Chapter 35
thirty-five
LOS ANGELES, CA
“My suggestion is that we use canned pears instead. I doubt your guests will be able to tell the difference, but it’s your call of course,” the caterer said. Serve canned pears? This man had clearly never catered an event for Sharon Silver and her crowd before.
“Let’s go with the arugula and burrata salad instead. Thanks.” Avery instructed the caterer. She took a deep, full breath, confident she’d made the right call.
She turned to Caroline once they’d hung up. “I’m sorry, I know you will have to re-design and re-print the menus now.”
“That’s what I get for trying to work ahead,” Caroline shrugged as she tucked her shoulder-length blonde hair behind her ears. “Okay, I’m going to knock that out now. Anything else you need taken care of today?”
“No, enjoy your weekend. I appreciate all your help this week, seriously,” Avery said. She meant it—Caroline had been such a huge help pulling the event together.
Avery rolled her shoulders back and stretched her arms over her head.
What time was it? Time had lost all meaning over the last week.
She’d spent more hours than she could count holed up with Caroline putting out minor fires.
She’d practically been glued to her desk chair—she wouldn’t be surprised if there was a permanent imprint of her butt cheeks on the seat cushion.
But it was all worth it. She’d been flying through her gala to-do list, and things were coming together, minor produce-related emergencies aside.
She looked down at her watch. Three p.m. Perfect timing, the practice session in Brazil would start in just a few minutes. She could do some busy work uploading photos and descriptions of auction items while she watched.
Her skin prickled as she opened ESPN on her second, smaller monitor.
In her pre-gala, pre-Teddy life, she would have been in Sao Paulo or at least watching without multitasking.
She was no longer purposefully avoiding Teddy.
In fact, she had checked in with him by text more than a few times in the days since he’d gotten out of the hospital.
And he’d initiated too, asking her about the gala and how she was doing.
Like any friend would do, right? Totally a normal friend thing to do: reading each one of his replies a hundred times.
But taking a ten-hour flight to South America when she had so much to do wasn’t practical. Heck, her dad hadn’t even flown down there this weekend. She didn’t want to send mixed signals to him, or to herself. Never again was she going to shirk her responsibilities at home to follow a guy. No sir.
The livestream hadn’t started yet, so the cars must still be in the garages. No harm in sending him a friendly good luck text. It was his first time back in the car after the crash, after all, and the kick-off for the last race weekend of the season.
AVERY—Good luck this weekend!
She wasn’t expecting a reply—he was probably in full work-mode.
He wasn’t close to being in the running for the driver’s championship, but the team was in a tight battle for third place in the team standings, and the number of points he scored Sunday would determine whether Silver Racing ended up third, fourth, or fifth in the standings.
It was a big deal, not only for the team’s pride (and Teddy’s), but also because millions of dollars of prize and sponsorship money were at stake for Silver. And every position mattered.
TEDDY— Thx. You watching FP1?
She felt a little jolt. He cared if she was watching practice.
AVERY— I am. I’ll look for you and Zack and cheer you all on!
See, perfectly friendly reply.
Where was I? Right, two floor seats to a Lakers game and a locker room tour, donated by the team’s GM.
Those should go for at least $7,500. It would be enough to build one of the six courts they were hoping to fund at the community center.
And one court was a start. She found a stock image of the purple and gold logo and uploaded it.
The familiar sound of a race car screaming down a track made her head whip to the other screen. She looked over in time to see both Silvers pull out on the track. Instead of wearing one of his signature Scottish plaid helmets, Teddy was wearing a cheery, sunshine-yellow lid. Her favorite color.
What is that all about?
She zoomed in on her screen to take a closer look. She couldn’t make it out precisely, but it looked like there were metallic-colored drawings on top of the yellow.
She knew how she could find out, but her stomach flip-flopped at the thought of logging into Instagram.
She’d resisted every urge to download the app on her phone since she’d posted the break-up announcement nearly two months earlier.
But it would be the fastest way to get the scoop on Teddy’s helmet.
She’d quickly look at Teddy’s recent posts and then delete it again. No harm, no foul.
Teddy (or James more likely) had, in fact, posted about the sunny new helmet.
She clicked on the photo of it, the silver and gold drawings appeared to be a child’s drawing of sports equipment.
She could make out a not-quite circular basketball and a stick figure person holding a baseball bat.
And then underneath Teddy’s race number 17, was the Silver Charitable Fund logo.
Her eyes moved on to the caption below which read, “Proud to support the Silver Family Southside Youth Sports Complex. This special edition helmet will be auctioned off at the upcoming Silver Foundation gala. Link to bid in bio.”
Avery gasped out loud even though there was no one in the room to hear her.
How had he pulled this off without her knowing?
She swiped to the next photo, which turned out to be a video of Teddy visiting the Sports Complex.
He was shaking hands and giving high fives to kids, and then it cut to him shooting hoops with a few of the kids on the worn, outdoor basketball court and buckled and cracked tennis courts that the foundation’s funds would help fix.
Avery felt her face stretch into a huge smile. Court number two, check.
She shook her head in wonder. When had he been in LA? And why? Maybe her dad had some answers? She bolted out of her chair and ran down the hall, thundering past Caroline’s desk.
“Check out Teddy’s Instagram post,” Avery called to her as she sprinted through the office.
She didn’t stop until she was at the other end of the hallway. She found her dad sprawled out on the leather couch in his office watching the practice session on the wall-mounted TV.
She handed him her phone, “Did you know about this? When did Teddy go to the Sports Complex?” She put her hands on her thighs, gulping air between questions. Need to do more cardio, apparently.
He picked up the remote and muted the screen before he grinned at her. “Pretty cool, isn't it? I thought you’d like that. It was all Teddy’s idea, though. I can’t take any credit for it.”
“When did he visit the Sports Complex? I had no idea…”
He unbuttoned the sleeves of his dress shirt and pushed them up his forearms, “When he was here before Austin doing some sim work.”
The day she had seen him. He hadn’t said a word.
She felt a flutter in her belly. Teddy had gone to the Sports Complex before they’d hooked-up. The possibility that he’d planned to surprise her all that time stirred up every sprinkle of regret that still lived in her body. The-could-have-beens left her with a lump in throat.
“So, he’s been holding on to this helmet since then?” Avery asked.
Her dad scratched his head. “No, I don’t think so.
Teddy reached out to me personally on Monday and asked for Coach Tony’s number.
He had the idea in Miami and needed some help pulling it off on such short notice.
We had to have the kids do the drawings and send them directly to the helmet manufacturer.
In fact, I didn’t know they’d pulled it off in time until you showed me that photo. ”
Huh. Teddy had executed the whole thing and even enlisted favors to get it done since they’d seen each other in Miami.
Her skin tingled at the thought, as her brain struggled to process it all.
Was it a romantic gesture, or was it proof of friendship and no ill-will? The possibilities left her lightheaded.
She would reach out to him to say thank you later after the practice session, of course.
Given how tentative their friendship seemed at the moment, perhaps she should leave it at that.
Thank him for the thoughtful gesture and move on.
No questions; accept the generosity with grace. Like her mom would do.
In the meantime, well, if she was going to accept living with that uncertainty, she might as well take a moment with her dad and watch the practice.
“Mind if I join you?” She could finish uploading the gala items later.
“I’d like nothing more,” her dad leaned over and tossed her a pillow. She plopped down next to him, and he leaned into her, giving her a sideways hug.
“You’ve been working so hard on this gala, kiddo. I’m proud of you. I realize I don’t say it enough, but I’m impressed with what you’ve done this year. I think it’s going to be a big year for the foundation,” he said with a gleam in his eyes.
Avery beamed internally, but squirmed in her seat. This praise for her work was something she was unaccustomed to from her parents. It felt good, but strange, and she didn’t know quite how to respond.
“Thanks, I have been working hard.”
He turned the volume back up on the TV and their conversation veered back into more comfortable territory as her dad pointed out how the cars were handling various turns, which teams seemed to have upgraded their cars since the last race, their usual shared language and passion for motorsport replacing the awkwardness that their newfound closeness brought with it.
The session ended and her dad turned off the TV.