago. Lucy had been working for me as my assistant for the past five years. I had taken her on as a newlywed and new mother. Quite a few folks had told me she wouldn’t last
with all her challenges of being a new wife and mother at only age eighteen. Within a year I knew that hiring her had been one of the best decisions of my life. She was highly organized and smart and meticulous to a T. She was like my second brain. When the three-bedroom townhouse had come up on my listing and the price range was where she and her husband Matt could set their target, I immediately put it under contract. They had moved in before last Christmas.
As I made my way to the patio, I exchanged greetings with some of the other adults who lingered inside. Outside I found my godson as the center of attention.
“Is there someone here having a birthday today?”
“Auntie Serena!” Joel squealed and dashed out of his circle of friends. He threw himself into my arms and I laughed and swung him around once before putting him back on the ground. I was fit but he was getting heavier each year. “Happy Birthday my love. Has it been a good day so far?
I took his hands as he babbled on about the big red car he had found at the foot of his bed when he woke up and all the presents, he had seen his mum and dad putting on the big table.
“What did you get me, Auntie Serena?”
“I’ll wait for you to open it, love. Now go back and play with your friends. It’s almost cake time.” I smiled as the little boy dashed back to his friends. Joel was a little sweetheart. Physically he was the perfect blend of Lucy and Matt. He had inherited Lucy’s straw blonde hair and Matt’s green eyes. But his personality was all his own. As always, I felt a little twinge whenever I found myself in a setting like this. But I brushed it aside.
I made my way back inside to give Lucy a hand. Quite a few more persons were arriving and milling around inside. I moved aside as a pair of twins who had just arrived dashed past me. I felt that twinge again as I looked at their chocolate mocha skin which was the exact shade of my complexion. I gave myself a mental shake.
“Today is not the day for it, Serena. Focus girl.”
I looked around the living area at the adults who milled around. I smelled a prime networking opportunity and was about to dig into my bag for business cards when Lucy opened the door and all thoughts of drumming up business for my already successful real estate business fled from my head.
Stepping into the house was a man of no mean order. His hair was the shade of midnight. The straight locks were thick and begged for fingers to run through them. They brushed the nape of his collar which was opened at the neck. I glimpsed a hint of curls before the shirt which he wore hid the rest of whatever lay there. He held a huge box wrapped with a big bow in his hands. They were strong muscular hands. As he took off his jacket, he rolled his sleeves up slightly and from where I stood a few feet away I saw a healthy dusting of dark hair. I loved a man with hair. He smiled down at Lucy as he handed over the box and I was treated to a vision of stark white teeth and a dimple in his left cheek. As the box left his hands the rest of his torso came into view and I felt my heart skip a beat. The shirt clung to his chest like a second skin. The hem disappeared into his tight jeans. His stomach was flat and his thighs muscular. I saw his legs begin to move closer and closer and realized in shock that Lucy had taken Mr. Greek god by the hand and was leading him over… to me! I barely had time to hide the fact that I had been staring.
“Serena, I’d like you to meet my brother, Connor. Connor, my boss Serena. Chit chat why don’t you. I’ve got to go play hostess.”
With that Lucy dashed off leaving me in the presence of the most perfect specimen of the male gender I had ever had the fortune to bless my eyes on in a long time. I took a deep breath and held it. Damn! He even smelled good. I smiled widely and held out my hand.
“Serena Bishop.” I gave him my hand.
“Connor King at your service.”
“Pleased to meet you.”
“So, you’re Lucy’s boss. She told the family how you got Matt and her a sweet deal on this baby.”
He placed his hand on the small of my back as he steered us out of the direct path of those who needed to move around. I took a seat at the breakfast counter while he poured us some juice. He made a slight face.
“I guess there won’t be anything stronger with so many children around.”
I shook my head ruefully and smiled. I took a sip. “It’s not that bad.”
“If you’re a four-year-old. But when you’re twenty plus four something stronger is usually in order don’t you think.”
I kept the smile pasted firmly on my face even as I felt my heart plummet slightly. He was only twenty-four? Damn! That was six years too young for me. But he certainly didn’t look it. I cocked my head to the side and looked him over once again. He must have been joking.
“You don’t look like twenty-four. You seem more mature.”
He tilted his head to the side as well. “Well, you don’t look like…” He paused and I laughed. I wagged my finger at him.
“A lady never tells.”
He laughed. “It doesn’t hurt to try though.”
“So, what do you do for a living, Connor?”
“I’m a Formula 1 driver.”
My eyes bulged out. “A racecar driver? Isn’t that dangerous?”
He shrugged. “It’s not any more dangerous than you driving to work and having an accident. It just happens that my route to work is more collision prone and collision is encouraged.” I pulled a face and he laughed.
“It’s nice to know that you can make light of a grave matter such as the dangers of racing cars.”
“What can I say. I’ve loved it since I was Joel’s age. I can only hope that one day I’ll have a son of my own to pass the passion down to. But what about you? How did you get into real estate?”
My eyes lit up as they never failed to do whenever I thought of the agency, I had opened just seven years ago. “I like houses. I like walking through them and sort of absorbing their spirit and personality and connecting them with the right owners who will do right by them. I like to think of each listing and client as a personal matchmaking project. I get different kinds of houses in different places and different states of readiness for occupation. And I get clients in different states as well.”
He frowned and blinked his chocolate brown eyes. “What do you mean by that?”
“Take this for example.” I waved my hand around Lucy’s home. “Lucy and Matt are young, and they have a young child. This was lived in for just a year before being put on the market. So, the house itself is also young. They are just starting and don’t need anything bigger than this for now. A bedroom for themselves, one for Joel and a spare for Uncle Connor when he comes to visit.” He chuckled and I continued. “Basic. Young. Easy to maintain. Now when they get a little older and maybe add to their family this space will need to be expanded, or better yet they will need to find a bigger space. This house would then go to a family that was how they were in the beginning: young and fresh. Twenty and thirty years from now they would maybe downsize to something more suitable for empty nesters. Some people come to me with specific requests. Some want something they can work on like a project. They view it as therapy in a sense because it comes down to a case of them fixing the house while they fix themselves. Some persons are successful and want a home that reflects that success. Some are eclectic and want a home that is a mishmash of styles to reflect that. It just depends on the person.” I smiled self-consciously. “You can shut me up you know. I wouldn’t want to bore you with my real estate drivel.”
“On the contrary. I’m not bored at all. I’m rather intrigued.” He gave me a weird look. “What would you recommend for someone who is always on the go but wants to slow down, someone who just got out of a relationship that should have been heading towards marriage and settling down but instead ended up crashing and burning, someone who needs to start over?” He gazed deep into my eyes and I felt as if I was being pulled into a rich chocolate pool. I blinked and swallowed.
“That depends on several variables. Is this person looking to heal from the recent breakup?”
He shook his head. “Nah. No love lost there. It was for everyone’s good in the end.”
“Oh, that’s easy then. No fixer-uppers. It would come down to the overall vibe that the person wants to experience in the final selection.” I looked at him coyly from beneath my lashes. “Do you know someone who is in the market?”
“I sure do. He’s a twenty-four-year-old Formula 1 race car driver who lucked out to be at his nephew’s birthday party and just happened to be introduced to his sister’s boss who just happens to be an ace real estate agent. Do you know who I’m talking about?”
I pretended to give it some thought. “I might need a little more information.”
“Well, he’s desperate for a house because his girlfriend of three years suddenly decided she didn’t want children, so he left her in the house they had bought together and he’s now looking for something of his own. He’s currently holed up in a one-bedroom flat in Blenheim Gardens. It’s nice enough for a temporary stint but he’s always been one to want to put down roots. He knows that the fast-paced racing life will have to slow down if he wants to settle down with a family.”
I tapped my chin thoughtfully. “I think I know the fellow. He’s a bit of a fibber though. Claims to be only twenty-four when I’m sure he’s about thirty.” I dug around in my bag and brought up a business card. “When you see him, you can pass along my number. I’ll hook him right up. He may even get a discount since I hear his sister is a top-notch assistant to this ace real estate agent.”
He looked at the card. “What do you know. You have the same name as that agent. Serena Bishop.”
I laughed. “Seriously though Connor. I’d be more than happy to help you look for a house. It’s my passion and I’d welcome the project.”
He looked deep into my eyes. “I am serious Serena. So, you’ll find me something?”
“So am I and I certainly will. What kind of house are you looking for?”
“For starters, I’m thinking about three bedrooms and at least two bathrooms. A house, not a flat. Something with a garden. I love getting my hands dirty. And a bit of a backyard for summertime.” He grinned down at me. “For starters.”