The Player Penalty (SteelTrack Racing #3)

1-Lily

Rivers Motorsports Headquarters, North Carolina

I don’t want to be here.

“Have you ever been in a go-kart before?” Sarah asks me, and I shake my head. “Well, you’re doing me a big favor. Julian Murphy will be your partner for an upcoming charity race. Do you remember him?”

It’s my first day interning at Rivers Motorsports, and my new boss is already bored with me. It took her two minutes to foist me on someone else.

I don’t want to be here even more.

My expression sours. “We met.”

Sarah notices my unenthusiastic response. “Was he an ass? Please don’t hold that against him. Julian improves with exposure. He’s like poison in the movies where you need to build immunity first.”

What movie is she talking about? In all the ones I’ve seen, people die after ingesting the poison.

“We didn’t speak to each other.” There’s also no reason to expect his opinion of me to have improved. Will I spend my entire first day with him? “Do you want me as an intern? You can say no.”

I’m only here because my father, Pete Webb, demanded it. Some might say I’m lucky he can provide this for me—those who don’t know me.

“Why would I say that? It was my idea. We always need extra help,” she says. Sarah Rivers doesn’t want me here either, although she’s polite enough to disguise it.

My feet grow heavier as I follow her to Julian Murphy’s office. He will make fun of me all over again; I know it.

His office is neater than my bedroom. Stacks of paper cover his desk, and another stack sits on an old metal filing cabinet. A coat rack drowns beneath its coats. It’s still messy.

I want to go home.

“Visitor for you,” Sarah says.

Julian Murphy wears jeans and a perfectly fitting white tshirt. It’s the same outfit he wore for my father’s surprise birthday party a year ago. We didn’t speak, and I’ve never forgotten him. After all, he’s the reason I returned to therapy.

He’s good-looking, and he knows it. His red hair is dark enough to trick you into thinking it’s brown. His blue eyes are friendly but indifferent.

Sarah Rivers introduces us, and Julian offers his hand. I reluctantly accept it and pull away. He forgot who I was, and my palms are sweaty.

He ignores my discomfort, steps away, and says, “We’re about to make go-kart history. The first step is video games. You play?”

“Sometimes.”

He ignores that, too. “Perfect. First, we practice with Mario Kart, a classic in its own time. Then, we work in person. We’re guaranteed to win this.”

“I’ll leave you both to it,” Sarah says, shutting the door behind her.

I want to go home.

“Do you remember me? We met a year ago,” he says.

“It was at my father’s surprise birthday party. We didn’t speak.”

I planned the event perfectly, and then the bakery misplaced the order, and I almost missed the deadline for a college assignment. The misplaced order rattled me, and I accidentally wrote the wrong age on Dad’s birthday cake.

I met Julian Murphy at that party and thought I had stumbled upon the prettiest man in the world. He did not feel the same way about me.

“Right. It was a busy night,” he says, putting a controller in my hands. “We’ll start with Mario Kart and see how it goes.”

Julian busies himself, turning on the television and loading the game.

I pull my hair and take out a few strands by mistake.

“You ready?” he asks.

“Not yet.” I pull a hairband off my left wrist and put half my hair in a loose braid before doing the same on the other side. The style makes me look young, but at least it stops the hair-pulling.

Julian hands me the controller back. “You look nice. That looks cute on you.”

“Thanks.” Cute is a word reserved for ten-year-olds. It’s a faint praise compliment. I drop into one of the office chairs in front of his television set. I cross my legs and then cross them again. “Shall we start?”

My favorite tennis skirt was a great idea this morning, and now I feel exposed.

“You’re uncomfortable,” Julian says, and I meet his eyes. “You don’t want to be here, do you?” He glances at the floor before visibly steeling himself. “This is in the wrong order. I owe you an apology for last year.”

“That was a year ago.” Apologies are always tricky because the other person never means them, and then I’m obligated to accept it. “We don’t need to talk about that.”

“Yeah, I think we do. I said something rude, and you heard me. Weird can be a compliment when you say it to a friend, but not to a stranger. You heard me, and I’m sorry. If it helps, I’m not usually such a big ass.”

“You didn’t call me weird.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Your memory is flawed.” Either that or mine is incredible. We were introduced, and I studied him while trying not to be noticed. I thought his aquiline nose perfectly matched his square jaw. His brow arched at random times when he talked. “You spoke to my father and then told your boss I wasn’t what you expected.”

The lightbulb over his head clicks on and then dials itself up to the maximum setting. “Oh, hell. After that, I said you weren’t a surprise at all.”

“You didn’t think I heard, but I did.” My initial reaction was to assume I looked different from my father, but that was wrong. Julian Murphy meant I looked like a freak. “It’s fine.”

I want to go home.

“I am sorry. That was an incredibly dickish thing to say, and if you give me a second chance, you’ll grow to like me. Everyone does around here.”

His boss doesn’t. My father has spent most of his career working for the Rivers family. He says Boone Rivers considers Julian unprofessional, lacking self-discipline, and a Lothario. He’s kept around because of his driving skills but would be replaced if another, better driver came along.

“Thank you for your apology. Shall we play?” It’s true that I rarely play video games, but I have played this one, and I want to beat him—badly and for the pettiest of reasons.

Three races and a long silence later, he pauses the game. “You’re unnaturally talented for someone who’s never played.”

“I learn quickly.”

“Well, that’s bullshit. You enjoyed beating me.” Julian uses his fingers to draw a smile between us. “That’s good because I deserved it, even if it was only a few rounds of Mario Kart. If we keep going, you’ll keep kicking my ass.”

“Yes, I will.”

“You also think I’m an insensitive jerk, and that’s deserved, but I’m asking for that second chance, anyway.” Julian extends his hand. I stare and do nothing. He probably has one of those electric shock buttons hidden in his palm. “We’re going to become friends, and you’ll see I’m nice. Please.”

It doesn’t matter if I want to be here because my father wants me here. That means I’m stuck with Julian Murphy and stuck in this job. I extend my hand. Julian grabs and shakes it with enough violence that my arm tingles.

“Does this mean we’re done?” I ask.

“You want to keep kicking my ass, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

He laughs, but I didn’t mean it as a joke.

“How about I tell you the latest office gossip instead? Let’s start with the best one. You already met Sarah, but did you know she’s Boone Rivers’ younger sister?”

“That’s not gossip.”

“She’s secretly dating her brother’s biggest enemy, and he has no idea. The whole thing will be a disaster when it comes out.” My eyes grow big because this is interesting. Usually, no one bothers telling me anything. “You like that, do you?”

“Keep going.”

He chuckles. “Nothing happens around here without me knowing. Okay, there’s more. Boone Rivers thinks he’s scary, but his girlfriend gives him orders, and he runs off to do it like some loser puppy dog.”

“I think that’s sweet.” My father has said nearly the same thing.

“Boone’s pit crew sneaks out for drinks and keeps it hidden from the boss because he disapproves. Wood, one of his pit crew members, is seeing someone in accounting. Also, before you ask, that’s his real name. Like a stump of wood.”

“They named him that on purpose?” I frown, feeling pity for someone I have never met.

Julian raises his hand. “That’s what I said. Oh, also, one more thing. This whole place would fall apart if it weren’t for me. No one knows it, but I’m the critical piece that makes this operation work.”

He speaks lightly, but a part of him believes it. Julian’s claim also happens to be opposite my father’s. I finally laugh for the first time since walking through the front door.

“That means I’m lucky to know you, doesn’t it?” I ask.

“Especially if this means you accept my friendship offer.”

One piece of advice my therapist gave me was to pretend something was true while I worked on actually believing it. This way, our actions can create the desired outcome. Julian isn’t my friend; he’s friendly. Nice. “Friendship offer formally accepted.”

He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and smiles. It’s a convincing smile. “Then let’s kick my ass tomorrow and go practice with real go-karts. I’ll buy you lunch after.”

∞∞∞

“It sounds like an adventurous first day,” Dr. Lambert says. “You were anxious about this job the last time we met. Do you feel the same way?”

After the first meeting with Dr. Lambert, I wanted to be a psychiatrist. She struck me as sophisticated and worldly, everything I wasn’t. She still doesn’t know that, and she never will. Like all others, those professional plans faded after a few months.

“Yes, a little. I’m not scared anymore, not like I was before. Sarah regularly asks for my help, which is nice.”

Dr Lambert nods and tucks a strand of wavy hair behind her ear. I copy her as a silent reminder not to pull my hair. That habit is broken, and it will stay that way.

“Dad enjoys having me there,” I say because I know this question is coming. “He asked if I wanted to join him for some weekend races.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That I would think about it. There’s no point; I’d rather study for school right now. Plus, the program starts in the fall.”

“Have you told him yet?”

He’ll worry about me like he always does. “Not yet.”

Dr. Lambert leans forward, which means my homework is about to come. “Here’s your assignment for next time. Tell your father what you plan. Can you do that?”

“I think so.”

“How’s your medication? We discussed increasing your dose last time. Have you made a decision yet?”

I hesitated last time, like I always do. Every increase is a reminder there is something wrong with me. Julian Murphy thinks I’m weird, and my father believes I can’t handle an actual job.

My big fear is that they’re both correct. I swallow. “Can we increase my dosage and see what happens?”

Dr. Lambert smiles like I knew she would. “That’s a great idea. I’ll send the prescription out today.”