Happy Hour (Racing on the Edge)

by Shey Stahl

  “Let’s get him over here.” The reporter motioned for Jimi to come over. Jameson wiped sweat from his neck with a towel Alley threw towards him.

  “Jimi, what do you think of your son here?” He shoved the microphone in his face.

  “I knew he had it in him.” Jimi smiled. “We’re very proud of Jameson.” he reached for Jameson, heaving him into an embrace, and whispered something to him.

  For a moment, Jimi’s hard demeanor shifted to portray him remembering what it took his son to get here, in victory lane. This, the sounds, vibrations, smells of racing and the rouse of the night around us was what completed Jameson and in turn, shined in Jimi’s eyes having made that dream possible.

  When Jameson pulled back, he was all smiles.

  He conscientiously tried for so long to gain autonomy approval from Jimi, but also separation to become himself though he still looked to him for extolment.

  What Jameson never realized, maybe he did after winning the USAC Triple Crown our summer together, was that he never needed to separate himself.

  Kyle remained near the car, his humble demeanor breaking into a smile of both honor and gratification. The announcer turned towards him. “Kyle, you seemed to make the right call there to stay out.”

  Kyle shook his head and patted Jameson on the back. “Nah,” he drew out with coyness. “That was Jameson’s call,”

  “Well, it seemed to be the right one. Congratulations.”

  I watched him in awe as he finished the last of his interviews.

  This man made even as much as talking to the media sexy.

  Once interviews were finished it was time for the “hat dance” as they called it. The “hat dance” was where drivers and their teams wore the hats of their various sponsors, snapped a picture and then moved onto the next one, usually around twenty or so.

  It was actually somewhat comical to watch. There were a few times where half the team had the wrong hat on where others didn’t.

  It had to of been confusing but did provide us some entertainment.

  Alley, Emma, and I excused ourselves to wait back at the hauler for him to finish. Standing near the doors, Alley talked to Simplex on the phone when Jameson returned with Aiden and Spencer.

  “Congratulations,” Alley screamed over the noise of the engines from the car returning to their haulers.

  Jameson hugged her and wiped his sweaty face over her shoulders. “You’re an asshole.” she snapped and punched him in the stomach.

  Emma threw a towel at him and he wiped off his face turning towards me.

  “Hi,” he smiled once he was close enough and took a drink of the Gatorade Aiden tossed him.

  I laughed. “Hi.”

  “I have a press conference to do.” He said nonchalantly with a shrug. “You gonna be around?”

  I wanted to hit him and hump his leg at the same time when he smirked like that.

  “I’m not sure,” I said with a shrug of my shoulders. “I might go check out this Bobby Cole driver. See if he’ll take me home.” I shook my hips at him.

  Jameson’s eyes narrowed. “You better be here when I’m done, Sway.” He pulled on the strings of my sweatshirt, his eyes darting to my lips and then back again.

  “Or else what,” I countered slapping his hand away with a giggle.

  Alley was telling him it was time to go but he leaned closer. The thick scent of racing engulfed me.

  “You just better be here.” He warned and hip checked me.

  Emma, who was standing behind me, placed her head on my shoulder. “Pit lizard.”

  I turned glaring at her.

  “Whore who’s fucking her brother’s friend,” I quipped back reaching for the black heels she dangled in my face.

  I had something to prove tonight and I was going to need those damn shoes.

  3. Victory Lane – Sway

  Victory Lane – The spot on each racetrack’s infield where the race winner parks for the celebration. It’s sometimes referred to as “winners circle”.

  It was nearly midnight when Jameson finally finished with the contender conference (a press conference with the top five finishers from the race and their crew-chiefs) and post-race interviews. Now we were finally on the way to downtown Charlotte where Jameson was required to make an appearance at the Howl at the Moon bar.

  The thirty-five minute drive from the track was filled with Jameson, Aiden, and Spencer recapping the race and pit stops. Spencer had been just as disappointed with the pit stops as Jameson was.

  Emma, Alley and I elected to crack open the mini bar half way through the drive. Since Jimi and Nancy decided to make it a night and gladly took Lane with them, Alley and Spencer were making use of the grown up time. Lane, who wouldn’t get out of Jameson’s car after the race, ended up falling asleep in there and then carried lifelessly to the car.

  “What was wrong with Bobby’s car?” Spencer asked Jameson.

  “Fuck if I know. He was really loose coming out of four. Hell...I think he pegged the wall a couple times.” Jameson leaned further back in the seat and took a drink of his beer. “A couple times I thought he’d give me a push off the re-start but he just hung me out to dry.”

  Alley smiled towards Jameson. “Gordon called,” she held her phone up. “The car passed post race inspection...they’re dropping the fine too.”

  “Seriously?” Jameson perked up.

  “It was a bullshit fine anyways.” Spencer added.

  Alley slipped her phone inside her bag. “Regardless, we’re a new team. We don’t need publicity like that. It’s good they dropped it.”

  Jameson just nodded, his gaze fixated on his beer.

  The poor guy was beat. He’d just spent four hours manhandling a race car—he had a right to be tired.

  If it were me, I’d be curled up in bed right now.

  Eventually the talk turned to what we were all going to drink once we got to the bar. Howl at the Moon had some of the best drinks around, like the Purple Rain.

  As luck would have it, the Omni hotel we were staying at was just up the street. I had a feeling we might want the short drive after this escapade.

  I sat there silently listening and drinking my beer beside Jameson.

  When we first got inside the limo there was about a foot between us. Every so often, Jameson scooted over to whisper something to me and never moved back.

  So now, there we were shoulder-to-shoulder, hip-to-hip, left leg-to-right leg and I was in pit lizard heaven.

  My left hand was holding my beer and I kept my right hand busy with the outside paper label. God knows what my hands would do if they didn’t have something to occupy them. They probably would have checked out his gearshift and then moved on to figure out size gears he was running.

  You sound totally retarded.

  Jameson showered before we left and changed into a pair of jeans that matched my skirt and a black button down shirt that he had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. Emma dressed him, in case you were wondering how we ended up matching. He was insanely hot and smelled even better with the faint smells of racing fuel and burnt rubber lingering on his skin.

  If only they made racing fuel cologne. I laughed at myself thinking back to the commercials they used to do with racing fuel as cologne.

  Jameson turned his head towards me, grinning when he heard my chuckle. “Get drunk with me tonight.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea sport.” I objected shaking my head. I crossed my legs and Jameson’s eyes that were once focused on my face slowly moved to my bare thighs.

  His eyes met mine again and his intense stare had me blushing in seconds. He didn’t say anything for a long moment just looked at me until Spencer’s laugh interrupted us.

  Jameson smirked and licked his lips in a deliberate casual way. His head angled to one side before he brought his hand up to his face and rubbed down the sharp line of his jaw, his eyes holding mine. “I just won the Coca-Cola 600,” his nose scrunched in the cutest way and mot
ioned with two fingers for me to lean closer, so I did. Then he whispered in my ear. “That’s a big deal.” I felt his lips graze my earlobe. “We need to celebrate.”

  “Fine,” I huffed pulling away from him slightly and pretended to pout while he smiled in triumphantly next to me.

  I think I let out a noise that was near a squeak but closer to a snort, it just sounded stupid and not at all sexy.

  I wasn’t mad he wanted to celebrate by drinking. I needed the liquid courage tonight more than ever. I just didn’t want to appear too eager.

  “Can I make one suggestion?” I asked eventually when I could speak again.

  “Is it a lewd suggestion?” Jameson raised a questioning eyebrow towards me, a raffish smile plastered across his lips.

  “Surprisingly no,” I smiled holding up a finger in front of him. “No tattoos.”

  His bottom lip protruded out, the smile threatened again tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Where’s the fun in that, Sway?”

  Something seemed different about us. I couldn’t place it but it was there. Instead of taunting, he was teasing. Instead of fighting, he was flirting.

  Or maybe it was me starting it and he was doing it back. Regardless, it was messing with my head though and more alcohol was definitely in the cards tonight.

  Once we made it to the bar, Spencer was shit faced drunk, Alley was pissed because she was wearing an entire bottle of Jack Daniels down her dress, Emma was trying her hardest to stay away from Aiden and his cowboy hat, and Jameson...well poor Jameson looked uncomfortable as ever.

  It might have had something to do with the fact that I bent over in front of him to grab the bottle of Jack Daniels Spencer spilled on Alley, let’s just say I forgot I was wearing a skirt.

  Okay, okay...I didn’t forget. I knew exactly what I was doing.

  This was what I liked to refer to as Pit Lizard 101.

  When the limo pulled up to the bar I wasn’t prepared for the swarm of fans that inundated Jameson when we stepped out.

  Everyone was yelling his name, screaming for his autograph, and I’ll be honest with you, it was a little overwhelming.

  Jameson smiled politely towards the insanity declining to sign anything until he was inside.

  After hearing them, I intended on just staying in the car until Jameson grabbed my hand. “Come on, Sway.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll wait here.” I suggested.

  When our eyes met, I knew he saw my fear.

  “Don’t leave me hangin’...you promised.” Jameson intoned, leaving me weak and vulnerable. I hated being either one.

  “I hate you,” I seethed stepping out.

  Jameson watched my every move as I stepped out shamelessly let his eyes rake down my body. With a devious smirk, he slowly winked at me. “You don’t hate me honey and you know it.” Pressed against his body, his lips dipped to my ear. “I have a surprise for you tonight anyways.”

  If it involved his camshaft, I was all for it.

  Eventually we maneuvered our way inside the bar. Spencer and Alley were arguing, Emma and Aiden were inches away from each other and looking like they are about to kiss any second, and I was so close to Jameson’s side you’d think we were glued together.

  And believe me, I wasn’t complaining.

  Once inside, it wasn’t hard to spot Tommy, our friend from high school and the mechanic for Jameson’s sprint car team. Not only was his orange hair loud and stood out, but he was also chanting Jameson’s name as he stood on the bar.

  My eyes scanned the bar looking for familiarity, low lights set a comfortable ambiance.

  Most of the crew was waiting at a large table the bar reserved for us, alcohol flowed in abundance. When we reached the table, Kyle pulled Jameson into a hug, which meant Jameson had let go of my hand.

  Damn it.

  What surprised me was once Jameson let go of Kyle, he quickly reached for my hand again.

  Maybe he does have feelings for me. Maybe he’s loved me just as long.

  Unlikely, but a pit lizard could dream.

  The bar was uncontrolled. Media, fans, various team members, sponsor reps and even other drivers teemed the very edges of the room.

  Everyone, including me, wanted a piece of Jameson. Everyone wanted to talk to him about the race and the win. Everyone wanted to get a picture with him...wants, wants, wants.

  I’ll tell you about wants...My want was working overdrive as I observed him working the room, shaking hands with everyone and mingling.

  I had a feeling he didn’t know who most of these people were but he pretended. I on the other hand, had no idea who anyone was until Alley and Jameson took me around and introduced me.

  “This is Melissa Childers.” Jameson said motioning with a tight nod to the short brown haired woman standing before me. “She’s a public relations rep for Simplex.”

  “Hey dude,” Tommy threw an arm around Jameson. “Justin and Tyler just flew to Terra Haute for tomorrow’s race. They said to tell you congratulations and this girl hello,” Tommy tugged on my hair.

  “Thanks.” Jameson replied with a wide smile.

  Melissa, who remained beside me, shook my hand and chatted as Jameson moved through the crowd to greet fans and a few other drivers that made an appearance.

  Seated securely in the corner, wanting to control myself for once tonight, I kept an eye on Jameson from a distance. That alluring mysteriousness circling him captivated me as it always did.

  He stood in the shadows of the bar; wanting a distance he wouldn’t receive any time soon. Watching the crowd, he took on a striking curiosity that just barely overpowered that restlessness in his eyes.

  His shoulders gave a dismissive shrug to an unheard question from the man seated next to him in a dark suit. The man walked away after that leaving Jameson to himself for a moment until the next person requested his attention. It seemed to be an endless cycle and I knew then why he stayed in the shadows.

  Beneath the many layers of Jameson was that vulnerability about him that you didn’t see too often in racers as I’ve said. Or was it that defining edge I spoke of?

  Personally, I think most racers possessed this but you didn’t know them well enough to be aware of it.

  Jameson seemed indifferent to the fans surrounding him, yet he didn’t make an attempt to leave. A nervous energy swept from him in waves charging and pulsating throughout the bar. I could feel the change in him. He was still the same but I was afraid of what he had to be on the outside to protect him and this dream.

  Even with the pliant indifference he had tonight, I could still see that restlessness and the loneliness this lifestyle had created over the last few years.

  His eyes were distant, unseeing for a moment as he searched the crowd appearing to be looking for someone, me maybe.

  Looking at him now you wouldn’t know this was a man who’d just one a race. He appeared annoyed, or maybe it was that restlessness I couldn’t get past.

  Tommy walked by ruffling his hair. The mask of stoicism gave way to the gesture as he cracked a smile.

  Jameson stole a sideways furtive glance my direction. A familiar heat spread over me, he was still that boy I grew to love. He was still Jameson.

  I smiled, seeing the authenticity I’ve always known.

  Another fan approached him for an autograph, his body shifted towards them to offer them a little piece of himself.

  Dragging his hand through his hair, a careful smile formed but I could see he was uneasy with the close proximity of the room.

  A reporter with Fox Sports, made it known she had an attraction for Jameson by basically hovering over him.

  That only made me want to push him against the bar he was leaning against and fuck the boy senseless right in front of her.

  You sound like a jealous high school girl with insecure emotional issues. I told myself. Well I wasn’t in high school and didn’t really have any insecure emotional issues but jealous...party for one please.

  “I’ve see
n that look before, Sway.” Alley whispered in my ear taking a seat next to me at the large dark wooden table.

  So much for my private stalking.

  I didn’t look up quickly finding interest in tracing the cracks in the wood with my fingertips.

  Turning, I glared past her, my eyes focused on Jameson. “Who is that hanging on him?”

  “Ashley Conner, she’s a reporter with Fox Sports.” Alley looked over the drink menu, never looking up. “She does this every weekend.”

  Throwing my arms against the table, I groaned letting my head fall against my forearms. “He’s slept with her—hasn’t he?”

  I don’t know why I asked. I knew the answer just by the way they looked at each other. She was trying her hardest to flaunt her tits in his face and he was looking everywhere else he could to avoid her. Over the years, I’d seen this exact dance between him and nameless pit lizards.

  Alley sighed. “I don’t know,” her tone was dismissive as it always was when speaking of Jameson’s encounters with women. “My contract doesn’t include monitoring Jameson’s sex life. They don’t pay me enough for that.”

  I was on the verge of tears when she turned in her seat and forced me to look at her. “I’m warning you.” Alley pointed at me. “Don’t do what you’re thinking.”

  “I didn’t—” I began and quickly silenced by her murderous glare.

  “I know you and I know what you’re thinking. You think if you sleep with him you can convince him he loves you.”

  Am I really that transparent?

  Trying to hold onto any remaining dignity her glare didn’t destroy, I didn’t say anything.

  “Don’t do it.” She warned once more and then called the waiter over. “Pick something,” she tossed me a menu. “We’re getting drunk.”

  Spencer, sporting a new spider man bandage above his eyebrow, sat down next to me and swung his arm around my chair.