CHAPTER FORTY-ONE CLARKE
Chapter Forty-One
Clarke
Clarke paced back and forth, trying to muster the courage to enter the room. He’d raced in Vegas yesterday, hopped on a five-hour flight to New York, and headed straight to the hospital.
Ceci was right. He’d been so focused on making sure Tilney lost, he’d made a dumb move. And Anker had paid the price. His anger at her for hiring Tilney had clearly been simmering because he never gave a thought to what impact his actions would have on her.
Well, there was at least one person who would be happy to hear he hadn’t been doing well since Miami.
And he was on the other side of that door.
Clarke had put himself behind the eight ball.
This upcoming last and final race in Suzuka was a must-win if he wanted the trophy.
With Anker out, Perez, who had been third, had stepped up his performance, and with Clarke performing like he’d been, Perez had closed the gap between them.
The door to Anker’s room swung open as the doctor left, and Clarke grabbed hold of it. “Can I come in?”
Anker glared at him. “How the fuck did you get past the nurses? Only family members. Given I don’t have any, that means only Ceci.”
Clarke sighed. “So, can I come in?”
“And if I said no?”
“I’d come in anyways.”
“Come in,” he groaned. “I just pushed the button for the nurse. So you’ll have to leave if it’s the cute one with the fine ass and the big, bouncing tits. God, would I love those tits to smother my cock.”
“Anker!”
“What? You never think things like that?”
“Fine, think them, but don’t say them out loud.”
Anker rolled his eyes. “Whatever. So what are you doing here? Want me to absolve you of your guilt?”
“I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. I’m glad to hear you’re doing well and you’ll be back next season.”
“Really?” he scoffed. “Well, you shouldn’t be. Because I’m going to kick your ass. You better win that trophy this season, because it’ll be your last. And while we’re on the subject, cut the crap already. I don’t want to hear that it’s my fault you fucked up your chance at that trophy.”
“How could it be your fault?”
“Trust me” he sneered, “between Sir Perfect Clarke and Wanker Anker, who do you think people are going to blame? Don’t play the martyr. You’ve got a real talent for turning something you did wrong into something that makes you look noble.”
“I do?”
“You do.” Anker huffed as he folded his arms. “We all make mistakes. If we can look them in the face and deal with them and make amends—good, we’re a better person for it.
At least that’s what Ceci’s always telling me.
But don’t hold onto your guilt like it’s some badge of honor.
You make even the people you wronged feel bad for you.
It’s like they feel they need to say they’re sorry you’re sorry. ”
“I didn’t know I did that.”
“Well now you know.”
Philosophical wisdom from Ian Anker? Is there some sort of cosmic force turning the world upside down?
“And by the way, whatever that shit is you’ve got going on with Tilney, don’t dump that on Ceci. It ain’t her fault she hired the dude. Hell, she didn’t. The owners did.”
“I know. I hope she goes back to driving like she’s been talking about.”
Clarke bit his lip, suddenly realizing who he was talking to.
Fuck. Shouldn’t have said that.
If there was anyone who wouldn’t want Ceci to leave Blue Jet, it was Anker.
To his surprise, he saw Anker nodding his head.
“I hope she does too,” he said.
“Really?”
“Yes, really.” His tone was mocking. “She’s good.
I also happen to like her. She’s like a sister to me.
She has to take a lot of shit and not just from me.
I’ve never seen a chick who can take it on the chin and throw it back at you the way she does.
She deserves to be happy. So don’t be a douche and make her unhappy. ”
Clarke smiled.
“Why do you have that stupid look on your face?”
“You surprise me.”
“What can I say? I’m deep.”
Clarke shook his head. “I never thought I’d hear myself say this, but you’re okay, Anker.”
Anker made a face like he was about to be sick. “You’re not going to come over here and give me a hug, are you?”
Clarke chuckled. “Wouldn’t think of it.”
Suddenly Anker flashed a grin and Clarke surmised the nurse Anker had been talking about had entered the room and was now standing behind him.
“Why hello, Nurse, um—don’t tell me, come closer so I can see your name tag.”
Clarke rolled his eyes. It didn’t escape his notice that the nurse was stacked.
“I’ve told you, it’s Stacy.”
Anker leaned forward getting as close as he could to the tag. “That’s right.” He leaned over to one side. “Stacy, I think I might be getting a bed sore. See, I think, right here, on my bum. Can you take a look? Maybe if you put your hand there, you can feel it.”
Clarke’s eyes widened. “Anker!”
“What?”
“Stop!”
“What’s with all the shouting?” Roxanne Windsor said as she walked into the room.
Clarke stared at Roxanne, surprised to see her. She looked just as surprised to see him.
Anker quickly covered himself with the sheet and sat upright.
His smile’s different, thought Clarke, as he looked from Anker to Roxanne. And then he suddenly realized why. His eyes lit up. They didn’t usually do that.
“Hello, Miss Windsor!”
Miss Windsor?
“So, Mr. Anker, did you want me to—” the nurse began to ask.
Clarke could practically hear Anker’s neck snap as he turned from Roxanne to the nurse. “No, no thank you, Stacy. All good here.”
“But you pressed the button. Do you need anything?”
“Oh, that wasn’t me. Clarke pressed the button. What do you need Clarke?”
Clarke’s mouth dropped. “Um. Nothing. I don’t. Need. Anything.”
“He must have pressed it by mistake.” Anker shot him a look. “Right?”
“Yeah, uh, right.”
Shaking her head, the nurse left the room.
“This is nice,” Anker said. “You coming to see me.”
The man was practically beaming.
“I didn’t come here to see you.”
“Oh.”
Shit. Something is definitely off. I almost feel sorry for the dude.
“I heard Leo was here, and I needed to run a couple things by him.”
How could she possibly know I was here?
“What things?” Clarke asked.
“We’re coming to the end of the season, which means the end of our arrangement with Ceci.”
Clarke frowned. Ceci and he hadn’t gone on a date since Anker’s accident. He’d already run all this by Roxanne. What else was there to talk about?
Anker sat up, smiling at Roxanne. “That’s right. So next season, you and I …”
There was a moment of silence. Clarke was waiting for him to complete that thought and he presumed Roxanne was too.
Finally, Roxanne said, “Yes, I’ll come up with some plan of action to help improve your public image.”
“I look forward to it.”
Clarke heard the sound of a match striking.
Weird.
He realized he wasn’t the only one who’d heard it when he saw Anker frowning and looking around.
When it happened again, Roxanne dug into her purse, pulled out her phone, and quickly shut it off. The color of a pink rose bloomed on her cheeks.
Roxanne Windsor was never flustered. But she was now.
And Clarke knew why. He was standing behind her and saw her phone before she’d shut it off.
Roxanne Windsor, the daughter of a Baron, whose family was related to a selection of viscounts, earls, dukes, and duchesses, not to mention some distant relation to the British royal family—was on a hookup app? A hookup app for people looking for kink?
“Okay, well,” Roxanne said, turning her head, glancing at a vase of flowers. “Those are pretty.” She bent over them and sniffed. “They smell heavenly.”
“Would you like them?” Anker asked.
“What?”
“I insist. I think they’re nice and all, but they’d be happier with you.”
Happier?
Clarke failed at his attempt to stifle a laugh.
Anker shot him a look before turning to Roxanne.
“I just mean you’d probably appreciate them more. You’re the kind of girl, I mean, lady—who should have pretty flowers around. You probably already do, so what’s another bunch?”
“I guess, I mean, if you don’t want them. I’m not sure how I’ll carry them around today. I have a couple of other appointments.”
“One of the nurses can wrap them up. Clarke can give them your address, and they can send the flowers to your place.”
“Seems like a lot of work for one small bunch of flowers.”
“Oh, there are more. I just didn’t want them cluttering up my room. The nurses took them to the break room. So I’ll have them wrap those up too, and they can send them over as well.”
“I wouldn’t want to take them from the nurses.”
“Oh, they don’t want them. One of them was just telling me they were going to throw them out because the smell, you know, it’s not good when you’re trying to eat.”
She nodded. “Oh. Okay.” She looked over at Clarke. “Well, I’ll wait for you out there.”
Once she was gone, Anker pointed to his cell phone sitting on a table in the corner. “Hey, can you hand me my phone?”
Clarke picked it up and gave it to him.
Anker began dialing. “Okay, well I guess we’re done here. Don’t think any of this makes us pals. It doesn’t. I’m getting back on that track and when I do, I’m going to kick your ass. And kick it fucking hard.”
There’s the Anker we all know and love—well, some of us love, in a weird, perverted kind of way.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less, Wanker.”
Anker was already on the phone. “Bloom and Company florists? Oh, hold on a minute. Hey, Clarke, don’t forget to give Roxanne Windsor’s address to the nurses’ station.
” He returned to the phone. “Sorry about that, I want to order some flowers. What kind? All the kinds you’ve got.
How many? Whatever you’ve got in the shop. I mean, all of it.”