6. Chapter 6
Chapter six
“ H ey, busy bee, do you have time for some lunch?”
I look up from my video editing, which has taken me longer than I’d like, to find Marny smiling in the doorway of the office. I scowl down at my primitive editing work on the complicated software and want to punch my screen, but push the frustration away to return her smile.
“Hey! Yes, I could definitely use a break. I think I bit off more than I can chew with these intros. Editing one video so it looks good is one thing, but splicing together a whole bunch and making it seamless is a little outside my realm of expertise.”
“More videos, already? You’re a total go-getter.” Marny slides onto the couch next to me and pulls her knees up to her chest. “Paul loved the videos yesterday. I’m sure these will be fantastic. ”
I sigh and feel a small weight release from my shoulders. “It’s so good to hear that Paul is appreciating this. I just want to help the team and make this season a good one.”
“Trust me, you are doing it. I mean, originally, the plan for adding a promo model was just to bring more attention to the team at events. Finding out what a perfect fit you are, and seeing how much you are willing to offer, has been more than we could’ve asked for. We’re so happy to have you working with us.”
A lump forms in my throat as a smile stretches my face. “Dang, Marny, way to make a girl feel good about herself.” I lean over and bump my shoulder into hers.
“What got you into creating videos? Was it your job back home?”
“Oh, no way. I was a...office manager, but I worked a lot with the social media person for our...company. He showed me a few things to create and edit videos, but I’m not very experienced.” I blow out a breath, thankful I could be completely honest with Marny without giving away the true nature of the “office job” I worked at Jensen Performance.
Marny nods. “So how about lunch? I brought a truckload of food and expect you to get your skinny butt over there first before they gobble it all up.”
“I like skinny butt better than fat ass,” I mumble, closing my laptop and sliding my feet to the floor.
“Who called you a fat ass? I’ll show them a fat ass, and then my fist.” Marny looks furious and I hate to admit the truth.
“It was just something said in anger the other day. I didn’t take it seriously. ”
Marny gives me a knowing look and squeezes my shoulder. “Griffin.” No question, all statement.
I cringe at my transparency. “Yes,” I admit. “I’m okay, though. Wyatt says he’s just jealous of the spot I’ve carved out on the team already.”
“Wyatt sounds right. That’s not something I would say often, but in this case, it works. We’ll talk to Griffin again. He needs to cool it or else Paul will get tired of this and replace him. It’s been a lot to deal with, between his track antics, and his recent bad behavior where you are concerned. It blows my mind that he would be anything but the charming gentleman he normally is when it comes to a girl.”
“So it’s just me, I bring out the worst in him?” My chest caves in with the weight of the bad match we’ve made on this team. All I wanted was to find my place outside of the family business where I could be seen as an individual in a fulfilling position. Instead, I’ve found myself at odds with the star driver of the team and fighting him at every turn.
“No, stop it. You haven’t done anything. Griffin is responsible for his behavior and reactions, not you. From what I can tell, you have done nothing to warrant this, which is why we insist he stop it. Now, forget about that for a few minutes and come eat. I was serious about the boys eating everything.”
I follow Marny out of the office and find a pickup truck backed up to the garage door, the tailgate down and loaded with food. She was being serious about a truckload of food. I grab a paper plate and load up on salad, fruit, and lunch meats, skipping the delicious looking carbs that are in abundance. Just two months of watching my figure and I can have my fill of them again .
The team is scattered around the shop, sitting on folding chairs or leaning against the walls, all shoveling food into their mouths. Ryan catches my eye and waves me over. He grabs a chair and drags it between his and Cole’s. I plop down and pick at my salad as Cole continues to talk about strategy and tuning with Ryan.
“As long as they stick to their lines, it should be fine. The qualifying shouldn’t be an issue. Both Wyatt and Griffin are great drivers and get the style, line, and angle right on any course. It’s the second day tandem events I worry about. Wyatt has been understeering and breaking drift in practice when he’s chasing Griffin. When he leads, he’s fine, but the pressure of being the following car gets to him.”
“I thought he worked the understeering out? He’s chased me a few times recently and he’s been great. Maybe it’s that the 350Z has too much power to follow at a slow speed. He’s got that drag racer mentality that has him mashing the gas on the start to build speed and close the gap between the lead and him. He doesn’t need it so much to break traction and initiate drift. Or maybe it’s just Griffin being aggressive that freaks him out. I guess that’s the best way to prepare for these competitions, though. You want that element of aggression in practice to get you ready to face unknown drivers in head-to-head matches.”
“I wish they had more time to feel out the cars before this race. It’s going to be interesting tomorrow, to say the least.” Cole takes a big bite of his sub sandwich and chews thoughtfully.
“How are the videos coming?” Ryan asks before he opens a bag of chips and inhales a handful of cheese dust .
I set my plate in my lap and swallow the strawberry I just bit into. “Frustrating. I think I need to keep the videos separate, instead of fusing them into one like I had originally planned. I’m just not that experienced with editing to make it work.”
“Hey, that means shorter videos. People prefer those to a long piece, anyway,” Cole says around a bite of sandwich. He swallows and continues, “I do, at least. Give me a two-minute clip and I’m happy. Twenty minutes? You’ve definitely lost my attention after maybe five.”
“Good to know.” I sip my water and think about my video work. “That actually makes me feel better about it. I should take my food and finish those up so I can get them out with some time to run back to the apartment to shower.” I stand and smile at the guys. “Thanks for the help.”
“You don’t have to work through lunch, girl. I’ll give you a ride back soon if you want,” Ryan offers.
“Nah, I’ll be good. Thanks, though.” I tuck my water bottle into the crook of my elbow and head back to the office with my plate balanced in my hand.
A heated exchange coming through the open door brings me to a halt before I make it to the office. Paul and Griffin are arguing inside. I feel like a total eavesdropper for wanting to listen, so I turn around to leave until I hear my name.
“What is it about Shelby that’s gotten under your skin?” Paul asks, unseen.
And now I’m officially staying to listen in.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. She’s nothing.” Ouch. Thanks for that, Griffin.
“You are being a total jerk to her. Normally you’re the nicest guy to any lady who comes within a mile of you. Why are you treating her like dirt? She’s just here to help. Wyatt said you made her cry today.”
I hear an exhalation of breath, I assume from Griffin. I didn’t cry, but I sure felt like it. Stupid Wyatt, ratting me out to Paul.
“She’s a pushy little brat who came in here with a head full of ideas of what she wants us to change. I don’t need to change. And she’s disrespectful of the cars.”
Paul whistles. “She’s under your skin and you can’t even see it. You’re the only one who seems to think she’s pushy. She’s been nothing but supportive and helpful. You just don’t want to admit she’s doing a good job and you like her.”
Griffin scoffs. “I like her about as much as a broken axle.” His confident bravado is tellingly missing from his words. It doesn’t dampen the blow to my ego.
“Seriously? The rest of the guys are tripping over their dicks whenever she’s around, and they haven’t seen her dressed in her little outfits and fully made up yet. All they see is a sweet girl who likes cars, which is enough. You, on the other hand, have seen it all. You trying to tell me you don’t think she’s a hot piece of ass that you’re dying to bag?”
Whoa, Paul. Simmer down there, married man.
“I didn’t say she’s not smoking hot, but what promo model isn’t? They’re a dime a dozen at these events. It’s her bossy, know-it-all attitude and pushy way of changing things that bother me.”
“Change is good, bro. We need the kind of change Shelby is bringing.” He sighs, and I hear the papery sound of his hand rubbing across his face. “I can’t afford to get you guys to every race this season on my own. I don’t even want to think about what comes after the California Circuit, because hauling our rigs across the country is a total no-go right now. The shop being slow is going to ruin us financially. Last year we at least had plenty of jobs that made it happen. I thought bringing Wyatt on this season would be a piece of cake, but the numbers don’t lie. If the shop had a year like the last, it would have been easy, but we’re hurting now.”
I lean against the wall outside the office, torn between leaving immediately or continuing to listen. I have no right to stay, but I feel glued in place, needing to hear where this is going.
“So let’s give ’em hell this weekend and show Southern California that Smoke and Mirrors is the place to get your rig made into a beast. We can do that with our driving.”
“Shelby can do it with a few videos, man. I’ve had serious interest pour in since she posted her videos yesterday. I need that, and you need to play nice, or else...”
“Or else what, Paul?” Griffin’s quiet voice is steel wrapped in ice, so cold it would burn.
“We can’t afford to let your hot head and bad attitude scare off any more sponsors. Either you make nice with Shelby, or you’re out.”
“I can’t believe you would pick a chick over me. We’re family. She’s not even guaranteed a spot with the team after this season. Here you are, wasting money paying a set of boobs that would be better spent on race entries and tires. I thought you were better than that, Paul.”
I scurry away when I hear movement, intent on avoiding being caught eavesdropping. My heart pumping hard in my throat, I make it outside and find Marny packing up the leftover food. I control my breathing and dump my half-full plate into the trash bag that hangs from the tailgate. I busy myself helping her while doubt niggles at my brain.
A bitter thought has my mouth twisting into an unpleasant snarl. Griffin was right. Paul is wasting money on me when he needs it so badly to afford the competition costs. If I want to get paid, I’d better bring in a ton of business and help them secure enough sponsorships to at least cover their race fees. Then I won’t feel so guilty knowing what I’m costing the team.