Chapter 37 Regan
THIRTY-SEVEN
REGAN
In the conference building in the infield of Charlotte Motor Speedway, I’m in a Brady Racing polo and jeans, sitting behind a table next to Dean and Ian.
I’m not sure how I pulled the short straw, but here I am.
We are doing an event where local fans get to come in and meet us.
We sign some stuff and take a picture. Easy peasy.
These are the types of events that I really like. Meeting the fans, and usually a lot of young girls, reminds me of how important representation is within this sport.
Things with Dean have been a bit off since Martinsville, and he’s glaring at Ian a bit more than usual. Something is going on between them, I just don’t know what. I wonder if it has to do with the picture Ian showed me at the gala, or if he knows about us and is holding it over his head somehow.
I lean over to Dean to my left so that Ian can’t hear. “What is going on with you and Hicks?”
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it,” he snaps. I recoil at his tone. “It’s nothing you have to worry about,” he adds, making sure his tone is softer.
His smile seems genuine, albeit a bit forced. I furrow my brows together. I don’t fully believe him. There is something going on here, and I want to find out what. I’m about to pry more, then the fans are ushered into the room by the PR manager.
They line up in front of the person they want to see, and a young girl, about eight, steps up to me.
She’s in a shirt with my number on it and my name and a matching Brady Racing hat.
She is beaming as she steps forward with whom I assume is her dad.
They look very much alike—same smile, same almost everything.
“Ohmygod Regan Brady I’m your biggest fan!” the girl shouts, bouncing on her toes.
I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face. Everything with Dean and Ian temporarily forgotten as all my attention comes to the little girl in front of me.
“It’s so nice to meet you. What’s your name?”
“Alex,” she says excitedly, still bouncing. “I hope you’re the one to get in Cup next year.”
“You and me both,” I say with a wink.
She hands me her hat, and I use my marker to sign the brim. I place it back on her head, and she is absolutely beaming.
“Thank you! I hope one day, I can drive race cars like you!”
Her dad frowns a bit, but then recovers.
Racing is an expensive sport, and without funds, it can be hard to get anywhere.
Thoughts of what Dean has had to do just to keep racing surges through my mind.
All the hours he puts in at the shop, working at the diner to make ends meet.
It feels like a hand is squeezing the life out of my heart; not because I pity him, because I empathize with him.
Alex’s dad places a hand on her shoulder. “Alex, honey, we talked about this. We can’t do karts anymore.” His voice is sad as he says it. Alex’s shoulders slump at the reminder.
“Yeah, I know,” she says with such sadness. I want to just hold her in my arms to make her feel better.
“Why don’t you come around for a photo?” I offer. At least I can still make a good memory for her.
Alex skips around the table and her dad pulls out his phone to take pictures. Once we are done, I kneel down to her level so that I can look her in the eye.
“You can do anything you put your mind to. Don’t give up on your dreams. Even if you have to wait a little longer to achieve them.” Alex leans in to give me one final hug before leaving with her dad, and the next fans come in.
Once all the fans have been through, I ask the PR manager for Alex’s dad information for later. I tuck the card she gives me into my back pocket and go to gather my things to leave.
“That was nice what you told that little girl,” Dean says.
“Thanks,” I say, unable to control the smile that makes its way across my face.
His shaggy hair is a little more tamed today, and I really want to run my hands through it to mess it up again.
“Looks like you have a lot of fans yourself.” Though Dean and I have been at odds with each other for two years, being around him now is so easy.
Getting to know him, seeing what’s behind the walls he’s put up around himself, makes me feel important.
As more than just a racecar driver, as a person.
“What information were you asking for?” he asks, gesturing to my pocket where I slid the card.
“Nothing. Just want to see if I can do anything to help her.” Dean is about to say something when Ian slithers up next to him, sucking the joy that was once in the room.
“Way to lie to that little girl,” he sneers.
I huff and fold my arms across my chest. “I didn’t lie to her. You can do anything you put your mind to. You just choose to put your mind to being a dick,” I quip.
Dean snickers and Ian shoots him a look. “You would know about being a dick, wouldn’t you, Dixon?” He shoves past Dean’s shoulder. “See y’all in Atlanta.” He laughs as he walks out of the room.
“What was that about?” I ask, my brows shooting to the top of my forehead.
“Don’t worry about it. Would you like to grab something to eat?” he asks, changing the subject.
“I can’t. Gotta work in the shop. Rain check?”
He nods, and I leave and head out to the parking lot, my mind swimming with what just happened between Dean and Ian. Something is up, and I need to find out what. With this gap between races, it should give me enough time to do just that.