The Player Penalty (SteelTrack Racing #3)

13-Julian

Rivers Motorsports Headquarters, North Carolina

“Our meeting can now begin,” Jake says as he enters the conference room. He adds fake crowd cheer sounds for additional impact.

“I always appreciate a man who tries for grand entrances,” Boone says. “Let’s keep this brief.”

RMS always holds an all-hands meeting after every race, ostensibly to review our results and cheer on every achievement, even the ones that don’t matter. The actual meeting occurs afterward, with drivers and a few other staff members.

“Why is he here?” I ask as Jake takes the chair opposite mine. “I thought that third charter was taken.”

“We have an alliance, and that third charter is taken for the entire year. After that…” Boone shrugs his shoulders.

The rookie was given a one-year contract and hasn’t proven she’s worth keeping around any longer than that. Unless she experiences a freak win, her odds of making the playoffs are somewhere between slim and fuck no. She also hasn’t been especially great at finishing a race, which is another big problem.

Also, speaking of rookies. “Have you seen Matteo’s performance recently? He’s ready for a bigger challenge.”

“Matteo Diaz?” Jake asks.

“The very one. He’ll be in the garage today,” I say. That’s Pete’s territory, and Matteo could use an ally if Boone leans into his asshole nature. “You should put him in a truck or more. See how he does.”

Boone’s black eyes lock on to mine. “Seems he’d have the courage to ask directly than send you in his place.”

“Seems I’m the right one to do it, as I also worked with him for nearly two years. I’ll spot for him, too,” I shoot back.

“Let me check him out,” Jake says, thinking he’s playing referee. “If you want additional feedback, let me see what he’s got.”

“You still owe Derek several races this year,” Pete says for the first time. Jake’s shoulders stiffen at the mention of his old spotter. Boone hired the man out from under him while they were in the middle of their ridiculous feud, both of them thinking they were gaining the upper hand when they were both idiots. “Might be we only need to field one car, save us some costs.”

Why the fuck not? “Throw me in the mix while we’re at it. I’d enjoy racing in more circuits.”

“Julian, do you realize you’re fourth in points right now?” Boone asks.

I thump my chest. “Nothing but raw talent in this room. You two might learn a thing or two from me.” Jake laughs while Boone glowers. “As for Matteo, have Sarah join us for his next race. I’ll ask Lily, and we can make an evening of it.”

I don’t relish her meeting the man again; otherwise, she’ll enjoy herself.

∞∞∞

“We’re not done,” Pete says to me once the meeting ends. He indicates my chair with a sharp glare, and I slink right back into it.

Jake gives a sympathetic shoulder slap on his way out the door.

“Nothing is going on between me and your daughter,” I say once we’re alone because it’s beyond fucking obvious what he wants from me.

“Keep it that way, or I will personally ensure your engine catches fire during every race from now until the end of the season. I brought her into RMS to support her, not for you to use her in a round of Humpty-dumpy in between all the other floozies you go gallivanting off with. Do I make myself clear?”

“Like a perfect piece of crystal.” There are many things I’ve expected in life. Being accused of Humpty-dumpy by a sixty-five-year-old man with thinning gray hair and deep wrinkles is not one of them. “There’s nothing going on between us; you have my word.”

“Your word matters as much to me as used oil from a busted-up Ford. Lily says the same, and as long as it stays that way, we’ll let it be. I think she might even be a good influence on you. It’s now several weeks in a row with you showing a hint of skill behind the wheel. See if you can keep it up. Now go.”

Rather than go, I scram.

∞∞∞

Sweat pours down my back and chest. After Pete’s lecture, if that’s what it was, I decided an extended workout session would relieve some of the stress running through me.

Besides me, Boone runs on his machine while also doing a remarkable job of pretending I don’t exist. He’d make a fortune at it if he could take the act on a world tour.

“You knew what he would say.”

Boone doesn’t smile because he never does, but he can deliver the occasional smirk. “I had an idea. Don’t worry; your contract is safe. Pete knows you’re worth keeping around, even if he makes your life hell.”

It’s the first time Boone described my contract as a done deal. “I meant what I said in there. More circuits and more time working talent.”

Boone doesn’t even slow. “You have existing commitments to keep.”

“And I’m keeping them.”

“For now.”

Adrenaline is flowing in me, which makes me want to do something dumb. I pause the machine. “We just pointed out my performance this season.” It’s the best of my career.

“Let’s hope it continues.”

“Fuck you, Boone Rivers.”

“Is that your best insult?” Boone stops his machine to stare me down. “I’m not even bothered. You want my honest opinion?”

“Is there any other kind?”

“If the funds work out, I’d happily put you in another car. It’s good for the team. You care about developing talent, and that matters to me. A lot. Do it more. Also, you’ve had the best performance so far this season between the three of us. You keep it up and have a shot at the Cup.”

Bristol was already my second win of the season. My performance has been stellar, primarily because of increased discipline, not that I’d admit it to Boone. “I’ve been working hard.”

“You know what I have planned for this place? You’ve heard me say it enough times. It’d be great if you stepped up and took on a bigger role with junior talent. The toughest lesson of these past two years is that I can’t do it all, and I hate that. You’re capable of more, Julian. Your recent performance proves that when you spend less time going out or finding another blonde to mess around with, you get better. How about you try keeping it up?”

“I don’t know what to say.” I truly don’t.

“And for fuck’s sake, be careful with Lily Webb. I need Pete around as long as possible, and messing with his daughter is a perfect way to end that.”

“She’s ten years younger than me,” I say while also wondering who I’m trying to convince. “Nothing is going on between us.”

That’ll need to be printed on a banner and attached to an airplane soon enough.

“Madelyn raves about her, so maybe some of her influence is rubbing off on you, or maybe you’ve learned some discipline on your own. So, tread lightly in that direction. Don’t discard her like all the others, because then your problem is my problem.”

“Got it. Are we done here?”

Boone shrugs, not even bothering to acknowledge the anger in my voice. “I’m aiming for another thirty minutes.”

“Great. See you in the garage later.”

“Perfect, and congrats on the new junior development role. You’ll be fantastic.”

Two wins so far this season, and this is the reward?

∞∞∞

My head throbs.

Today has delivered an accusation of lusting over a younger woman and the damning judgment of low expectations. I’m still tempted to track Boone down, shove a finger in his face, and threaten something about proving them both wrong.

Unfortunately, Boone and Pete skirted uncomfortably close to the truth. There is nothing between Lily and me, at least not sexually. That doesn’t mean I don’t think about it. All the time.

Boone’s accusation regarding my past performance is a fair one. Would adopting his attitude improve my career, or did Lily’s appearance do the trick? The subtle insinuation that I wasn’t good enough on my own isn’t worth acknowledging. My dad said nearly the same thing the last time we spoke, and he can go fuck himself sideways.

And that reminds me….

“Hi, Dad, it’s me, Julian. Your son,” I say as soon as his voice stops. “How was your Christmas? Mine was great. I spent the day arguing with myself about whether to call you. New Year’s was even better. I got drunk off my ass and woke up next to some woman whose name I’d forgotten. Anyway, did you see Bristol last weekend? Probably not. I won- me, Julian. Your son. I’m going for it all. A Cup win. Maybe you should check it out. Or not.”

I slam the receiver against my desk several times before hanging up. The worst part of cell phones is that they don’t allow you to get physically violent over a voicemail message.

At least the headache is gone.

“You seem upset.”

“How do you sneak up on people like that? I swear, you were a spy in another life.”

“I didn’t mean to.” Lily approaches my desk and sets down a blue strip in the middle of it. “I started this Sunday during your race. It took a little while.”

“It’s a bookmark.” A 33 is woven into it with black thread. “It has my number.”

“There’s another one in yellow. It’s not done yet, so it’ll be mine.”

She gave me a present. It’s the first one I’ve received in years. “Nope, that one’s mine, too. Thank you, Lily.”

“You’re welcome, Julian,” she says, and I know Lily is considering what else to say, whether that’s denying her effort or insisting the bookmark isn’t well made.

Compliments make her uncomfortable while I’m desperate for one.

“If you have homework, stay here for it rather than go home.”

My pre-race confession lives between us, unspoken and unacknowledged. I wonder if we will ever talk about it or if we even need to.

Our relationship is between us, and Pete’s threats notwithstanding, there’s a ten-year age difference between us. I can’t forget that.