Chapter 34
E ven though Garrett offered me the entire length of Ryan’s suspension to recuperate, I get up early Monday morning, only a week after the accident, to get ready for work against Brooke’s wishes, crutches and all. I had to cajole, threaten, and eventually blackmail her to get her to agree to drive me to the office. She was not happy, to say least.
I make a haphazard attempt to fix my makeup despite the new scar on my face. I take extra time with my long brown locks. I use my curling iron to create some waves around my face in hopes that it will help camouflage the cut on my cheek.
I hobble to my closet. As I stand trying to decide what to wear, the first thing I spy is Ryan’s shirt hanging front and center. My stomach drops to the floor. I snatch it from the hanger and pull it up to my face. I take a deep breath through my nose, but his smell is gone. How poignant and incredibly ironic is that? The shirt that once represented the start of a new relationship, new career, and a promise of something more now hangs as a reminder of my bad decision. I take the shirt and fling into the bottom of the closet. I kick it into the back with my good foot. I don’t need anything else to remind me of Ryan.
After strict instructions and threats of her own, Brooke drops me off at the office very early so I can avoid any chitchat from the other office employees. I went with my long cobalt-blue maxi dress that covers my leg. I don’t want to draw any further attention to my injuries. I can’t handle the sympathetic looks, probing questions, and overall small talk. It is just too much right now. I just want to work. I sneak to my desk in hopes that no one will realize that I am here.
I sit and stare blankly at my computer, not even knowing where to start on damage control. This morning, I have cast away all my feelings for Ryan so I can get back to the business at hand. Yeah, I don’t believe that either. But I am in full business mode now, which is the way it started and the way it should have remained. Ryan’s career hangs in the balance. With his suspension and almost termination from GCR, my number one goal is to get him back on track, literally, in good physical and mental condition. NASCAR has demanded that he attend a six-week anger management program that coincides with his suspension. I sincerely hope it is beneficial for him, but I know better.
I am broken from my new internal mission statement by a slight knock on my office door. Here we go…
I turn around slowly, almost afraid of who it might be. It’s Josh. I let out a long breath and smile. He casually takes a seat at my desk.
“How’s it going, kid?”
I just nod, afraid to speak, afraid the dam will break again. Josh must sense my reluctance.
“I have been thinking…” He pauses. “I know I have given you a wealth of information to process in an attempt to educate you on the great sport of NASCAR, but I guess I forgot one major point.” I eye him warily because I know this is leading up to something.
“You see, a stock car is much like a horse…You don’t want to stand directly behind or in front of one.” He sighs at his own joke. I laugh out loud.
“Yes, that little bit of information is say, oh…” I look at my watch. “About a week too late!” We both laugh, and I immediately feel better about coming into the office today.
“Seriously, though…” Josh trails off, concerned. “Are you OK?”
Ahhh! The question of the day. I simply shake my head from side to side, then nod from top to bottom in succession.
Josh smiles. “I understand. But I am here if you need me!” he offers as he leaves me to my work.
I smile and say quietly, “Thank you!”
Jerri calls me in for a meeting shortly after lunch. I have been dreading my first conversation with her. She knows about my relationship with Ryan. She witnessed our exchange at the hospital. And she has had to work damage control on the rumors swirling about our involvement. But we haven’t spoken about it. A pool of anxiety is like lead in my stomach as I enter her office. She regards me with cool concern.
“Whitney, I really wish you would have taken off longer. You went through a very traumatic event,” she says, sounding motherly.
I nod. “I need to work. I need the distraction,” I am barely able to mutter due to the gigantic lump in my throat.
Jerri knowingly nods her head in return.
I know she is disappointed in me, so I feel the need to explain. “Jerri, I’m so sorry!” I exclaim.
She holds her hand up to stop me. “Don’t apologize. For the life of me, I cannot figure out the power he has over women!” Jerri shakes her head. We both laugh, and my anxiety immediately eases.
I continue, “I don’t even know how it happened. But it did. And again, I’m sorry.”
“Have you spoken to Ryan?” Jerri asks cautiously.
I look away from Jerri and quietly shake my head no. Word around the water cooler is that Ryan is holed up at his home on Lake Norman, but that could just be idle gossip. I don’t offer any information, nor do I ask Jerri about his whereabouts. I feel tears rim my eyes, and I violently fight them off. No more of that!
After a beat, I finally manage to say, “I made a very bad decision that was the catalyst for all this turmoil.”
Jerri looks at me, confused.
“And Ryan’s arrogance and quick temper are always gonna be a factor that we cannot overcome.”
She nods her head in concurrence. This she understands because she, too, knows him all too well.
I look back to Jerri and catch her gaze. “I just want to do my job and salvage what’s left of the season for Ryan and GCR. I let that aspect get away from me, but I am refocused and reorganized.”
Jerri smiles proudly. “I am glad to hear it. Now, if you need to leave early or work only half days, I completely understand.”
I nod my head knowing that schedule is a pipe dream. I laugh, “I wish! I have six weeks’ worth of damage control to start on!”
Jerri laughs with me. There are so many events that are going to have to be rescheduled since Ryan cannot even go to the track. His sponsors are going to be livid, and I start sweating just thinking about it. I can handle it, though. I will handle it, for Ryan’s sake.
Chapter 35
In the blink of an eye, a month of Sundays has passed. Literally, it seems. August has flown by despite the North Carolina heat. At the office, we are all in DEFCON five anxiously awaiting Ryan’s return to the track, not to mention his return to the office. Each day, I am anxious that he will just waltz through the door like nothing ever happened, but he doesn’t. Plus, the office chatter is at an all-time low. It’s unnerving but evident that the whole office is on pins and needles waiting for him also. But day after day he doesn’t show, which only increases the collective anxiety level of our team. All we can do is stay engrossed in our work and wait.
I have two weeks to prepare for Richmond, Virginia. All of Ryan’s sponsors are clamoring for attention after his six-week hiatus. Unfortunately, most of them have made specific demands that must be met in order to keep the sponsorship intact. I am not surprised. I actually find it hard to believe that we didn’t lose any sponsors. I am actively working to make sure they are all covered and given proper attention, which will hopefully prevent any lost contracts after the race season is over. Ryan is still in hot water with Nationwide after that fiasco in the event suite. I laugh to myself. Ryan and I have come a long way since then. I shake my head. Those thoughts and memories are done. I have to focus on the job at hand.
Ryan’s return at Richmond is my main concern. It is a night race, which are my favorites, but I cannot get excited about it. Too much has happened since Loudon, and there is still too much to get through before the green flag falls, like my first, sure to be awkward encounter with Ryan. I realize now that it’s not only my relationship with Ryan but the fear of being around the cars that is causing my anxiety. I shudder as goose bumps run down my spine. For the first time in my life, I am fearful, an emotion that does not sit well with me. I try to put those thoughts out of my mind in order
to get my job done. I have to climb this mountain of trepidation that I hope will lead me back into the excitement and adrenaline of NASCAR.
Over the last four weeks, I have fallen into a routine of alternating work and sleep. It is the only thing that helps me to pass the days. I wake up each morning and get to work as quickly as I can. Since there is not much for me to do with Ryan, I have been assisting Jerri with Garrett’s team and the search for Colton’s replacement. Garrett has had to break out of semiretirement to pick up the slack for Ryan’s and Colton’s vacant driver’s seats. He has been in a race car every weekend since Ryan’s suspension, which is stressful for the whole organization, not to mention him. The few times he has been in the office, he didn’t seem happy. I can’t blame him.
I work as long as I can. Most evenings I am escorted out by Jerri or by the threatening calls from Brooke. When I get home, I shower and put myself into a wine-induced coma. The alcohol not only helps me sleep soundly, but I don’t dream, not of Ryan, not about the accident. This is my routine. Terrible, I know, but it works!
Tonight at the office is one of those rare nights when I have slipped under the radar. It is around eight o’clock, and Ryan’s warning about security immediately comes to my mind. Paparazzi have been crawling around Mooresville like crazy since the accident. It also reminds me of that late night Ryan practically dragged me out of the office. I laugh. That night was the start of it all. Tears prick my eyes, and I force them back.
I stare blankly at my desk calendar. I cannot believe four weeks have already passed and Ryan has not shown his face in the office. The office gossip has not changed. Supposedly, Ryan is still up at the lake, avoiding everyone. The lake house, where he planned to take me during our next weekend off. Tears sting again. I bat them away again. Why is he hiding? Is it because of me? I can’t take this apprehension anymore. The fear and anxiety that grip me every day are about to push me over the edge. I grab my things and purposefully head out of the building. By God, if Ryan won’t come here, then I will go to him. Maybe, just maybe, he is at home now. I reach the parking lot to discover that my car is the only one in the lot. Shivers run down my spine as I carefully climb in, mindful of the cast on my leg.
Even though I am the only one left in the area, I make a right out of the parking lot to make the long circle around to Ryan’s house. We have made it this far without anyone knowing, and I am certainly not going to screw it up now. I make the quick loop and pull down the short path to Ryan’s gate. As I pull up, I take a deep breath to discover that the gate is locked. I look past the gate to see that all the lights are dark in Ryan’s house that sits high on the hill.
I hit the steering wheel in anger and cry out, “Damn it!” Where is he? I lay my head down on the steering wheel. What am I doing? I’ve got to get out of here.
I look up into the rearview mirror, and my breath catches in my throat. Another vehicle has pulled into the drive behind me and has me blocked in. Oh no! I peer into my rearview mirror again, but I can’t see who is behind me because of the blinding headlights. A slight knock on my window causes me to jump and cry out again. I look through my window, into the night, to spy Garrett looking back at me cautiously. I press my automatic window button.
“Hey, it was not my intention to scare you. I was coming in from the farm and spotted your taillights. I thought it was more vultures, those damn paparazzi. And, for a second, I thought…I hoped it might be Ryan finally coming home. I didn’t realize it was you.”
I nod my head, not sure of what to say.
Garrett takes notice of my hesitation. “He must be still up at the lake.”
I nod again, still unable to speak.
“Is everything OK, Whitney?” Garrett questions me.
“No…yes…yes sir, everything is fine. I…” I stammer. “I just wanted to speak to Ryan before Richmond.”
Garrett steps back and sighs, thrusting his hands down into his jean pockets. “Well…good luck with that. I haven’t spoken with him in over a month. He refuses to take my calls. To my knowledge, he has only had contact with his mother, and that has been brief. I think Bobby has been out to the lake to see him, but that is all I know.”
I am shocked at Garrett’s revelation. What in the hell is going on?
I nod again. “OK, well…I guess I should get out of here before anyone else sees me.”
Garrett nods in agreement, but looks concerned. “Why don’t you come up to the house? You look like you could use a good meal.”
Anxiety grips me again. “No, I couldn’t do that, and I really do need to get back to the city before it gets any later.” I don’t know how I would begin to face Ryan’s mother, nor have a conversation with the both of them after so much has happened.
“OK, Whitney,” Garrett says, disappointed. “Everything will work out. He is stubborn like his old man, but he will come around.”
I nod to him and force down the new lump in my throat. “No, sir. It’s not that. He…” I sputter. “He is just doing what I asked of him for once in his life.”
Garrett cocks his head to one side, confused, “Oh, what’s that?”
I take a deep breath. “To stay away.”
* * *
I watch in my rearview mirror as Garrett pulls away. I take a deep breath and slowly back my Honda Accord out of the driveway with a million thoughts in my head. Why is Ryan hiding? Is he alone? Why won’t he see his dad? All this shit is my fault. If I had stuck to my original plan, none of these events would have happened.
As I accelerate on Interstate 77 South, panic seizes my chest, and I feel that familiar sob rising in my throat. I am not going to do this. I cannot cry anymore. I pound the steering wheel physically trying to fight the tears. I lose. These feelings that I have been fighting and suppressing for the last six weeks violently erupt from my body in a huge sob. I can’t breathe, but I can’t compete with them anymore either.
Tears flood my face, and I cry, hard. My body is racked with sobs. I haven’t cried this hard since that morning in the hospital when Ryan left. I thought this was over. Now I know that no matter how hard I try to fight these feelings, the pain will not go away. In fact, the pain is worse than it ever was.
Why, is the only other thought that will come to my head. Why does it hurt so much? Why did I agree to keep my job? Why didn’t I just walk away altogether?
You know the answer, Whitney. Ryan.
As I take the exit to my apartment, my iPhone rings out. I have no plans to answer the call since I am a heaving, blubbering mess, but I fumble through my purse to find my cell. It is probably Brooke wondering where the hell I am. I grab my phone, and the number on the ID says, “blocked call.” Strange!
I can barely speak due to my current emotional state, but curiosity gets the best of me. I hit accept and whisper, “Hello,” doing my best to mask my distress. There is no answer. I can only hear dead silence. It must be a wrong number, but I have a sinking feeling in my gut. “Hello,” I call out again. And then the call immediately goes dead.
The phone call managed to stop my tears, but now I feel nervous. I turn the radio up, hoping to drown out my thoughts and uneasiness. Before I realize that my iPod is plugged in, I hear the beginning of a horribly depressing Brian McKnight song. Instead of panic and fresh tears, anger takes over my body. I reach up with one swift movement to grab the auxiliary cord and rip it from the port in the dashboard. I can’t keep doing this. I cannot afford another meltdown or its aftermath.
Chapter 36
R yan’s suspension is finally over. I can’t believe this day is here. My plane leaves for Richmond, Virginia shortly after lunch. I hold Ryan’s itinerary in my hands, and the paper shakes from my anxiousness.
Damn! I take a deep breath. I can do this! Come on, Whitney! Get it together already.
I don’t know if I am more anxious about seeing Ryan for the first time in six weeks or being back at the track. I guess it could be a combination of both, but the former is the majority. It would be
a hell of a lot easier if Ryan and I were able to talk before. However, it doesn’t look like that is going to happen.
A soft knock on my office door breaks me away from my thoughts. “Whitney,” Jerri says softly.
I can tell she is concerned. I smile to reassure her.
Jerri takes a step into my office and hands me a folder of documents. “Here is your travel itinerary. I have booked you at the Jefferson. It is a great hotel, but it is also off the radar. Since press has ramped up again now that Ryan’s suspension is over, paparazzi will be crawling.” She sighs. “So…I hope you will be able to hide out there without the media bothering you.”
I nod my head and look down.
“Are you sure you are ready to do this?” Jerri asks.
I look up and push down the lump in my throat. I nod. “No, really, Jerri, I can do this. I have to start back somewhere, right?”
She smiles at me reassuringly. “I have complete faith in you.”
Jerri’s words mean so much to me. I have come a long way in the last few months that I have been employed at GCR Racing. And we have all been through so much in these last few weeks. The stress and aftermath of my accident still shows around Jerri’s eyes. It makes me sad because I know I am the root cause of it all. It breaks my heart that I have let her down.
Jerri turns to leave, then turns back to me. “Still nothing?”
I know she is referring to Ryan. I shake my head. “I have e-mailed his schedule to him, but have not received a response.”
Jerri nods. “He will come around. I am sure he is anxious about the weekend, too. We all are.” A truer statement has never been spoken.
* * *
I arrive at the airport in record time. I have gotten to be a professional at timing my travel just right so that I don’t have to wait to board the plane. I hobble through security and walk into my gate just as the attendant gives the first boarding call. I can walk much easier these days since my cast was removed this week. I was able to ditch the crutches for a new walking boot. It is removable and will help me to readjust to using my leg again. It will make this weekend much easier on me, physically that is. I settle into my seat and take a deep breath. Here we go…
Smokin' & Spinnin' Page 23