“Course not.” It would’ve been easy to miss Beau’s final words because he was halfway out the car before they’d even left his lips.
The slamming of the driver door meant I didn’t even get a chance to apologise for my thoughtless word choice. I couldn’t even follow him to apologise because although I’d said something different to him, I didn’t think I would be able to stand. My legs still shook, and my head was swimming. It wasn’t only the alcohol that caused it, either.
Pushing the button to lock all the doors, I broke down in the passenger seat rather than trying to make my way to the elevator or stairs. The cabin of the car filled with the sound of my chest-wracking sobs. Seeing that Beau had left his mask behind, I picked it up, drew it to my heart, and cried even harder at the warmth that still lingered on the surface.
It was after one in the morning before I finally dragged myself up from the car to my apartment, with Beau’s mask dangling from between my fingers. Even though I’d only dozed in the car after breaking down, I was already progressing fast from drunken dizziness to the relentless thumping of a hangover.
All I did when I walked in the door was drink two big glasses of water, take some paracetamol, and strip off my clothes. I dropped Beau’s mask on my bedside table as I walked past it to find something to sleep in.
Knowing I’d regret the choice the instant I made it, I threw on the shirt I’d stolen from Beau during my last trip to the US. It had been washed a few times since then, and the lingering scent of him had been replaced by a faint trace of apples, but that didn’t matter. It was enough to wrap myself up in memories of happier times—of when I was still innocent and hadn’t experienced the heartache of being caught in Beau’s web of lies.
I went to sleep with visions of our day on his lake dancing in my head.
I WOKE TO an incessantly ringing phone. The shrill of the tone echoed through my skull and rattled my teeth. All I wanted to do was silence it, but I couldn’t drag myself up from the bed to answer it.
Mercifully the phone fell silent.
For thirty seconds.
The phone started again, and it became clear whoever was calling wasn’t going to let it rest until I answered. Crawling out of the blanket cocoon I’d constructed around myself during the night, I went in search of my phone.
“Hello?” I muttered into it when I finally found my voice.
“What do you think you’re doing over there? I thought we could trust you.” It was Mum on the other end and every word she spoke dripped with disappointment.
My heart leapt into my throat as my stomach dropped to my feet. “What are you talking about?” My words held no volume; dread stealing it away.
“The headlines, Pheebs. The paparazzi. I thought we’d raised you better than that. I thought you’d promised me there wouldn’t be any other issues after the leaked photos.”
“I—I don’t know what you mean.” Even as I said the words, I searched for my laptop. Nothing was helping the ache in my head, or the twisting agony in the pit of my stomach, but I had to know the damage. Of course, I could imagine from Mum’s words and my experiences with the paparazzi at home.
Before my computer had booted, Mum continued, reeling off the headlines as if each one left an aftertaste lingering on her tongue. “‘Like Daddy like daughter.’ ‘Track heiress’s wild night.’ ‘Not even pixie dust can save this fallen fairy.’ ‘Racing’s latest angel loses her wings.’ Shall I continue? Because I can. There are more. Quite a few more. And a valet has already sold you out, telling the press that you were drunk and out of control.”
“Mum, I—” I had to stop and catch my breath because my tears were threatening again. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just not used to drinking wine.”
“You’re underage there, Pheebs. You shouldn’t be drinking anything at all. Do you know how much of a PR nightmare this could become? Not to mention the effect so much alcohol could have with your medications. The damage it could do to your kidney.”
“I’m sorry,” I said again.
“There was something else too. Something mentioned in the articles. It indicated that there was a lot of tension between you and Beau, and that he took you home.”
I didn’t respond. Didn’t trust my voice enough to be able to. Instead, I punched my name into the search engine and found a dozen or more images of me fighting with my wings.
“It went on to add that his fiancée followed you to pick him up.”
The tears that had never abated were back in my eyes. A sob escaped.
“What’s going on there, Pheebs?” Mum’s voice broke at the end, and it was enough to break me.
“I—I made a mistake,” I admitted as my sobs started again. “I trusted someone I shouldn’t, and by the time I realised what was going on, it was too late to back out. Beau . . . he isn’t who I thought he was.”
“He’s engaged to someone else?”
Another sob left me. “And she’s pregnant.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mum was in tears too, I could hear it in her voice.
“I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
“Oh, baby, you know your dad and I would never be disappointed in you for things that aren’t your doing. I think you need to tell me everything though.”
“For PR control?”
“No, baby, because I think you need to talk. You don’t have to do any of this alone.”
For the next fifteen minutes, I told her everything that had happened since the night with Cassidee in the background of Beau’s Skype.
“You should have told us, sweetheart. There’s no way we would have forced your hand or made you do anything you didn’t want to just because we were in the middle of negotiations. We only ever wanted your happiness.”
“I know. I just . . . I didn’t know how. How do you admit that the one you thought was perfect, isn’t?” More than anything, I wished we weren’t talking on the phone, but were instead close enough that she could take me in her arms. The world was easier to deal with from the comfort of Mum’s embrace. Eight, eighteen, or eighty, that fact would never change.
“It’s not easy,” she said, no doubt recalling the time she had to tell everyone about me. And explain why Dad had left her.
“It worked out okay for you though,” I said. “I mean, in the end your not-perfect kinda was.”
“It’ll work out for you too, you have to believe that. Maybe it won’t be with Beau, but there’ll be someone else out there.”
I chuckle-sobbed. “Are you trying to tell me there are other fish in the sea?”
“Something like that. And you’ll catch the right one when you’re ready for him.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll see what I can do to minimise damage with these headlines. What do you want to do though?”
I ran my fingers through my hair. “What do you mean?”
“There’s still time to renegotiate contracts. To look at getting another driver in for you so you can come home. If you’d prefer?”
It was such an easy out. One word and I could be home. Only, wasn’t that exactly what Angel and I had decided would be the worst thing?
Despite the way the night had ended, I still understood that I would regret running from the challenge in the long run. Next year, my life would return to normal. Or at least as normal as my life could get. I’d be moving on to the ProV8 circuit. That would happen for me regardless of whether I stayed in the USA. The only thing that would change if I left was my own sense of self-worth. I’d always look back at this year as the one that had forged me into something stronger, or the one where I’d run from my troubles.
“No. I don’t think that’d be a good idea,” I said. “I think I’d regret it if I did.”
“If you’re sure?”
“Yeah. I am.” The words settled over me and I drew power from them. “No one messes with a Reede, right?”
She chuckled. “You certainly are your father’s daughter.”
I grinned. “Thank you f
or the compliment.” For the first time in a long time, it truly felt like one.
“And I won’t have other fires to put out with paparazzi reports if you stay?”
“No. Trust me, I’m never drinking again.”
“You’re sure you’re going to be all right?” Mum asked.
“I think I will be now. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
We spent a few minutes talking about the rest of the family before we ended the call. Talking with Mum had put some stuff back in perspective. One thing was clear over everything else—I needed to stop falling to pieces around Beau. I’d made the mistake of believing he loved me once. He didn’t get to have power over me forever because of that, though. I was going to be stronger.
I would put him in my past.
MY RESOLVE lasted all of two hours before I received a phone call from Mary-Lou advising me that Beau and I had been invited to a television interview on the local news to try to smooth over some of the rumours circling about what had happened the night before.
It was possible it was something Mum had imagined as a way of punishing me for the night before. She had always been into instigating unique punishments. Regardless of the reason, it meant I had an hour to get over my hangover, shower, get dressed and made up, and get into the workshops to meet the reporters.
I was out the door in half that time, determined to beat Beau’s arrival. Part of me felt like it’d give me the upper hand if I was the one waiting for him, rather than the other way around.
When I arrived, it was to find the cars out and on display, and another sight that stopped me cold and left the remnants of my heart bleeding into the cavity left behind.
Beau and Cassidee.
They were standing together, loved up, behind one of the cars. His hands caressed her head, his fingers were curled in her loose hair, and her arms were wrapped around his waist. Their foreheads touched and his eyes were closed as she whispered something against his lips.
“Hi, you must be Phoebe Reede.”
I gasped at the sound of the voice from behind me before spinning on the spot to greet the person who’d spoken.
A petite redhead stuck her hand out to me. “Jessica Loveitt. I’m a producer at The Racing Hub. It’s lovely to meet you.”
“Ah, you too.”
Her grin grew as I spoke. “Oh, listen to that accent. You’re too cute.”
“Um, thank you.”
“If you and Beau are both here, it’s probably worth getting a move on. I’ll go get everything set up.”
“I’ll go grab him, I guess.” It was the last thing I wanted to do, but I also didn’t want to stand around looking useless.
Swallowing down my next breath, I turned back to the pair of lovebirds. When I did, I met Beau’s gaze. Despite the flash of warning I saw in his eyes, I kept walking toward him. I dug my hands into the pockets of my jeans. His smile fell into a frown until Cassidee whispered something in his ear; then his lips curled up at the ends.
“I, uh, I think they’re almost ready for us,” I said as a greeting.
“Hi, Phoebe,” Cassidee said. “I’m glad ya don’t feel too sick after last night’s adventures.”
I clenched my teeth together. I could have admitted to her that I was only functional thanks to painkillers and Coke, but I refused to give her the satisfaction. One glance at her soft smile made my fists clench. I drew a deep breath, forced a smile, and shook my head. “I feel really good actually. Thanks for your concern though.”
“I remember being as young as you are. Hangover recovery was so much quicker back then. When you get to be a little older like Beau and me, it gets harder.”
Part of me wondered whether her words were supposed to be a swipe at my age and apparent immaturity. It was hard to tell whether she was genuinely as sweet as her voice sounded or the biggest bitch in the world. She threw me off-balance like very few people had.
I forced a smile. “Well, if you can keep your hands off your fiancé for just a few minutes, I should probably steal him for this interview.”
“Oh, of course!” She leaned in and kissed Beau’s mouth.
His eyes widened at the touch and his gaze shot to mine.
“There’s more of that later,” she murmured, just loud enough for me to hear.
I spun on my heels and charged away from them both, heading toward the two chairs the producer had set up for Beau and me.
“Hey, wait up!” Beau’s call was enough to slow my pace. It was like he had a tether around my heart he could tug at any time and I’d come straight back like a fucking hawk returning to her falconer.
I pressed my fingers against my brow as I spun around. “What is it?”
“Ain’t we supposed to be showin’ them there ain’t no animosity between us? I think that might come across better if we say at least two words to one another before the cameras are turned on.”
“Two words?” I lifted my brow because I could think of two words I wanted to say to him. They started with an F and an O.
“I’m sorry for my assumption last night,” he said, staring at his boots. “I tend to get a li’l crazy when it comes to people drinkin’ and drivin’.”
“Well, I tend to go a little crazy when people hurl false accusations at me and act like I’m stupid. Maybe that makes us even.”
“Phoebe, please? I’m tryin’ ta be friendly.”
“I already told you, Beau. I don’t need you to be friendly. I don’t need you to rescue me, or to try to save me from myself. And I really don’t need to be forced to watch you and Cassidee shoving your tongues down each other’s throats.”
He met my gaze after rolling his eyes. “We were hardly shoving our tongues anywhere, darlin’.”
“Please don’t call me that.” I sighed. If he really wanted to be friendly, to make nice, he’d stop saying the one word that made my heart skip and my stomach flip. “I know the word means nothing to you, but I can’t hear you use it without thinking about everything that happened between us.”
He shifted closer to me. “Maybe there’s some stuff in that ya should think about.”
“What’s that supposed to mean exactly?”
His eyelids sank half-closed but behind them his irises flashed fire. “Just there are questions that have been burnin’ me since ya left the way ya did.”
“Like?” My heart was lodged in my throat and made the question almost inaudible.
He moved so he was inches from my face. “Like, well, did ya ever actually feel the way ya said ya did.”
My heart pounded in my ears and the memory of his kiss danced on my tongue. “Do you mean did I love you?”
His eyes closed as he nodded, but didn’t move away to give me any distance.
“Does it even matter?” I asked, my voice close to breaking as I stared beyond him to where Cassidee stood watching us both. What would she have to say about our proximity? It was hardly a friendly distance.
“Does to me.”
“Why?”
He opened his eyes again and I was lost in his gaze. “’Cause it does. It’s the one question I’ve wanted the answer to more than anythin’ else.”
Did he want to know whether I’d fallen for his charms so easily? Would it make him happy to learn how badly he’d broken me with his deception? Could I admit my weakness to him and prove how foolish I’d been?
“No,” I lied, dropping my gaze away from his. “I guess I didn’t.”
He curled his nose up and stepped backward away from me. “That’s what I figured.”
“So does that change anything?”
His fingers curled into fists at his side and he shrugged. “Guess not.”
“Then like I said before, it doesn’t matter.”
“Phoebe, Beau, are you two ready?” Jessica called from where the three chairs were set up for our interview.
Beau cleared his throat. “Heh, yeah.” An instant later, he was gone from the space in front of me.
Even though he’
d been unaffected, I had to take a moment longer to put myself back together after the lie I’d told. I swallowed to clear the lump in my throat as Cassidee’s gaze found mine. The cold stare she gave me on top of everything else caused a traitorous tear to slide down my cheek. When I swiped it away, I could have sworn I saw a confused frown mar her brow momentarily before she turned away.
I put on a fake smile once again, and headed for the interview space, ready to tell anyone watching about how well Beau and I got along and how excited I was to be at Richards Racing.
In other words, I was going to spend the next twenty minutes or so lying through my teeth.
AFTER I ARRIVED home on Saturday night, and for the rest of the weekend, it was easier to keep my resolve to put Beau out of my head. Mostly because I spent the time alone apart from the handful of trick-or-treaters who doorknocked my building on the night of Halloween. First, I set up my apartment more to my liking and then I went to give the on-site gym a go to work out my frustration. As I cycled like a woman possessed, I kept trying to think of my goal. My focus. The racing. Keeping fit. Making my family proud. I had just twelve months to do all that.
A little more than a year and I’d be home again. This would be a chapter I could close.
By Monday, I was ready to get stuck into work on my Honda. It meant spending the day hanging around Richards Racing, but at least I could do that in one quiet corner. It didn’t mean I would have to see Beau, Cash, or Jase, or any of their arsehole friends. I could just keep to myself.
Dressed in a pair of overalls, with my hair pulled up tight and away from my face so it wouldn’t bother me while I worked, I planned a hard day of work to figure out what parts I would definitely need to replace and what might be salvageable. The cost of repairs didn’t matter too much, not like it would have if I planned on flipping the bike straight away like the one I’d driven across the States. Because this was going to be a ride for the longer term, it was more important to do it right than to do it cheap.
After I’d let myself in with my security card, and found my way to the garage, I got straight to work. The first port of call was cleaning the grease and dirt off the engine. Then I set to work dismantling the pieces. Thankfully it was quiet and I was mostly left alone.
Phobic (Phoebe Reede: The Untold Story #2) Page 8