I shrugged, letting out a breath.
“Feeling antsy, I guess. It’s probably just the first race coming up. You know how I get,” I said, hoping that would be enough to convince Nick to drop the conversation.
Even as I was saying it, though, I knew that wasn’t really what was going on. At least, that wasn’t all of it. There was more, I just didn’t know exactly what. I couldn’t put it into words. I got a brief flash of lush hips and a distracting smile, but I ruthlessly shoved it down, swallowing it and chasing it with a guzzle of beer. I couldn’t let myself think that way. It wasn’t about her. I couldn’t let it be about Merry.
“Yeah, I know how you get, but this is different,” Nick pointed out. I still didn’t respond, and he gave a relenting nod.
He reached over me and grabbed a handful of the snacks I’d brought out. Still staring at me, he popped a few in his mouth and chewed. I slid my eyes over to him.
“Enjoying that?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. I turned back to the fire, and he leaned closer. “You’d tell me if it was something else, right? Like if you were in trouble or sick or something, yeah?”
His voice had dropped to a lower, softer tone like he was trying to stop it from carrying over to our parents or brothers. He was genuinely worried about me, wanting to make sure I was all right but wanting to keep it between us. I nodded. Even without words, that seemed like enough for Nick, and he sat back in his chair. We sat there silently for a few more minutes, watching the fire and drinking our beer. When Darren and Vince finally gave up on their game and dropped down in other chairs on the opposite side of the fire, Nick got up. He crossed over to them, and I heard him start talking to Vince about the stock market. That was their thing. I’d never gotten into the stock market, though I had some investments a firm managed for me. But the two of them seemed to think of it as another sport.
I didn’t really care what they were talking about. As much as I didn’t want to admit it even to myself, and never would have said it to Nick, I was relieved when he walked away and left me alone again. It was a disquieting, upsetting feeling. I loved hanging out with my brothers, so I wished I knew what was going on now to make me want to just be alone. The thought went through my head that I should call Cole, but I knew my best friend had been dealing with his own shit recently. I didn’t want to drag him down further. At the same time, maybe that’s what we both needed. Just some time away from everything. A night at the batting cages like the old days, smashing the hell out of baseballs and being far too loud and inappropriate, sounded like exactly what I needed. That would shake me out of whatever was going on in my head.
I made a mental note to give him a call after the first race was done and find a time when we could get together.
10
Merry
It was finally the day of my first race. That wasn’t a sentiment I ever thought would go through my mind. It was finally beach day, sure. It was finally the first day of vacation, yes. It was finally the day I was going to sit around in my sweatpants and eat obscene amounts of popcorn, absolutely. But the concept of being excited for a race of any kind was pretty much foreign.
Yet, I’d gotten to that place. I was genuinely excited when I woke up knowing it was the day we’d been building up to, the day we’d finally get out onto the track. Those thoughts went through my mind as I ate a bowl of cereal, my hair a mess, and my bathrobe far from work attire, and I realized how silly I must sound. I’d worked for Freeman Racing for less than a month, yet I was already bundling myself in with the rest of them as if I was some sort of integral part of the process and had any ownership at all over the win or loss. As if the work I did for their social media had become a critical element of their functioning.
Maybe that was actually it. I was just so damn good at my job, I’d gotten myself wrapped up in the energy of it. After all, that was a big part of the purpose of social media for something like a racing company. It wasn’t just about making sure the fans knew when the events were and how to buy tickets or giving them glimpses of the bikes and the tracks. It was about sweeping them up in the furor and making them feel like a part of the team. Giving them a sense of involvement and belonging created excitement and fostered a sense of loyalty. They were much more likely to want to attend multiple races, buy merchandise, and even pay for special events and appearances if they felt like they were some sort of insider who had a true connection.
That made a lot more sense than to think somehow in the last couple of weeks I’d developed a true interest in racing. Except as I got ready that morning, dressing in jeans and a Freeman Racing T-shirt rather than a dress and winding my hair up into a bun on the back of my head rather than styling it or having it hang down, I realized I really was excited. I was truly looking forward to the experience. And I actually did feel like part of the team.
That was certainly unexpected. But not unwelcome.
As soon as I got to the complex, I could feel the energy and excitement buzzing in the air. It was usually far quieter and calmer than I think most people would assume a race company would be, but that morning it was everything I envisioned it might be. People rushing around, noise and chaos, trucks lined up everywhere. There were more people than I was used to seeing in the complex, and even as I tried to identify all of them, I realized I didn’t know who most of them were or what role they played in the spectacle.
Not wanting to get in the way but wanting to capture as much of it as possible, I stood off to the side and watched the preparations unfold. Men brought bikes, tools, and equipment from the storage sheds and workshops and loaded them up on the haulers. Others secured them in place and checked to make sure everything was safe and ready for the trip. I noticed a few people on phones as they ran around, making arrangements and checking details, but I didn’t know what they were talking about.
I’d captured several dozen pictures when Glenda came up to stand beside me. Even the receptionist looked bright-eyed and excited when I smiled over at her.
“Happy race day,” she said.
I grinned wider. “Happy race day. You seem excited.”
“Always am. Race day is fun. Well, race day is a lot of stress and anxiety and causes everybody to go just a little bit out of their minds, but it can also be fun,” she added.
“This is my first one. Tell me about it. What does everybody do? What’s all this stuff? How does everybody handle it?” I asked.
I wanted to whip out my tablet and use the voice recording app I sometimes used to keep notes for myself, but that might seem like I was drifting too close to pretending I was an investigative reporter. I needed to calm down and listen and gather up what I could to incorporate into posts later. Glenda exuded energy as she described the usual race day to me and told me about little rituals and traditions they had. She sounded like she knew them all so well and had such affection for them. It was touching to see how much care she had for the entire thing. I really liked Glenda. She was sharp, smart, and funny when she wanted to be, and tight, controlled, and no-nonsense when she needed to be. That seemed like the exact woman suited to hold down the desk at Freeman Racing.
“Everything ready to go?” one of the men called out to the others just as she finished.
“Packed up and ready,” another replied.
I turned to Glenda.
“I better go find Minnie. I haven’t even checked in with her yet, and I want to make sure there’s nothing special I need to know before we head to the track,” I told her.
She waved and I rushed off to find the Freeman matriarch. She was coming out of the office building just as I ran toward it. I stopped in front of her, and she grinned.
“Merry, I was just looking for you,” she said.
“You were?” I asked. “I was looking for you. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know I was here. I got wrapped up in watching them pack everything up and lost track of time. Do I need to know anything specific before I go to the track? Do I need special credentials o
r anything?”
“They won’t be necessary,” she told me.
“Oh,” I said, hoping I was doing a good enough job of concealing my disappointment.
I’d been hoping I was going to have the opportunity to be right down there in the action with the team. Not only would it let me capture some amazing pictures, it would give me the most authentic experience. But now it seemed like I was being relegated to the general admission area at best, and the backstage area at worst.
“They won’t question you when they see you’re with me,” Minnie said.
“With you?” I asked, not sure what she meant.
“Yes. I came looking for you because I want to invite you to ride with me to the track,” she said.
“I would love that,” I told her, feeling relieved and happy.
She gestured for me to follow her, and we went to the parking lot where she’d parked. I wasn’t going to say anything about it, but there was an element of surprise that she didn’t have a driver bringing her around. With as much money and wealth as Quentin had, I just assumed they would have a luxurious lifestyle. But when I really thought about it, Minnie didn’t seem like the kind of woman who would want to be chauffeured everywhere all the time. She’d want the freedom, the ability to just jump into her car and go where she wanted to go.
“My husband is already at the track with the boys,” she explained when we climbed into her car. “They always want to get a really early start on race days. But I’m not one for hanging around there while they do practice laps and stress over every little detail. Too much for me. I’d rather come here and supervise.”
She laughed and we pulled out of the parking lot, headed toward the track behind the caravan of trucks.
“What’s it like having four sons?” I asked. “That must have been a lot while they were growing up.”
“In a lot of different ways,” Minnie said with a laugh. “But they were worth every single moment of it. You know, you’re far from the first person to say it must have been a lot to raise four boys.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, suddenly uncomfortable and worried I’d somehow offended her. “I just meant…”
“No, I know,” she said. “I understand where you’re coming from. Boys can be loud and rambunctious and messy. But it’s not like I had four of the same out-of-control creature running around my house all the time.” She laughed. “That might have pushed me over the edge. They were fairly well spread out in age, so that helped. But they are also just so different. There are some things about them that are the same, of course. They’re brothers. They aren’t going to be but so completely different.”
I listened as she told me about her sons, listing out all the ways they were different and all the ways they were the same, frequently attributing the characteristics to either herself or her husband. Some of the things I heard were surprising, while others just made me more curious. I liked Darren, the youngest of the brothers a lot, but wasn’t familiar with the other two. As far as I knew, Nick didn’t play an active role in the company, and I wondered why. But it was Quentin who was the real wild card.
Quentin and I were working better together, but it hadn’t taken away my questions and anxiety. I still wasn’t sure if he thought I was doing a consistently good job or not. He rarely gave feedback, and when he did, it was mostly things he wanted me to include or just a brief like on the social media platforms. Of course, that drove me insane. I was still out to impress him and wanted him to think I was doing well. Even if I didn’t want to admit that out loud to myself much less to anyone else. Minnie didn’t give me much insight into Quentin or what he might think of me. She told me about when he was a little boy and his relationships with his brothers, but little about him as a man. It meant I was still going to have to figure it out on my own.
When we got to the track, Minnie gave me a quick overview of everything, and then we parted ways. She was going straight for the team, but I needed some general pictures and wanted to talk to the organizers a bit. This was much more of an undertaking than I expected. When Minnie described the track and surrounding facilities, she didn’t give me an accurate perspective of scale, so what I thought was a quaint little event space turned out to be a sprawling complex that rivaled Freeman Racing but had none of the grass or trees. That meant by the time I found the private booth where I was going to sit, my feet were aching. Sighing with relief, I sat down and relaxed for a few moments, enjoying the cool of the shade and not being on my feet.
Finally, I pulled out my phone and posted some of the pictures I’d taken, along with a video I’d made and some of the written content I’d prepared. I did it as fast as I could, not wanting to miss any of the race. A few minutes later, Minnie joined me in the box, squeezing my hand and giving a slight squeal of excitement as she pointed over toward where the riders were readying themselves. Darren waved at us with a bright smile, and I waved back, laughing at the sheer excitement on his face.
The race itself was insane, more than I ever could have imagined. I wasn’t prepared for the sound or the smell or the intensity. But I also wasn’t prepared for how much I’d love the way it felt running through my veins and pumping in my heart. Not long into the race, I was on my feet, and when Darren came in first, Minnie and I were screaming and jumping up and down, clutching at each other as we cheered.
It was incredible, and I did my best to get as much of it as I could on camera. I looked forward to reviewing everything and pulling out the perfect moments to share.
11
Quentin
I was beyond pumped, already jumping up and down and screaming when the bikes were taking their last bank around the curve of the track. Darren was up at the front of the pack, his incredible performance keeping him ahead through the majority of the race. He was nothing short of driven. It was obvious how much energy and time he had put not only into improving his bike, practicing and increasing his focus before the first race. It had paid off in a major way, and I shouted out an excited celebratory as he pulled across the finish line first. I couldn’t have asked for a better performance from him. It was inspiring to see his dedication and performance, pulling in the first win of the season. That set the precedent and the tone for us. Now the other racers not only saw his impressive skill and newly redesigned and improved bike but already felt a step behind him. It was a psychological element that could be highly beneficial in the races to come.
The thrill of seeing Darren come in first was so high I almost forgot Greg was in the race as well and stopped paying attention. I was so accustomed to only having my brother representing the company, I was just about to turn around to the rest of the team when I caught sight of Greg’s bike dart over the line just a fraction of an instant after the second bike. My cheering became even louder, and I grabbed onto the crew member beside me, shaking him and thumping him on the back. He laughed and returned the pat, joining me in celebrating the tremendous showing for the company.
“Can you believe that?” I shouted over the chaos of the crowd erupting at the end of the race.
“Yes,” he shouted back. “This team is badass.”
“Hell yeah, it is!”
I couldn’t have asked for a better night. We placed ridiculously well in the race, the team was in tremendous spirits, and I knew Merry was there. Even though I didn’t see her during the race, knowing she was there watching gave me a boost. It was her first race, and she’d expressed how excited she was to experience it. I couldn’t wait to find out what she thought and see if she got any good pictures. This was definitely something I wanted to share with anyone who might happen by our social media.
We took off toward the finish line, and my heart warmed when my baby brother came running toward me to jump into my arms. I grabbed him in a tight hug, and we jumped up and down a few times, laughing and cheering. It wasn’t his first win, but every win was exciting, and to land the first of the season was especially thrilling. The season was already off to an amazing start, and I
was more revved up than ever for the rest of it.
“Come on, everybody,” I called out to the crew. “Let’s get cleaned up and head out for some drinks.”
“You’re going to help clean up?” Greg asked with a mock expression of shock on his face.
I nudged him playfully, and we went about cleaning up our area and loading all the equipment up on the trucks. When we were finished, I directed them to a local bar, promising to meet them there. They deserved it. Hell, we all deserved it after that showing. It might not seem like it to the casual observer or fan, but a massive amount of work went into getting ready for these races. And it was going to take just as much work to get ready for the next one. But that was going to wait. Come the next day, it was back to the grind and seeing what we could do to make our first place lead even bigger and take hold of second place as well. But for tonight, we were going to get out, let loose, and have some fun.
We finished loading up, and I headed away from the track toward my car. Ahead of me I caught sight of Mom and Merry walking alongside each other, talking animatedly. They glanced up and noticed me. I waved and they both waved back enthusiastically, grins stretching across both their faces. Seeing that made me smile even wider and a brighter happiness spread through me. It was awesome seeing them so happy, and it made the night even better. I didn’t let myself dwell on why.
“How was your first race?” I asked as I approached the women.
“Amazing,” Merry said.
“Merry sat with me in the company box,” Mom told me. “She was very enthusiastic.”
Both women laughed, and I felt like I was missing something but didn’t really mind. It was cute to see them giggling together and having something they shared. Eventually I’d probably hear the story at one of the family bonfires, anyway.
“Glad to hear it. Did you get any good pictures?” I asked.
Millionaire Boss: A Secret Baby Romance (Freeman Brothers Book 1) Page 6