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He opened the door and squatted next to her. “Good luck out there,” he said. “Don’t be crazy. Do what you can.”
She smiled. “I’ve got this. I had no idea how much I’ve missed racing. I’m not going to blow it.”
“Just be safe,” he said, his stomach already doing flips.
“Make you a deal. I come in the top three, and you let me race with Hughes Racing for the whole year. Don’t worry, I’ll pay my way.” The look she gave him said she wasn’t just asking about racing. She was asking him to forgive her. To take her back into the fold.
He didn’t know what to say. Did he want to go down that road again? The three-minute warning sound went off. He had to leave the grid. He checked his gut, but he knew the answer.
He leaned in and bumped his forehead to her helmet. “Hell yes!” he said.
He closed her door and gave her a thumbs-up before he left the grid. He felt light, lighter than he had in years. He could feel in his bones how great this season was going to be.
He hurried back into the garage and positioned himself in front of Greer’s screen, pulling on the headset. He was listening to the last-minute instructions Rory and Timo were giving the drivers. The siren sounded, and they took off for the formation lap. A couple minutes later, they came up the straight, and the lights went green just as the rain started falling.
Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to see Kendra standing there with a tall man dressed in a suit. He had dark curly hair and wide shoulders.
“Now’s not the time,” he said to Kendra.
“I know,” she said. “But he says he has to talk to you.”
Dalton turned to the man. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Lorenzo Bianchi. I believe we have some business to discuss.”
EPILOGUE
“On the one hand I can’t believe it,” Greer said as she sat back in Dalton’s chair and put her feet up on his desk. “But on the other, I totally can.” It was good to be hanging out with Dalton and his family. Back where she belonged. It felt like home far more than California or her apartment in Munich. Being here with Dalton teased her with forever and she wasn’t going to be stupid enough to give it up ever again.
Dalton shook his head. “Do you mind?” he asked as he gestured to her feet.
“Not at all.” She grinned up at him.
“Why don’t you go find something to do? I have work.” He rubbed his face. The gestured tugged at her heart strings. He was under so much pressure. The cheque from her insurance company was going to help but it couldn’t solve all his problems.
Time to take his mind off his troubles, ““Still, it’s pretty hard to believe that Brian tried to kill Claire.”
Dalton sat on the credenza that was on the side wall. “You were the one that said he tried to push her down the stairs. Maybe it was an accident.”
Greer tilted her head and bit her lip, remembering the incident. “No, it wasn’t an accident. He did it on purpose. If he hadn’t worn those super rare sneakers with the orange 7-11 logo on them, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it. But, later, once I saw those on his feet, I knew it was him on the stairs and pushing Claire wasn’t an accident.”
“Have you heard from Haas? Did he tell you if they’re going to prosecute?”
“Haas said since his actions could’ve been misconstrued, it would be difficult to prove that Brian did it maliciously.”
“So Brian gets off with a warning.”
She nodded. “Not fair but Claire declined to press charges, so it wasn’t going anywhere. They’re wrapped up in dealing with the fake will and all that nonsense anyway. Probably better to work as a team since they stand to inherit everything between them.” Greer hated to do it but she had to ask. “What’s going on with Bianchi?”
Dalton crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve had Hank go over the will and it’s sound. We could challenge it in court. Since the cancer was in Dad’s brain before he redrafted the document, we could claim he wasn’t in his right mind. But, honestly, that takes a lot of money, money we just don’t have.’ He heaved a heavy breath. “Even with the insurance cheque, things are going to be tight. There isn’t spare money to launch a lawsuit. Never mind the fact that Bianchi is rich. He’d bury us.”
“Maybe he’s not interested in being part of the team. Maybe he’ll let you buy him…” Her voice petered out as Dalton shook his head.
“I tried that. I had Hank ask him. No dice. He wants to stay part of the team. I just wish to hell I knew why. The whole thing is such a mess. If Dad weren’t already dead, I’d…”
When he didn’t finish the thought, she asked, “Are you going to talk to Bianci? I mean I know you fobbed him off at the track and you’re having Hank deal with him but maybe talking to him face to face would bring some clarity.”
“Maybe,” Dalton said and shrugged. “For now, it’s back to business. You should be practicing. Those races aren’t going to be easy to win you know. You’re rusty.”
