Enright Family Collection (98 page)

“What Tony means is that I’ve agreed to help him put together the team he needs to run the business, to help locate the accounting and marketing staff, to make sure the business gets off to the right start.”

“Do you know how to do that?”

Ben nodded. “Tony and I have been discussing this for the past two days. I already know who I’d like to bring on board to balance out the team.”

Tony slapped Ben on the back affectionately. “This will be the biggest news in racing. We’ll produce the best engine that can be built. And we’ll be in business together, just like we’ve talked about for the past eight years or so.” He winked at Zoey. “This is one of those dream come true things for me, Zoey. I’m glad that Ben brought you over this weekend, so that you can share in the fun.”

“The fun?” She raised her eyebrows. Did he think she was having fun, watching her own dreams go down the drain?

“We’re going to have a press conference tomorrow out at Stowe Manor to launch our new venture, since Ben is here and all that. Oh, look, Ben, there’s that bloke from that new racing magazine. I think I want a word with him. Excuse me.”

Zoey and Ben stood silently in the wake of Tony’s zippy departure.

Finally, Zoey said, “So. Tell me your version of this new venture that I’m fortunate to be here to witness.”

“It’s pretty much as Tony said. He finally found an engineer who, he believes, can build this engine.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Well, I did tell you that we had talked about going into business together someday. Of course, I didn’t realize that
someday
was so close at hand. When he called last month, he did tell me that he had something to show me, but at the time I had no idea of what he had up his sleeve.”

“The engine design?” She asked.

“Yes. Zoey, I had no idea—” Ben began, and she interrupted him.

“What did he think you were doing in the States, Ben, that he thought you could just drop your job and walk away?”

“I don’t know that Tony really understood that I was working for my grandfather, Zoey. I think he thought I was on an extended holiday while my ankle healed. Which is partially true. Delaney asked me to come on board with him until I was ready to go back to racing, Zoey. It wasn’t intended to be a permanent job. I thought you understood that.”

“And you’re going to do this? Come back to England to work with Tony?”

“Zoey”—he sighed—“this is something we’ve talked about doing for years.”

“When were you going to tell me?” She frowned, fighting the urge to cry.

“As soon as the details were straightened out.”

“You could have mentioned it last night, Ben. We were together all night.”
I am going to handle this in an adult fashion,
she told herself.
I will be mature about this.
. . .

“We weren’t really talking last night, if you remember”

“We could have been. You could have told me.”
I will not whine, I will not whine.
. . .

“I was going to. But the moonlight came in through the window and you were wearing that little slip thing. . . .” He leaned closer, nuzzling her ear.

Zoey frowned, and he stopped. Bad timing. She wanted answers.

“Zoey, I owe you an apology for not having discussed this with you sooner. Tony just moved far more quickly on this whole thing than I ever expected him to. I thought it would take him a year to pull this together. As it turns out, he’s had things outlined for months. I just wasn’t aware how far he’d gone with it.”

“You’re supposed to be his partner and you weren’t aware of what he was doing?”
I will not be bitchy, I will not be bitchy.
. . .

“He thought he’d surprise me. Zoey, Tony knows how much I love to race, and he knows how disappointed I am that I will not drive competitively again.”

“Is that final? Has anyone told you that?”

“The doctors I’ve been seeing back in the States are the best we could find. They have all told me that my ankle’s mobility will never be one hundred percent. But more importantly, I know it. I can feel it. Sometimes my ankle almost feels as if it’s sticking, somehow, that it’s reluctant to bend. I could never get behind the wheel of a race car knowing that my ankle could freeze up and endanger the lives of everyone on the track. I don’t need anyone to tell me that I can’t drive again, Zoey. I know that I can’t.”

“I’m so sorry, Ben. I know how much you love it.” She turned to him and put her arms around him.

“Well, it’s the way the cards fell, Zoey.” He swayed with her slightly. “And besides, it’s not the end of the world. I love driving, yes, but nowhere near as much as I love you. And if it hadn’t been for the accident, I wouldn’t have been available to come home when Delaney asked me to and I wouldn’t have ended up at the HMP to find you again. All in all, it’s not a bad trade-off. And if you want to know the truth, I’m beginning to think that maybe I am getting a little too old for this.”

“Ben, do you really?” She bit her lip.

“Yes. I really do. I was thirty-three in May, you know.”

“No. I mean, you said you loved me.” She leaned back and watched his face. “Do you really love me?”

“Yes, Zoey. I really love you. More than anything on the face of this earth. Didn’t you know?”

“I wanted you to. I hoped that you would. I dreamed that someday you would. . . .”

“One of my goals in this life is to make your dreams come true, Zoey. We’ll start with that one.” He kissed her. “What else might you be longing for?”

She forced her fears into that small place she reserved for things she could not deal with at the moment, and she tugged on his lapel. “Take me back to the hotel, and I’ll show you.”

“We’re on our way.”

Later,
she told herself as she watched Ben drift into slumber.
Later, I’ll think about what all this means. Later, I’ll worry about when he will leave and when we will see each other and I’ll deal with it. Right now, I want these hours and I want his love and I want him to know how much I love him. And later, I’ll worry about what comes next.

Chapter
27
 

Delaney O’Connor cursed softly while he fiddled with the tangled cord of his telephone.
They can put a man on the moon, why can’t they make a telephone cord that doesn’t wrap itself into a little plastic ball?

“Pauline . . .” he grumbled as she entered the room on quiet feet.

She smiled and removed one end of the cord from the socket that fit into the handset, let the cord dangle free until it was straight, then plugged it back in. Without so much as looking at him, she placed a stack of mail on the center of his desk and said, “Peter called while you were on your last call and wanted to know if he could move up the two o’clock meeting. He’s running a bit late today.”

Delaney responded with a sort of half grunt, half nod, and Pauline glanced at her watch.

“Ben will be here in ten minutes. Shall I have coffee brought in for him?”

“Please.” Delaney nodded and sank into his chair. “And thank you, Pauline. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Pauline smiled her ever patient
neither do I
smile and left the room as quietly as she had entered it.

Delaney managed to remain in his chair for almost three entire minutes before the tension wound tightly around his gut and compelled him to walk it off. He grabbed his cane and began to pace.

For the twentieth time, he flipped open the newspaper that had been express-mailed to him from his London office just the week before. The photo at the top of page five had caused the initial onset of restlessness that had kept him awake every night since he’d first seen it. The camera had captured two handsome men, a beautiful dark-haired woman between them, leaning against the fence right before the start of the British Grand Prix. It was the caption that had stirred such unease within him.

“Anthony Chapman, the Twelfth Earl of Stowe, and former Grand Prix driver Bennett Pierce met at Silver-stone on Sunday to announce the formation of Chapman-Pierce Motors, a new venture which will manufacture engines specially designed to hold up under the rigorous strains of Formula One racing. It is rumored that Nigel Vale, formerly of Ferrari, has accepted the challenge of designing what is being touted as the engine that will set the standard on the European circuits into the next millennium. Earl Chapman is pictured above with Mr. Pierce and Miss Zoey Enright, of the United States, who was the guest of Mr. Pierce at Silverstone.”

The London
Times
had run an article in the business section speculating on how much of the new company’s stock might be made available by the principals, and how much it might sell for. The head of Delaney’s London office had called him immediately upon seeing the article, and had followed the call with a fax. Delaney had read it over and over, wondering how long it would be until Ben himself told him the news. He had felt a perverse sort of pleasure when Ben called him the previous Friday, upon his return to the States, and had
asked if he could speak with him first thing on Monday morning.

Well, you knew when he came back that it wasn’t going to be permanent, Delaney reminded himself as he stared at the shifting clouds in an open sky through the plate glass window.

I just didn’t expect him to leave so soon.

Delaney sighed heavily and turned to the portrait of his daughter that hung on the wall behind the sofa.
I tried, sweetheart. I tried.

“Ben is here, Delaney.” Pauline told him from the doorway.

“Send him in.”

“Delaney!” Ben entered the room and filled it with his enthusiasm.

“Son. It’s good to see you.” He politely shook Ben’s hand and offered him a seat with a gesture of his hand. “How’s the foot doing?”

“As well as it’s going to do, I guess.” Ben shrugged. “It appears that it’s reached maximum medical improvement. The doctors don’t expect that full range of motion will ever return.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, son. I know how you wanted to return to racing.”

“I’m probably lucky that it’s healed as well as it has. And as for racing, well, I have to accept the fact that those days are behind me now.”

“Well then.” Delaney cleared his throat, wondering how to play this. “Perhaps you’ll be looking for permanent employment now. How would you feel about taking over as president of the HMP? All the reports since you started there have been positive, Ben. Sales have increased, our viewing audience has expanded. The ideas you’ve suggested have all been solid ones—offering credit cards to members to charge directly with us, bringing in more celebrity endorsed products . . . and those interactive segments have been very successful, I am told.”

“Thank you, Delaney. I’ve enjoyed every day that I’ve
spent in your employ. I don’t think I expected to, but I can honestly say I’ve enjoyed working at the HMP. It’s a challenging concept, the market is totally without limit. There’s no end to where you can go with it. And you’ve some really fine people working there . . . from the producers to the warehouses.”

“I had heard you had tried out just about every position in every department. Drove the managers crazy.” Delaney chuckled in spite of the sense of disappointment that was welling up inside him.

“It was time well spent.” Ben smiled. “I learned a little about what everyone did. I even took some orders over the phone. It was good experience for me to see how it all fit together.”

“Like the pieces of a puzzle,” Delaney nodded, “or of an engine . . .”

He slid the newspaper across the desk, and without glancing down, Ben knew what story it told.

“I wanted to tell you myself, Delaney. I came here this morning to tell you,” Ben said softly. “I’m sorry. It didn’t occur to me that this would have made the papers so soon, though with Tony involved, I should have expected it.”

“This Chapman fellow—”

“—is an old friend. For years we talked about doing something like this, but I had never really given much thought to it. I always figured when I retired, we’d sit down and talk about it, Tony and I. After my accident, he assumed I’d not be returning to driving, so he proceeded to move ahead. I have to admit it came as a bit of a surprise when I found out he’d lined up this whole thing.” Ben tried to laugh, but it sounded hollow, even to his ears.

“Which was when . . .”

“When Zoey and I arrived at his house on the Friday before last.” Ben locked his fingers together in his lap and stared at them with more intensity than they warranted.

“Ah, yes. Zoey.” Delaney nodded.

Ben met his grandfather’s eyes and for the first time since Ben had entered the room, Delaney found reason to be hopeful.

“Now, will you be taking my best sales host from me, Ben?” Delaney tried to inject a light tone into the conversation.

“Zoey?” He frowned, the lines deepening in his brow and around his mouth. “No. She isn’t inclined to leave the HMP, Delaney.”

“I take it you have asked her, then?”

“I did. Zoey really likes what she does, Delaney. She’s exceptionally good at it, and she’s happy. She isn’t ready to give it up. And I can’t blame her. I
don’t
blame her.” The lines seemed to deepen, and he asked, as if intending to joke, “You wouldn’t be planning on expanding the HMP to the British Isles, would you?”