Phobic (Phoebe Reede: The Untold Story #2)

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Phobic (Phoebe Reede: The Untold Story #2) Page 3

by Michelle Irwin


  I snapped my mouth shut and turned back to Jase to see if he was going to at least try to put a stop to it, but he had all of his fat sausage fingers curled into a ball that he rested on his stomach and a smile on his face that told me he appreciated the joke.

  Burying my fury at the sight, I tried for a cordial tone when I spoke. “Mr Richards said you’d be able to show me the car.”

  Jase half-lifted one brow, as though the effort involved in lifting it fully was too great for him. Or at least that I didn’t warrant it. “Car’s not yours for another few months, sweetheart.”

  “Don’t call me sweetheart. And I’m not asking for anything but to have a chance to get acquainted with her as early as possible.”

  “Yeah, I hear you like getting acquainted with things as fast as possible.”

  My hands found my hips. “Excuse me?”

  He waved one hand at the seat in front of the desk, just a few steps from where I was standing. The base of the seat was at least two to three inches lower than the one Jase sat in himself. Obviously, he was a man who liked to make himself feel important.

  And he was going to be in charge of running my pit crew the following year.

  Great.

  When I didn’t immediately sit, he sighed, rolled his eyes, and gestured again. “Sweetheart, it’s going to be a lot easier for you if you learn to follow directions.”

  “Don’t forget who’s financing this team,” I said, drawing myself up to my full height. I had at least two inches on pig man and I wasn’t above using his own intimidation techniques against him.

  “Look, sweetheart.” He said the word with such vitriol it was clear he’d gathered exactly how much I hated it and that had made him more determined than ever to use it. As he spoke, he rose to his feet and turned his back to me. “I don’t know how you run things down under, but nothing happens here without my say-so. I run the pits. In other words, I own you. So if I say the car ain’t yours yet, it ain’t yours yet.”

  “You do not own me. I was put in charge of this operation. I make the ultimate calls when it comes to staffing and financing. It’d do you well to remember that.” I didn’t know exactly where the words were coming from, but I was shooting them out anyway. I refused to be intimidated by someone like Jase.

  He laughed and spun around. “You can think what you like, but you are what we would call a figurehead. A mouthpiece. Someone to stand in front of the press and say the things we need you to say. And a pretty face to parade in front of the sponsors so they’ll open their fat wallets. Outside of that, we don’t want to hear from you. Unless of course you’re offering up your mouth for other purposes.”

  “You’re a fucking pig.” I couldn’t believe he was showing his hand so early in the game.

  “And you’re a little slut. Beau’s told everyone all about you. We’ve all seen your photos.” His gaze trailed over my chest as though I were standing naked in front of him.

  “If you say one more word, I will sue your arse for sexual harassment,” I said as I crossed my arms over my chest. The man was ten times worse than any walking hard-on I’d ever had to deal with before. I had never been happier that I hadn’t done full-frontal topless photos for Beau. The ones with my hands covering my tits were bad enough. Especially if people like Jase were looking at them.

  “There ain’t a judge around here that wouldn’t say you weren’t asking for it, posing so provocatively all over the Internet and then choosing to work in a male-dominated area.” As he spoke, he covered the ground between us. He stalked behind me. “We are but men, after all.” His fingers curled around the end of my ponytail as he said the last words.

  The pressure of my blood pounding in my head was almost audible with each beat of my heart. Why am I here? This isn’t worth it. I should just fucking go.

  I didn’t need their shit. I could go home instead. I’d have my family there at least. I’d just have to wait another twelve months in the production series, and then I’d be free to take over one of the Emmanuel Racing ProV8s. Of course, that would be letting all the jackoffs win. Beau especially.

  The thought of being in close quarters with the one I’d loved for the next twelve months set fire to my body even as it made my heart ache. Why couldn’t I just push him out of my mind? From the beginning, he’d found a way under my skin. It was no different now.

  Maybe it was worth letting them win.

  Jase continued his slow circle until he was in front of me again, a challenging smile on his thin lips. Setting my jaw, I stepped away from him and turned on my heel.

  “Wait, Phoebe, just wait.” He was laughing, but I didn’t see anything funny. “I’m just joking.” He spoke like a politician: smooth and confident, but with an edge I couldn’t trust. “You’ll have to get used to them if you want to survive with this crew.”

  I frowned. “I don’t find it funny, not in the least.”

  “Then you need to lighten up.” He threw his hand out dismissively as he walked back to his desk. “God, the way Beau spoke about you back in July, it sounded like you actually had a sense of humour.”

  “I guess I lost it when I met his fiancée.”

  “She’s been on the scene a lot longer than you, sweetheart.”

  Even though I’d suspected as much, I nodded at the new information. “Regardless, anything that happened between Beau and me has no bearing on my reason for being here”—it was almost too easy to lie about that to the pig-faced man—“or on my ability to drive.”

  He sighed. “Look, I’ve got stuff I need to do today, but I can probably schedule you in for a meet-and-greet with the car in a week or two. I’ll book you in for a couple of test laps at the same time, so that I can get an idea of how much work we’ll need to do to get you ready for the race season.”

  What . . .?

  How . . .?

  My head spun from his back and forth. Because it was the easiest option, I bit my tongue rather than responding to his negativity. After all, he was agreeing to what I wanted, and going one step further by giving me actual track time.

  “That would be good,” I said, but only when I was certain the words wouldn’t accidentally slip out as “Fuck you.”

  “Now if you’ll excuse me, some of us don’t have parents financing our careers and actually have to work.” He waved his hand at me dismissively.

  My mouth hung open. It was impossible to get a read on the guy. Was he genuinely a jerk, or just playing silly games the way some people did with new staff? I’d experienced that before when I’d started my mechanic apprenticeship, but never to such a degree. Trying to sort through the mire in my mind, I spun on my heel and left without another word.

  The day had been the opposite of what I’d expected, and far less than I’d hoped for.

  The worst part was that I couldn’t even hope for it to get any better. The best I could wish for was that it wouldn’t go any further downhill.

  MAKING A HASTY retreat, I headed back to my hire car. I was more than ready to get the fuck away from Richards Racing for the day. It would be a small miracle if I wasn’t on a flight home within a week.

  I was just glad I had a potential bike to check out that evening to give me something else to focus on. Otherwise, I probably would have gone back to my apartment and cried myself to sleep. How could something go from being a dream to being a nightmare? How could someone be the opposite of everything I’d expected? If I’d known Beau was going to be on the team—or that he was going to be such an arse—I never would have agreed to the trip.

  I’d barely climbed into the car when my phone rang.

  “Hey, baby,” Mum’s voice came down the line. “How’s your meet-and-greet going?”

  “Good,” I lied. “The team is lovely. It’s going to be a bit of an adjustment from Emmanuel though. I mean, I’ve known most of our team for years and almost everyone here is new.”

  “You’re okay though, aren’t you?”

  I made a mistake and I just want to come ho
me. The words burned my tongue like acid. “Yeah, of course, I’m great.”

  “I’m glad to hear it, sweetheart. Everyone here will be up and moving soon, so I can’t chat for too long. I just wanted to check in.”

  “Thank you,” I said, before adding, “Did you know Beau was the driver of the other car on the team?” The rest of the question—is that why you put me here—remained stuck to my tongue.

  “I suspected that much when I saw his name on the staff list.”

  “You didn’t think to mention it to me?” The words were free before I could think about them.

  “Are you sure everything’s okay?” Her light and breezy tone was swept away in an instant.

  “Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”

  “Just checking, baby.” There was a clatter on the other end of the phone.

  “Do you need to go?” My heart ached at the thought of having to end the call so soon, but I didn’t have much choice if one of the kids needed her.

  “No, Dad’s got it under control.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, so why didn’t you tell me about Beau?”

  “I thought you knew.”

  Confusion raced through me. Why would I know?

  “When we started sussing out the opportunities, there was only one team that had what we needed. It wasn’t until we were close to contract stage that we requested staff details and police checks for everyone who would be working with you.”

  I sat bolt upright. Was she kidding? “You what?”

  “Sweetie, you didn’t expect us to let you go all the way to the USA without at least trying to ensure you weren’t going to be working with anyone dangerous.”

  I frowned as my eyes scanned the car park. What did they expect to happen? “You say that like you’re expecting me to run into someone dangerous.”

  She sighed. “Of course not. We just wanted to take what precautions we could. That’s all.”

  “Okay, so you saw Beau’s name on the list?”

  “Exactly.”

  “And didn’t think to mention it to me because…?”

  “I figured you and Beau knew you were on the same team when you told me he’d said you’d be happy with the team. I figured you’d worked it out.”

  I recalled her question the day after Beau and I had broken up. “Oh, I must have given him the wrong team name when I was talking to him,” I said dismissively, trying to shift the conversation on before I lost control and told her about my crappy day. “That’s all.”

  “That must have been a great surprise when you arrived then.” She didn’t sound convinced by my lie, but didn’t push the issue.

  Right as she said the words, Beau and Cassidee came out of the building. His eyes scanned the car park before locking onto mine. When our gazes met, a knot formed in my stomach. For half a second, I held his attention. Then his eyes dropped to watch the ground, his lips curled down into a frown, and he whispered something into Cassidee’s ear, causing her to laugh before he led her off to his truck.

  “Yeah,” I said as loud as I could with my half-closed throat. “A big surprise. At least working with him will be easy.” As soon as the word left my mouth, a tear slid down my cheek.

  Easy like I apparently am, according to Beau and his boys.

  My heart knotted in my throat as I watched him glide his truck from the parking spot with practised ease. When he was out of sight, I dropped my head onto the steering wheel as I struggled for breath.

  “Sorry, Mum, I’ve got to go.” I squeezed the words past my strained throat. “I’ll call you in a few days.”

  “Okay,” she said, sounding a little surprised by the abrupt parting. “I love you.”

  “Love you too.” I barely managed to get the words out before my voice broke. I disconnected half a second before my sobs started. Something I’d said to Beau when I thought everything we had meant something floated back to me. “Love can destroy you, I’ve seen it happen.”

  Thinking back to that moment, it had seemed impossible that we’d end up where we were now. And yet, even then he’d been with her. Had he invited her around the hour I’d left his bed? The next day?

  Knowing that all I was doing was torturing myself, I started the car and left my day behind.

  WHEN I arrived back at my new home, a small one-bedroom apartment in one of the biggest buildings in the area—around five miles from work—I jumped on the Internet and googled Beau’s name. It was something I hadn’t bothered to do before because I knew from personal experience the stuff that went to print was only ever partly factual. Now, I needed to know more.

  When all that came up were pages of his race wins, I dug a little deeper and entered the search, Beau Miller Fiancée.

  Almost instantly the photos on the page refreshed so I was inundated with image after image of Beau and Cassidee, smiling brightly at the camera at one red carpet event or another.

  I picked a random photo and clicked through to the accompanying news article. After skimming the page, my heart was in my throat. I picked a few more photos and followed the same process. As I did, one thing became very clear: he’d been lying to me from the very beginning.

  Each article stated that he’d been with Cassidee for a long time, at least two years, before they announced their engagement. There were rumours of a split, hints at a love child, and even one article that seemed to believe they were already secretly married.

  Running through the websites, focusing on the common theme, made it clear that he’d been involved with her long before I came on the scene. As if Jase’s words hadn’t already done that.

  It all cemented one inescapable fact for me: he’d never cheated on me. He’d cheated with me.

  Did she know? How could she not, with the words she’d spat at me the day everything ended? Did she care?

  Did that mean that when she’d flashed her pretty smile at me, she’d known her fiancée had seen me naked? Had shared things with me that I’d never shared with anyone else?

  Moving away from the computer, I lay on the bed. I rolled onto my stomach and grabbed the photo frame from the bedside table. In it was the photo of my family I’d shown Beau on our first Skype date. Over the top, just like it had been at home, was the strip of photos from the photo booth at the Fun Spot. I’d come so close to ripping the damned thing to shreds so many times, but each time there was something in Beau’s expression that stopped me.

  Even though I’d studied it a thousand times, I lifted the photos and got lost in the look buried in his amber and chocolate eyes. As it always did, the sight made my heart soar and ache all at once. Chills ran through my body as I wondered how foolish I’d been. It was easy to believe he’d cared for me based on that photo—that he’d even loved me. The way he stared at me in that picture was the way Mum and Dad looked at each other.

  Or at least, that’s what I’d thought.

  Not for the first time, I wondered how I could feel so much. Especially when he felt so little. How could I let go of the memories when they were some of the happiest I had away from my family, tainted though they might be now?

  After torturing myself for another couple of minutes, I headed for the shower in an attempt to wash away the dirty feeling I’d endured most of the day. I figured after my shower, I’d go meet the seller of the bike I was interested in. The sooner I had something sorted, and working, the sooner I could ditch the hire car and go for a freeing ride.

  That was all I needed to blow Beau out of my head, I was certain of it. Maybe it hadn’t worked at home, but I could only hope it would now that I’d seen him again.

  Thankfully the guy I’d organised the viewing with—one I’d spoken to before leaving Australia—was located only a short drive away. It was a body shop less than fifteen minutes from the Richards Racing Headquarters. Following the instructions he’d passed on, I headed down the side of a twelve-foot fence—trying to ignore the menacing barks of the two huge dogs inside the yard.

  When I reached the end of
the narrow path, I found the small house described in the directions. Hoping that my day was about to turn around, I knocked on the door. I was more than ready to have something positive come from the day.

  A little over a minute later, the door opened a few inches, still locked in place by the chain across the opening.

  “Can I help you?” a young man asked.

  I tried to get a look at him, but between the backlighting, the tiny opening, and the way he hid behind the door, it was a little difficult.

  “Wait a minute,” he said, before I could say anything. The door closed, followed by the sound of the chain scraping in its housing. A second later, the door opened again. “I know you. You were at work today.”

  His sudden appearance and ready words threw me. “What?”

  “At Richards Racing. They said you’re the new driver.” His gaze travelled down my body before his blue eyes met mine again.

  “I bet that’s not all they said,” I muttered under my breath. “Yeah. That’s right.”

  “Wow, that’s really exciting.” He gave me a genuine smile, one I was more than willing to return. We’d gone almost a whole minute without him accusing me of stealing anyone’s position, reproaching me for being easy, or otherwise trying to fuck up my night. “Ain’t you a little young to be a driver?”

  I smirked at him. “Aren’t you a little young to be accusing me of being a little young?”

  He blushed bright red and ran his hand through his dusty blond hair. “I’m nineteen.”

  “Well, you’ve got a year up on me then.” I laughed. “But I’ve been doing this most of my life.”

  “Yeah, I heard your dad is some bigwig back in Australia or something, isn’t he?”

  I bristled. Was it about to happen? The accusation of nepotism and the dismissal of the work I’d had to do to earn Dad’s trust in my cars and around the track? “A little, yeah.”

  His grin stretched wider. “That’s awesome. I’m Xavier, by the way.” He shoved his hand out for me to shake.

 

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