3-Julian
My favorite headquarters perk is the gym and private showers. I spend an hour on the treadmill, then switch weights five days a week. For all that, it’s tame compared to the brutality of a race day.
The treadmill beeps, and I turn it off and slow my steps. My phone's clock tells me Boone is in the garage, and his sister is with Maddie.
Perfect timing because I made a bargain, and my part is now due.
“There you both are. Let’s talk.” I slam the wooden door shut.
Maddie and Sarah pause their conversation while Maddie slams a binder shut. Like I care about the contents.
“I’m not cleaning up your mess, Julian. I don’t work here anymore,” Sarah says. She shares her brother’s dark hair and eyes but lacks Boone’s intimidating stare. Her hands on hips don’t frighten me either. “What did you do this time?”
They think this is about a woman. “It’s about Lily.” Okay, so this is about a woman.
“Pete’s daughter?” Maddie asks. “What’s wrong with her?”
“What did you do to her?” Sarah asks.
Enough false accusations have been leveled at me that their questions hardly register. Besides, I can appease Sarah with easy humor, and Maddie is always polite. Respond in the same manner, and she’ll reciprocate. “I behaved like a gentleman. Not a line or boundary crossed. She’s in the workroom right this very minute.”
“If she needs help, tell her I’m glad to arrange extra support,” Maddie says. “I’ll check on her this afternoon.”
That statement right there is the problem. “When was the last time either of you talked with her? Not a check-in. An actual conversation.” They stare back at me. “You should do so. Soon.”
“We’re missing something. Julian, I swear to god, if you touched her…” Sarah says to threaten me.
It doesn’t work.
“I’m thirty-two, and she’s ten years younger than me,” I remind them. “Be serious for a minute.”
Sarah’s eyes narrow, but she backs down. “Good point.”
If any doubts about Lily’s situation remained, they’re gone. Sarah moved on to her next project, convinced she’d fixed everything behind her, while Maddie was so busy keeping her boyfriend happy that she had no time to check on her employees.
That leaves me as Lily’s only friend in this place. I relate because we can both be invisible around here.
“She’s being wasted right now, so I have a better solution. It’s one she’ll enjoy, which means Pete will be happy.” Maddie leans in. Boone is determined to keep Pete around as long as possible, and Maddie shares the same goal. “I need an assistant, and Lily is available.”
“You want Lily Webb to work for you?” Sarah asks. Her voice drips with suspicion. “Pete’s daughter?”
I ignore that. “It’s the playoffs, and I’m pushing to expand racing circuits next year. It worked out well for you,” I say, indicating Maddie. “You started as Boone’s assistant.”
“Yes, but-” she interrupts.
They’re also now engaged, but I don’t bring that up. It’s not relevant.
“Lily is ten years younger than me,” I repeat. “Have I ever broken workplace rules before?”
“Only if she wants it,” Maddie says. “I hate to see her unhappy.”
She would need to see Lily to make that judgment. “She isn’t.”
Sarah’s curious gaze studies me, but she doesn’t push. “It’s not my call. Like you say, I’m not an employee.”
She’s part owner of her husband’s company, and she is still here all the time. Their headquarters is under construction in the lot next door, so she’ll never leave.
“It’s settled then, and you two don’t forget to go talk to her.”
∞∞∞
“Are you looking forward to Sunday?”
“Wow, Chris. You’re going for the tough questions today.”
“Is that concern we hear?” Chris Williamson is part of NASCAR’s media team putting together a short podcast series for the playoffs.
“It’s racing, and even the worst racing is a good time. This race will tell us who’s going into the round of 8. I intend to be there.”
“You sound confident.”
Extremely confident. “We have a great car, and our crew is on point. It’s difficult to imagine a better place for us.”
The Cup championship would be incredible, but even the final four is an accomplishment. My contract negotiation is next season, and I want more racing. Both desires are complicated with a boss who doesn’t like me and is also my competitor.
“Okay. Five questions. You ready for them?”
“Shoot.”
“Who would win in a fight? You or Boone?”
Me. I sacrificed my family for my ride. That’s the worst sort of dirty fighting. “Tough one, but I’ll give it to Boone. He’s aggressive and one of the most disciplined drivers on the track.”
“Plans between the season?”
The fucking holidays are the worst time of the year. I spent Thanksgiving last year eating Chinese and watching old war movies. “We’ll start with a long nap and a trip somewhere warm.”
“Favorite post-race meal?”
Alcohol. “I’m not that interesting. A turkey or ham sandwich. Something easy.”
“Will anyone special be trackside with you this weekend?”
My family dug my grave and danced over it. Julian Murphy Senior is sitting by his phone right now, waiting for the day I beg his forgiveness. No one has ever cheered me on. No one fucking cares if I come in first or last. “It’s a sold-out race, and will be an exciting crowd for sure.”
“Well, we here on the Racing Replay wish you luck at Charlotte this weekend.”
I sit in the audio booth after the interview ends. Chris’s questions are the same for every driver and not aimed at me. They’re meant to be light-hearted and fun to generate fan enthusiasm.
That doesn’t mean I’m not pissed off. Dad’s ghost sits next to me in every race.
∞∞∞
“You’re still here.” I release a breath and let my shoulders relax. The afternoon schedule puts me in the sim room, and here I am in a neglected workroom. “Your afternoon class starts soon, right?”
“I leave in an hour.”
Lily’s hair is in matching loose braids again. She’s worn them every day since I complimented the style last week. When I first commented, her stricken expression relaxed afterward, but her embarrassment was still apparent. Lily spent the rest of the conversation pulling on her hair, only stopping when she sensed I noticed.
I called the style flattering, and it was, but the word in my head was fresh. I wasn’t comparing her to a piece of fruit or calling her young. Lily is trying to break a habit, and she trusted me enough to do it in my presence.
When we met over a year ago, her messy hair hid a heart-shaped face with cheekbones that blended into a perfectly tapered chin. It also meant I missed her chocolate brown eyes.
If I’d been a dash more patient and considered her as an actual person, our friendship would have started way back then. Of course, that would require me to be someone I’m not.
“Hang out with me until it’s time to go,” I say.
“I’m supposed to work on this project.”
Lily finds the task overwhelming, and her lack of interest makes the problem worse. I can fix that. “Not anymore.”
“A temporary break, but only if you don’t tell anyone. It’s still my work time. Oh, I have something for you.” She leans down to rifle through her backpack. Lily wears another short skirt, dark blue with a geometric pattern this time. Does she know that she has fantastic legs? Probably not. “I finished this last night.”
“You read it? But you said it wasn’t enjoyable.”
“Well, it wasn’t. It’s not my style, and the characters are awful. Also, most of the dialogue was painful.” Lily shrugs, and then her lips tilt down. An apology is coming. “I’m sorry it took so long. It’s difficult to make myself pay attention sometimes.”
“No judgment here.” I’m supposed to be in the sim room, which makes two of us. She did it for me. I bite my lip to avoid thanking her. Lily gets uncomfortable with effusive thanks or compliments. To her ears, they sound false or untrustworthy, which I get. “I come bearing good news. Your time here is done.”
“They’re firing me?”
“What? No. You’re out of this room. Maddie agreed you should be my assistant.”
“I’m not fired? I work for you now.” She yanks on a braid and then rubs at her scalp while avoiding my eyes. “Do you want me around? I’ll be in your way, and I don’t know how to be an assistant.”
“It will be easy because I only require one thing.”
“What?”
“Hang out with me sometimes.” Be my friend.
∞∞∞
Matteo is inside, waiting for me. Music wafts out from the club, and people stream in and out the front door. It’s hectic for a weeknight, which is perfect for me.
I turn off the engine and hesitate, suddenly not in a party mood. No one will cheer me on at Charlotte in a few days, and I somehow failed to convince Lily her new job role isn’t a punishment. It was a favor for a close friend, and I bungled it.
I quickly press the button on my phone because any delay means an excuse to put it off even longer. The contact name still makes me laugh. The Monster Man. It struck me as hilarious several years ago, and now it’s a bizarre form of prophecy.
“Hi, Dad, it’s me, Julian. Your son,” I say as soon as the beep sounds. He never answers, and this night isn’t any different. “I’ll be in Charlotte this weekend for the playoffs if you want to watch. We have a great car, and I’ve been working my ass off this season. I thought you and Mom could cheer me on. I hope all is well. Call me back when you have a minute.”
I end the call. He won’t call back, and he won’t tell any other family members I reached out. My occasional check-ins are turning into self-torture.
Putting him out of my mind, I enter the club to find Matteo and a couple of local drivers sharing a table. Perfect. Other than him, they’re strangers, which means no deep conversation and zero expectations.
“Ordered for you,” Matteo says as a greeting. He passes over a glass bottle, and I take a swig. “How’s life back in the prison cell?”
He’s referring to Boone Rivers, our mutual boss, and Matteo’s most hated person. “He’s been in a good mood lately. The boss man is almost cheery, with both of us in the playoffs and his wedding coming up.”
I check out the crowd and frown at how many remind me of Lily Webb. Sarah’s accusing question comes back to me. There’s a ten-year gap in age between us; besides, Lily is a great friend.
The women here are all strangers.
Perfect. “It’s time for me to be social.”