Start Your Engines

by Jim Cangany

  “You’ve done an amazing job raising both your and the team’s profiles. People want to meet you. This is great publicity and strengthens our position to move up to the International Series next year.”

  Next year? Gabrielle’s cheeks got hot. “I’m sorry, Barbara. To be honest, I haven’t thought about next season.”

  “As it should be. It’s my job to be looking that far down the road. I could really use your help getting us there, though.” She looked at her watch. “We have time before our flight leaves. Let’s grab lunch and strategize.”

  The following evening, an exhausted Gabrielle kicked off her shoes and collapsed onto the bed. She was on her third outfit of the day, and now all she wanted was a tall glass of cold water with lemon and a bubble bath.

  A knock at the door and a call of room service brought those plans to a screeching halt.

  “I didn’t order anything. Are you sure you have the right room?”

  “Yes, miss. Your team director, Mr. Thomas, asked for it to be delivered to you.”

  The mention of Brad changed the equation. She opened the door as far as the safety latch would allow.

  And gazed upon Brad, who was grinning.

  “Surprise.” He wheeled in a cart laden with mouth-watering chicken fettuccini, heavenly smelling French bread, and a pitcher of ice water—with a tiny bowl of sliced lemons on the side. A perfect dinner.

  While they dined, she told him about her day. “Everything was incredible. We even landed an extra sponsor for this weekend. Barbara’s confident we can turn it into something bigger for next year.”

  Next year. For the first time in recent memory, she hadn’t been worrying about her next step. Now that she was settled in with the team, she was as happy as a kitten playing with a ball of yarn, and especially with Brad. And he was even taking care of her. Her dreams were actually falling into place.

  Brad insisted she take it easy while he cleaned up after dinner. “You’ve got another big day tomorrow. People are going to be watching to see if Chicago was a fluke or not.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “Damn straight, and tomorrow you’ll start to prove it. So,” he reached under the tablecloth that covered the cart and handed her a bottle of peppermint-scented bubble bath, “use this to unwind tonight.”

  Peppermint was her favorite. “How’d you know?”

  “I have my sources.” He brushed his lips against hers. “Shall I draw you a bath?”

  “Only if you share it with me. After such a stressful day, I could use your special touch to help me relax.”

  He drew close as he gave her a smile that left her knees weak. “Your wish is my command.”

  His warm breath on her neck caused her to break out in goose bumps. Oh yeah, a peppermint bubble bath was just what the doctor ordered.

  • • •

  From the moment she took to the course in her first practice session, Gabrielle felt at one with the car. She was beyond having to spend time learning how the machine would perform at each stop on the schedule. The team now knew her well enough to make it fast the moment it rolled off the transporter.

  She’d gotten to the point she could tell Scott what changes she wanted with a handful of words or a few hand gestures. They weren’t finishing each other’s sentences yet, but they were close.

  As for Brad? Things were almost at the too-good-to-be-true stage. The dinner surprise was one thing, but the bubble bath was a stroke of genius. She made a mental note to ask him about it. Even if it turned out Helen or Bridget tipped him off, the gesture was, beyond a doubt, the way to her heart.

  Rain moved in after the morning qualifying session, which led to a change in strategy when the go ahead was given to start the race.

  “The course is still soaked, so we’re going to start on rain tires. We’ll monitor track conditions and bring you in for slicks as soon as possible.” Brad rubbed the back of his neck. This would be Gabrielle’s, and the team’s, first time competing on the grooved tires used only for wet conditions.

  “I’ve raced in the wet before. No worries.” She gave him a peck on the cheek.

  He’d calmed her too many times to count during difficult on-track situations this season. It was the least she could do to return the favor. “I’ll talk to Scott, tell him what I need.”

  The chief engineer and the crew must have listened well, because once the green flag dropped, Gabrielle made a strong march to the front of the field. She took the lead on lap nine and had a three-second gap on her nearest competitor when her radio crackled to life.

  “The track’s dried out enough. Pit next time around for fresh tires.”

  Gabrielle growled in frustration but acknowledged the directive. It wasn’t that she disagreed with it. As the conditions dried out, the asphalt surface would eat up the soft-compound rain tires. What aggravated her was that she didn’t have a larger lead going into the pits.

  No matter. Pulling off win number two was going to be a simple matter of staying focused and avoiding silly mistakes.

  She pulled into her pit stall and took a deep breath as the crew went to work. The timer in her head reached eleven when Scott stepped aside and motioned her forward. The slick dry-weather tires squealed as she punched the accelerator.

  Once Gabrielle was up to speed, she keyed her radio. “What’s my position?”

  “P six, but everyone ahead of you needs to pit. Reset the—”

  With no warning, the left rear of Gabrielle’s car dropped. There was a horrifying screech of metal scraping against pavement. Adrenaline dumped into her veins as she jumped off the gas and fought the steering wheel to keep the car out of the wall. Cars flashed past her as she regained control. “What happened?”

  “Left rear came off. Try to bring it around, and we’ll see if we can get another one put on.”

  She banged her hand against the steering wheel. Everything had been going to plan. The car was good. The tire strategy had worked out perfectly. She had the race in the bag. And now a wheel fell off? Seriously?

  • • •

  The silence in the garage the first day back after the Montreal debacle was deafening. People shuffled from workstation to workstation, but conversation was nonexistent. To have a victory snatched away over such a stupid mistake made Brad want to puke.

  On the other hand, he was still in awe that Gabrielle managed to avoid crashing and nursed it to the pits in good enough shape they were able to put on a new wheel and get her back into the race.

  Gabrielle was one amazing woman.

  A bright spot to come out of the disaster was that Gabrielle didn’t get sick after the race. Brad hadn’t brought up the subject, and wouldn’t, but he was convinced it was a good sign. Of what, he wasn’t one hundred percent certain, but he wasn’t in the mood for over-analysis.

  Especially since the moment he entered his apartment, he made a sprint to the bathroom and got sick.

  On the trip home, he’d replayed video of the pit stop at least fifty times. The conclusion he couldn’t escape was what made him throw up. On top of that, it was gut wrenching to think what his suspicions would do to Gabrielle.

  This was between him and one other person.

  Troy.

  He found his suspect cleaning tools at the back of the shop.

  “I need a word with you in the conference room.” Brad kept his voice neutral to prevent attracting attention.

  “I’m in the middle of—”

  “Now.” Brad walked away, in no mood for games.

  Troy’s eyes darted back and forth when Brad closed the conference room door. “If this is about Saturday, I already said I’m sorry. Everything was wet.”

  Brad sat across from him. He folded his hands on the table and stared at his adversary. That’s how he now thought of Troy. His adversary.

  “And yet, the other three tire changers didn’t have any trouble.” He pushed a button on a remote control, and a video screen at the end of the room dropped from the ceiling. “Le
t’s take a look.”

  After watching a close-up video of Troy during the stop three times, Brad pushed the pause button. The man across the table didn’t blink.

  “You know what I think?” When Troy shrugged, Brad counted to five. “I think you did it on purpose. You wanted that wheel to fall off.”

  “Seriously?” Troy raised his eyebrows. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. I don’t know what your problem is, but—”

  “My problem is you’ve been sabotaging this operation ever since we fired your buddy, Chas.” Brad got to his feet and leaned on the table. “How about some more proof?”

  He pushed the pause button again. Images of Troy making a handful of odd mistakes during various races played across the screen. Each one seemed innocuous enough if viewed alone, but strung together, the images painted an incriminating picture of incompetence at least, and willful misconduct at worst.

  “You’re a psycho.” Troy headed for the door, but Brad beat him to it.

  “And you’re a horrible liar.”

  “You’ve got nothing on me, man. Let me guess. You’re getting some action from Gabrielle, right? Now you gotta find somebody to blame when she messes up since she doesn’t belong in that car in the first place. Am I right?”

  Brad took the smaller man by the arms and shoved him against the wall, using his six-three frame to loom over him. “Don’t you ever talk about Gabrielle Marquez, or any woman, that way again. She’s in that seat because she knows ten times more about racing a car than Chas Thornton will ever know.”

  “Whatever.” Troy pushed Brad away and balled his hands into fists. “You want the truth? Yeah, I did it. Firing Chas was your biggest mistake ever. Women don’t belong in a car racing against men. Chas deserves to win the championship, and I’ve been doing my part to make sure he wins it. It’s called loyalty.”

  “That is the most screwed-up version of loyalty I’ve ever heard.” Brad shook his head. “I think it’s time for you to go. You’re fired.”

  Troy laughed. “This is awesome. I can’t wait to tell everyone I quit your minor league operation. I’ll have teams lined up at my doorstep.”

  “Then let me escort you out of here so you can get going on that right now.” Brad so wanted to wipe the smug grin from Troy’s face with his fist, but that would make a bad situation worse. Instead, he smiled and opened the door. “After you.”

  The moment Troy’s motorcycle disappeared from view, Brad called Barbara. As team director, he had the authority to get rid of Troy, but Barbara probably wasn’t going to be happy finding out about it after the fact.

  She wasn’t happy. In fact, she was downright furious. She wasn’t furious with Brad, though. Troy was her target.

  “How can that man sleep at night knowing he intentionally put someone else’s life in danger?” She instructed Brad to send her the video that he’d compiled. She would handle any consequences from outside of the team. “This issue is not over.”

  Brad’s next stop was Scott’s office. The chief engineer sat in silence as Brad gave him the news and showed him the video.

  “Wow.” Scott took a moment to clean his glasses. “I never made a connection. Now that I’ve seen it, I’m sorry I never picked up on it. Have you told Gabrielle?”

  “No. I planned on addressing it during the team huddle.”

  “You need to talk to her right now.” Scott put his hand up. “I know you don’t want to show anyone preferential treatment. Under normal circumstances, I’d be totally on board with that. These aren’t normal circumstances. Someone could have been hurt, or worse, and that someone would have been Gabrielle.”

  The image of Gabrielle in a hospital bed with tubes running this way and that had haunted him all weekend. Yet the thought of hurting her by telling her the truth scared him even more.

  “You’re right. Have everybody meet us in the conference room in thirty minutes.”

  Once he and Gabrielle were seated in the conference room, he gave it to her straight. She deserved the unvarnished truth.

  Like Scott, she remained quiet, but her narrowed eyes and clenched jaw told a different story. Each new fact he told her was a knife to her back, but she deserved to know the entire sordid affair.

  “I wonder how many points he cost us in the season championship?” Given the reactions from Barbara and Scott, Gabrielle’s response left Brad open mouthed.

  “Um, we lost a ton of points in Montreal, but beyond that, I don’t know. Is there anything else you want to talk about before we get everyone in here?”

  She gave him a half-smile. “I appreciate the thought, but I’ve had to deal with sexist pigs who say women don’t belong in race cars my whole life. I’m not going to lower myself into their sludge pit by commenting on their opinions. I’ll have my say where it hits them hardest—on the track.”

  After the team meeting, Brad went for a walk. He needed to clear his mind, and a stroll through the tree-lined streets of Fleetwood, Indiana, always did the trick. The comments from the crew, and Gabrielle, in particular, were encouraging. Troy had been a cancer to the team in a variety of ways, and now that the tumor had been cut out, nobody was going to miss it.

  That was the good news.

  There was bad news, too, though. Social media was already buzzing about Troy’s departure. On Twitter, he’d thrown a few firebombs at Brad and Gabrielle, which, not surprisingly, had been retweeted by Thornton Racing.

  At Barbara’s iron-clad insistence, nobody on the team was responding. She’d contacted the authorities, both in Canada and in the States, as well as the team’s attorney, and didn’t want anyone to say something that might come back to haunt them. When your boss was a media veteran, and she told you to keep your mouth shut, you did it. The forced silence gnawed at him.

  How was he supposed to respond when he wasn’t allowed to say anything? Troy’s childish behavior didn’t help anything but his little, sexist ego. The negative publicity only hurt the Continental Series’ profile. On top of that, the behavior was an insult to the entire Gale Force Racing Team.

  Most of all, it was unforgivable mistreatment of Gabrielle. All she’d done was take an opportunity given to her and shown the world how truly gifted she was behind the wheel. Along the way, she’d also stolen the hearts of countless fans, both inside and outside the series.

  Brad’s heart was chief among them.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Gabrielle was enjoying her day off sunning herself by the pond. The havoc caused by Troy’s firing was still going strong, so a few hours of silence were doing her heart good.

  She was trying her best to stay above the fray. Any comment she made would only stoke the flames. Those were flames she wanted to die down as soon as possible, so she could focus on teaching the jerks a lesson on the track.

  Her ringtone went off to the tune of the classic Dire Straits song “Money for Nothing.” She took the call. When her manager called instead of e-mailing, it was important.

  “I’m lying on a beach, the sun is shining, and I have a cold drink close by, Megan. I hope you’re calling just to say hi.”

  “Of course I am. Hi. And now that I’ve said that, how’s life in the eye of the storm?”

  “It got old quick, but the support I’ve received, especially from my Racer Girlz, has been amazing. Brad and I managed to get away for a couple of days, too. The time alone, just the two of us, was therapeutic, shall we say.”

  She closed her eyes and visualized their mini-vacation. It was at a cabin on a lake in Northern Wisconsin. Barbara had handed her a key fob to a rental car and Brad a set of directions and simply said to go and enjoy themselves.

  And boy, had they ever. After sharing a bottle of wine on the cabin’s front porch while they listened to the birds, Brad scooped her up in his arms and took her to the bedroom, where he spent all night using his mouth and tongue and hands to make Gabrielle feel things she’d never thought possible. They fell asleep as the sun was coming up, Gabrielle warm and s
afe in Brad’s strong arms.

  She woke up to the scent of fresh coffee and bacon sizzling on the stove. Before she could get out of bed, Brad was at the door, bringing her breakfast. A swim in the brisk water of the lake followed a hike in the woods, where they’d watched in wonder as, a safe distance away, a mother black bear played with her two cubs.

  They returned to the cabin after the swim too exhausted to repeat the fireworks from the night before, but it didn’t matter. The getaway had been perfect, and on the drive home, she found herself in a better place emotionally than she’d been in years.

  Back in the present, Gabrielle adjusted her sunglasses and took a deep, cleansing breath. To keep from losing her relaxed vibe, she focused on Brad’s smiling face and chiseled torso. God, the man was gorgeous.

  As her cheeks heated, she smiled and shifted her thoughts to the massive crowd of young ladies who had treated her like a rock star at the Wisconsin oval race the previous weekend.

  The purple Racer Girlz shirts that filled the grandstand were impossible to miss during the warm-up lap. The only thing better than that sight was the sound of the high-pitched cheering from her young fans when she lifted the third place finisher trophy during the podium ceremony.

  Finishing five places ahead of Chas made her smile, too, especially now that her rival had Troy working for him.

  “I’ll give your team owner credit. The way you guys have handled these twits has been masterful. It’s actually helped your profile. You look like the adult in this, and people are noticing.”

  “How so?” Gabrielle sat up. Even with the support of her AES sponsor friends, she’d still spent the past few years in relative anonymity. Hard-core racing fans in Europe knew of her, and she was building a small, but so far loyal, following in the States.

  “Are you alone?”

  “Yes.” Gabrielle looked over her shoulder to make sure.

  “What would you say if I told you a Jensen representative contacted me about your availability for the next three years?”

  Gabrielle stared at the phone, unable to make sense of Meg’s words. Sure, she’d heard them, but comprehending their meaning was something else. Jensen Motorsport was a well-respected team in A-1, the top European-based Open Wheel Racing circuit. With races in such exotic locales as London, Monte Carlo, and Dubai, many people considered A-1 the pinnacle of open-wheeled racing.