Smokin' & Spinnin' (17 page)

I sigh, “A mystery…there’s that word again.”

“No!” Ryan immediately cuts me off. “That is your word, not mine! Isn’t obvious to you by now that I care?”

I snort. “I have never been one to confuse sex with care or concern.”

Ryan rolls his eyes at my statement, but I can tell he is losing his patience with me.

“OK.” I acquiesce. “Look…it really isn’t a big deal. I’m trying to move past it all. That is why I don’t like to discuss it. But…I was engaged.”

Ryan’s eyes light up, surprised.

“Yes…and about two weeks before the wedding, I caught the bastard with the bitch formerly known as my best friend.”

“Damn!” Ryan exclaims as he whistles through his teeth. I raise my eyebrows at his outburst and open my mouth to speak, but he stops me before I can say another word. “Whatever you are going to say, don’t! I will be damned if you are going to compare me to him. I mean, you don’t even know me!”

I laugh out loud. “I know enough!”

The look on Ryan’s face begs me to continue, although I know I have already said too much. Conflicted, I begin again, “I just didn’t see it coming, you know? And what makes me the maddest is that I am smarter than that. All the signs were there. Brooke even tried to warn me, but I refused to believe it. I was angry at myself for being so…so stupid!”

Ryan watches me intently as I go on. I can now see the strain of concern on his face. It makes my confession easier.

“I mean, I let this asshole drag me around for years. I put my own career on hold, waiting on him to finish college and get his shit straight.” I point an aggravated stare to Ryan. “And then I find about them.”

My face burns as anger wells up inside my body, an emotion that I refuse to relive again. And I quickly remember myself.

“Why am I telling you all this?” It makes my stomach roll with nausea to think that I have divulged this information. I push my croissant back in disgust.

“I think you are being way too hard on yourself, Whitney.”

I laugh in mock abhorrence. “You don’t get it. I am from a small town, very small. And I would say, oh…about seventy-five percent of the people in the area knew what was going on, even my freaking wedding planner. The best part about it was I just ran away. I blocked their cell numbers from my phone and didn’t look back. I didn’t have the energy or the courage to deal with it.”

Ryan’s eyes widen in shock either at my outburst or confession, but I am not sure which. I put my head down in my hands.

“I was completely and utterly humiliated. I don’t take well to those emotions, as you already know. But here I am spilling my guts to you, and embarrassment is setting in all over again.” I pause. I can tell Ryan is conflicted because he sits still but doesn’t say a word, no doubt at a loss.

“How long ago did this happen?” he finally says after a brief but too long pause.

I sigh deeply. “Let’s see, about…five weeks ago.”

I watch Ryan intently for his response. His face falls as he says quietly, “Oh wow.”

“I would have run away in the middle of the night if it hadn’t been for my parents.”

Ryan nods as if he understands. Then, he shakes his head. “I didn’t realize…”

I shrug my shoulders. “We don’t exactly ‘talk.’ Besides, I wouldn’t have discussed it, ever, had you not dragged it out of me.”

Ryan eyes me warily like he has crossed some arbitrary line into Reboundsville. I continue to explain.

“The funny thing is that I was so over it, you know. I guess I had been over him, over our relationship, for a while now. I just didn’t know it. Because when I found out, my internal light bulb went off, and I was done.”

Ryan continues to sit in silence. It makes my skin crawl.
What is he thinking?

“What’s that old saying? Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me? Well…I have let one asshole run me over, and I will be damned if I am ever going to let that happen again,” I exclaim as I stand up in defense.

“What do you mean by that?” Ryan snaps in reference to the asshole comment.

“You know full well what I mean, Ryan,” I retort.

I can see a look of hurt flash across his face as he says in a gritted whisper, “Stop it, Whitney. That is not fair.”

I sigh. “It’s six of one, and a half dozen of the other.” I add quickly, “Although, I am starting to alter my opinion of you, especially after the last few hours.” I smile wryly as I take the last bite of chicken salad from the plastic container. “Please don’t make me regret it.”

Ryan looks at me intently, like he is trying to figure me out while processing all the information I have just dumped on him. Then, he abruptly stands up and begins to clear our makeshift picnic. Before I can stand to help him, he is by my side again. He leans down and picks me up off the floor.

“Where are we going?” I question him even though I already know the answer.

“I am going to work on completely changing your opinion of me!”

I throw my head back and laugh as he carries me back into the bedroom.

Chapter 17

I
bound through airport security and step into my gate at Charlotte Douglas International Airport just as the attendant is giving the last boarding call for Louisville, Kentucky. I am getting good at this. I settle into my seat on the US Airways Express jet and think to myself, what a difference a few weeks make. I have never been far from the Georgia coastline, but within the last few weeks, I have become a seasoned traveler.

And then there’s Ryan. The same statement applies to him too. We have gone from wanting to strangle each other to making sweet love in my apartment. Well, all over my apartment is a better assessment. I smile as I remember our last round in my kitchen this morning as Ryan attempted to leave to make his own flight. It all happened so fast that now, sitting here on this plane bound for Kentucky, it doesn’t seem real. I shake my head at my thoughts because I still am mystified about the details.

I am broken from my reverie as the flight attendant goes through safety checks. As the plane begins to taxi down the runway, a pool of dread falls like lead into my stomach, and the graveness of my situation rolls over me like a black cloud. A lump wells up in my throat.
What have I done?

Well, let’s see…Number one, I have violated company policy. Violated? No, I am sure there is a far worse term than “violated” to describe what Ryan and I did last night. My job is toast if anyone finds out. Number two, I have slept with the boss’s son, which directly coincides with number one, I know. It also qualifies for direct disappointment with Jerri. I don’t want to let her down. And number three, I am completely and utterly mortified at my behavior. This is so unlike me. I cannot believe I have crossed so many lines. This is bad.

A series of chills run down my spine as the plane ascends into the sky. I can’t think about all this now. I take my iPod out and secure my earbuds. Maybe some good music will drown out all these thoughts. I select songs on my iPod touch, then press shuffle. This should be good. She always has a sense of humor. The prelude begins as Sade sultrily warbles the jazzy words to “No Ordinary Love.” Yeah, well, no shit, Sade. I make a mental note to download some new music onto my iPod. I lay my head back and continue to listen as she sings to me the words that directly apply to my tryst with Ryan.

Shortly before noon, my plane touches down in Louisville. The track this week is actually in Sparta, Kentucky, which is only about an hour away from my present location. A courier is waiting for me in the airport arrivals, and we take off on Interstate 71 North with minimal chitchat. Instantly, I love Kentucky. The scenery is breathtaking as we journey into the little town of Sparta. Since the track is in a somewhat remote area, I am staying in a little bed-and-breakfast right across the state line of Indiana, but I won’t get to check in until Ryan’s qualifying and press events are over tonight.

My nerves start to build as we approach the track. I can see it looming in the distance. I realize that after last night, I don’t know how to do this job professionally anymore. I mean, we definitely crossed
that line last night. How in the heck am I supposed to act with him?
Professional, Whitney. That is how you act
. But will the new feelings I have for Ryan show on my face? What if it is something I cannot hide? I know I can’t them hide from Brooke at all. She will be on to me in a flash. I am tormenting myself with this internal dialogue, and it is making me nauseous.

When we arrive to the infield area of the track, I take a deep breath to steel myself. I can do this. I will do this. I am dressed casually today in khaki pants and a Team GCR polo shirt and comfortable tennis shoes. My hair is down and loosely flowing over my shoulders, though I have secured a hair band around my wrist just in case it gets unmanageable. I set out to find Ryan’s hauler in the mass of vehicles in the infield area.

After qualifying his #62 Chevrolet today, he has a fan experience in the Bluegrass Club here at the track, which consists of a small question-and-answer session with a few invited guests of the track owners. This event was added at the last minute, and I desperately hope he doesn’t give me hell for it!

Finally, I find the hauler, where the crew members and Ben are all huddled together around Ryan. Ryan is dressed in his cobalt-blue fire suit, but it isn’t completely zipped up. The top of his jumpsuit is resting on his hips, revealing a plain white T-shirt that he wears underneath.
My Goodness!
The mere sight of him stops me dead in my tracks. He is gorgeous. I vaguely wonder if I will ever get tired of looking at him. Immediately, my presence causes the group of guys to disperse. I smile sheepishly, still not used to being the only female on this team of guys.

There is a noticeable tension within the team that I automatically attribute to my arrival. All of a sudden, the paranoia sets in.
Do they know already?

Bobby, Ryan’s crew chief, greets me fondly and sets me at ease. “Hey Whitney, there are a few issues with Ryan’s car this morning, but I think we may have successfully worked them out.”

I can feel Ryan’s eyes on me, but I don’t acknowledge him. I maintain eye contact with Bobby as he continues to speak.

“Problem is…we won’t know until he takes the track to qualify.”

I nod my head. “Is there anything you need or that I can do to help?”

Bobby smiles at me and turns his gaze to Ryan. “Just keep hothead over there in line!”

I groan louding, feigning disinterest and Bobby laughs out loud at me. Finally, I steal a glance at Ryan, who raises his eyebrows at the both of us and walks away. No doubt he’s less than amused by my exchange with Bobby. My stomach rolls with nausea as I watch him head over to the garage area.

So, this is how it is going to be. This is how it has to be. I walk to the back of the hauler and find a place to put my bag up. I didn’t realize how uncomfortable this was going to be.
That’s what you get for not thinking at all, Whitney,
I chastise myself. I have to find Ryan, and we have to talk. Obviously, we cannot work like this. I am already paranoid and anxious. I set out to find Ryan and get this straight. Last night cannot happen again. There are too many factors at stake.

I find Ryan in the garage just as he is zipping up his fire suit. I watch as he gracefully slides his long, slender body down into the #62 Chevrolet race car. I know now is not the time for this conversation, so it will have to wait. Just before he pulls on his helmet, he notices me in the garage. He acknowledges my presence by signaling for me
to come over to him. His demeanor has changed noticeably. He seems happy to see me.

I walk over to Ryan’s Chevrolet. “Good luck,” I say softly.

He cocks his head to one side, looking at me inquisitively. “What’s wrong?”

I shake my head and look away.

“Whitney!” Ryan calls for my attention.

I shake my head again. “I can’t do this,” I say. “I cannot lose my job. I didn’t realize how uncomfortable this would be in the light of day.”

Ryan looks taken aback. “I have to get on the track, but we will talk about this later,” he says firmly.

“No.” I disagree with him because there is nothing to talk about. “I made a mistake. We have to put it behind us and move forward as if nothing happened.” I sigh, “Just do your job, and I will do mine.” And I walk away as Ryan guns the motor of his race car.

I walk back to the hauler to watch qualifying on the monitor. Ryan takes the track effortlessly. He pulls his car onto the mile-and-a-half tri-oval and takes two laps to build speed. The time starts on the third lap. Ryan enters the first corner, holds the car down on the line, and accelerates as he exits the second turn. Then he fires down the back straightaway. His time must be good because Bobby is excited and talking animatedly into his headset. All this NASCAR jargon still has me confused. Evidently, based on Ryan’s performance on the track and Bobby’s attitude, the car is fixed. I continue to watch the monitor as he clears the third and fourth turns and slides across the start/finish line.

Ryan clocks in a time of 29.962, with a top speed of 180.338 miles per hour.
Wow!
The crew is excited and boisterous at Ryan’s qualifying time. His time lands him close to the pole position, but there are several more cars that have yet to qualify, and it will be this afternoon before the starting lineup is determined officially. According to Bobby, the car is “right on,” and all the adjustments that were made prior to qualifying were successful.