The Comeback (11 page)

He couldn’t engage her in a discussion of the races—he’d tried, but gotten nowhere. She didn’t attend them and he had a suspicion she didn’t even watch them on TV, which for a woman with her NASCAR background was bizarre.

Or maybe she did watch the races, but she just didn’t like Ryan. Again, he struggled to understand. Sure, he’d been known to tick women off by ending it when they got too serious, but he hadn’t asked Amber out yet, and she was already acting as if he’d dumped her.

It wasn’t fair, he thought. Especially when she was so damn pretty that he’d thought about dating her the moment they’d met. She had an amazing figure, slim in the right places, and curvy in the best places. And her dark hair and olive-toned skin made her seem exotic.

She thought he was a mama’s boy, going by that dig she’d just made.

“I’ve looked after myself for years,” he said. “I moved back in with my folks when Matheson Racing hired me. Dad pointed out that I wouldn’t want to be worrying about an apartment while on the road constantly.”

His father had omitted to mention that the right to question Ryan’s every move was part of the bargain. That was the cause of last night’s argument and many others previously.

Maybe that was why he was so drawn to Amber. Everything about her shrieked independence and a determination not to do things just because someone else wanted her to.

“How about I take you out to dinner tonight?” he said.

She straightened up. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll take you to BamBam,” he offered generously. “It’s the
coolest place in Charlotte.” He usually took first dates somewhere less expensive, but he figured nothing less than his best effort would work on Amber.

“No thanks.”

Ryan tried to think of the last time a girl had turned him down for a date, and failed to recall such an incident. Amber clearly had no compulsion to explain her refusal. Strangely, he liked that.
I’m a masochist, wanting only what I can’t have.
Which pretty much summed up his racing at the moment.

“Is it the age difference?” he asked. “Because I can handle an older woman.”

“Don’t even think about handling me,” she warned.

“How old are you, anyway?” he asked.

“Way, way too old for you.”

“Your mom doesn’t look that old, did she have you when she was twelve?”

She pffed, but her lips twitched.

“I saw that,” he said. “You nearly smiled.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was no animosity in it.

“Have dinner with me,” he coaxed her. “The food will be great and you can ignore the company.”

Again that twitch of the lips. She drew in a breath and Ryan thought
yes.
He was shocked how excited he was at the prospect of an evening with Amber.

“It’s
very
nice of you to offer.” She sounded as if she was appeasing a kindergartner. “But I don’t date race car drivers.”

“Why not?” The indignation in his voice definitely had a kindergarten quality. But he’d never heard anything so unreasonable.

“They’re too slick,” she said. “You can’t trust a slick guy.”

“Slick? That’s not true,” Ryan protested. “Look at Zack Matheson. Look at his dad—Brady used to drive, and no one would say he’s slick.”

“I don’t trust the gruff type, either.”

“Which camp have you pegged me for, slick or gruff?” They both knew he had to be at the slick end of her weird scale. It was a direct insult to his trustworthiness. He decided not to call her on it, not while there was still a chance he might get this date.

“Will you go out with me if I promise not to talk about NASCAR? We could pretend I’m a—a jockey.” When her eyes flicked to his full six feet of height, he figured he’d snagged her interest.

She shook her head. “You can’t not talk about NASCAR. You live for the sport.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, what if it wasn’t me? What about a stunningly good-looking driver from another team who can’t speak due to a throat operation, and therefore physically can’t talk about NASCAR? A guy who’s not slick or gruff, and who’s incredibly kind to children and animals.”

She blinked at the convoluted scenario. “Nope.”

“What if a driver saved your life, then he asked you on a date. Would you go out of gratitude?”

She laughed.

Her laugh was everything Ryan had anticipated, and more. Light, musical, clear in the morning air. It turned her eyes the sparkling blue of a spring sky, widened her mouth in a generous curve. He was bewitched.

“Maybe I’d go on one date out of gratitude,” she conceded. “But that’s all.”

Ryan looked around, half hoping some nutcase would come speeding through the parking lot and up the steps so he could drag Amber to safety.

“Goodbye, Ryan.” Before he could protest—and before he remembered to borrow her card-key—she burst the fantasy bubble and jogged down the steps, breaking into a run as she reached the bottom. She ran fast, as if she was trying to get away from something—him.

Okay, maybe their dinner date wouldn’t happen tonight, Ryan thought, as he sat down on the steps to wait for another early bird. But it would happen.

“Y
OU JOB IS TO BOOST
my image,” Zack said, as he thumbed the elevator button at the Charlotte Getaway Hotel. “So how come when I win a race, which is the best thing I can do for my image, you disappear?”

He sounded ticked off, and that’s because he was. Right after Gaby had refused to go to dinner with him, she’d disappeared off somewhere and left him with her junior sidekick.

“Leah is very capable, she was following my instructions. I understand from her you did a great job in your interviews.” Gaby stepped into the elevator.

“
You
are my PR rep,” Zack persisted.

“And I was busy representing you.” She glanced anxiously at her reflection in the polished steel doors. Zack could have told her she looked fantastic in her cream suit and her black silk blouse with large cream polka dots. “While you were doing those interviews, I was briefing
Now Woman
magazine and trying to convince the news desk at one of the major networks to interview you in their weekly roundup next Friday.” Gaby paused. “How was your celebration dinner with your family?”

“It was fine,” he admitted. “No one said anything stupid, mainly thanks to Kelly cracking the whip.”

“Good.” Gaby touched his arm, and for a second he couldn’t move.

“You were right about me spending the evening with them,” he said reluctantly. Reluctant because he still wanted to have that dinner date with her.

They reached the business center where Rob Hudson had arranged a meeting between his staff at Getaway and Matheson Racing, to talk about how they could build on Zack’s win at Watkins Glen and the cover story in
Now Woman.

When the meeting started, eight of them sat around the boardroom table: Zack, Chad and Steve Parr, Matheson Racing’s day-to-day sponsor liaison for the No. 548 car; Gaby and Sandra from Motor Media Group; plus three guys from Getaway.

Zack was thankful that for once they were going into a meeting with a positive tone. The downside was, they wanted to set the PR strategy for the next four weeks leading up to the Chase for the NASCAR Sprint Cup. Zack wanted to set his racing strategy.

Gaby sent him a significant look and a teeth-gritted smile. Oh, yeah, he was supposed to smile. Zack followed orders, and her smile turned genuine. There was a lot a guy might do for a smile like that, he mused, as the meeting delved into media impressions and weightings. Zack listened with half an ear, and gathered that even without the win and the magazine profile his impressions had been more favorable over the past couple of weeks. But he still had some way to go before his name and face had the pulling power of, say, Trent.

He reined in his impatience as a marketing assistant from Getaway ran through a PowerPoint presentation. He could have told these people all of that without recourse to fancy charts, statistics and opinion surveys.

He preferred to watch Gaby—a far more pleasant occupation. She was angled toward Sandra as she watched the presentation. She looked just like the others—smart, capable, professional. Which was just as well, because these guys didn’t pull their punches. The Getaway people had no qualms about complaining loud and long over any failure to meet expectations.

Twelve million dollars gave them that right, Zack supposed.

The discussion moved on to the bachelor contest.

“
Now Woman
plans to run another story about Zack next week,” Gaby said. Approving noises came from around the table.

“The first article was a great success. In the last week, our call center has taken a number of calls from people wanting to reserve a room Zack has slept in,” Rob Hudson said. “I have to admit, I know the rest of my team liked the idea immediately, but I wasn’t so sure about putting our focus on the contest when you had first mentioned it.”

Huh, she hadn’t told Zack that.

“Your own research shows women are the major vacation decision-makers,” she said modestly.

“If Zack wins the bachelor contest—” Hudson addressed the assembled group “—we might have a hope of a decent return on the money Uncle Brian poured into this sponsorship.” Uncle Brian was Brianna’s late father. Just about the last thing he’d done before cancer struck him down was get board approval for a NASCAR Sprint Cup Series sponsorship. Rob turned to Gaby. “How do we make sure Zack wins?”

Sandra straightened in her seat and shot Gaby a loaded look.

“Winning the contest isn’t something I can guarantee,” Gaby began.

When Rob made an impatient movement, Zack saw something flash in Gaby’s eyes. Something he recognized. Panic. The sense that although she was doing well, she was only hanging on by her fingernails, and that at any second now she would let go, hit the wall and screw up any one of a thousand ways that would cost her control of her future.

“Motor Media Group will do everything possible to advance Zack’s cause,” Sandra said. Which meant Gaby would do everything possible.

“I don’t mind telling you, this NASCAR sponsorship has been a big disappointment to date,” Rob said.

Gaby looked…besieged. Her demeanor reminded Zack of their first meeting, when she’d clearly been out of her depth, yet somehow, she’d pulled out her show-stopping accusation that he was a has-been, and he’d ended up agreeing to work with her.

Do it again,
he advised her silently.
Find that sucker punch.

But instead, he could see her going under, floundering as Rob Hudson suggested Getaway should pay on results, not effort. Sandra wasn’t jumping in to help as she normally would—Zack guessed she saw this as some kind of test for Gaby. He frowned.

Chad noticed. “Zack, did you have something to add?”

Zack ditched the frown, in case anyone thought he was sponsor-hostile. While he had their attention he might as well say something to support Gaby. Right now she had no one else in her corner.

“Gaby has invested considerable time in preparing me for the bachelor contest,” he said. “To be honest, she didn’t get a lot of cooperation. But I’ve been pleasantly surprised at the outcome, and from now on I plan to put more effort in at my end.”

Gaby’s jaw dropped.

Hudson stared, as if Zack was speaking a foreign language.

Surely he hadn’t been
that
uncooperative in previous meetings? Zack thought about how the relationship with Getaway had deteriorated since he’d won at Daytona, right before they’d signed the sponsorship deal, and realized he probably had.

“Excellent news,” Sandra said, almost concealing her surprise.

Okay, babe, over to you,
he telegraphed to Gaby.

Eyes shining, she grabbed the opportunity with both hands. “We’ve done extremely well with, as Zack said, less than his full endorsement of our program. Although we can’t guarantee a win in the contest, we can guarantee an improved focus
on media opportunities, and in my experience that always gets results.”

Chad’s smile was faintly ironic, but there was genuine warmth in his eyes as he looked at Zack—Zack knew he had Gaby to thank for that. Too late, Zack realized he’d probably just committed himself to a bunch of PR activities that weren’t about racing. Yet the idea didn’t worry him as much as he’d expected—obviously he was still riding a wave of confidence after his win, but could it last?

We’ll make it last.

With a jolt, he realized the
we
included him and Gaby. Well, why the heck not? He and Gaby made quite a team.

P
ATSY
G
ROSSO, OWNER, WITH
her husband Dean, of Cargill-Grosso Racing, was one of NASCAR’s best-known and most liked figures. So when the Grossos invited people to Patsy’s fiftieth birthday party, held at a motorsports museum in Charlotte, around three hundred guests flocked to attend.

Gaby changed into her short, pale gray silk dress at the office, and traveled to the party with two of her colleagues. She looked her best. She’d put in an hour with her hair straightener in the office bathroom, and the beading around the scooped neckline made her figure-hugging dress even more elegant.

When they arrived at the museum, Gaby scanned the room, looking for Zack. She owed him her thanks for rescuing her from that awkward situation during Tuesday’s meeting. She’d have sworn he’d been too focused on himself to observe her increasing desperation. But he’d shifted Getaway’s, and more importantly Sandra’s, perception in Gaby’s favor.

She helped herself to a smoked salmon hors d’oeuvre from a tray proffered by a waiter whose white shirt bore the Gourmet by Grace logo.

Grace Winters, a celebrated chef from a family better known for producing top NASCAR crew chiefs, must have
catered tonight’s party, which meant the food would be wonderful. It was obvious no expense had been spared in creating the perfect occasion, as evidenced by the well-known jazz quartet playing at the far end of the room, and the lavish decorations. Swathes of gold silk formed a canopy that disguised the venue’s exposed air-conditioning ducts, while black-and-white checkered ribbon streamed everywhere.

Given the number of people filling the room, it was odd that Gaby immediately spotted Zack amongst the crowd.

She caught her breath. In his dark shirt and dark pants, he was the best-looking man there. He glanced her way. Holding her gaze, Zack walked toward her.

He kissed her cheek—too fleeting. “You look great,” he said.

Was it her imagination, or did he sound slightly husky?

The glint in his eye turned proprietary. “You’d better stick with me tonight,” he said. “There’s every chance I’ll blow my new nice-guy image if you’re not around.”

She sighed. “A PR rep’s work is never done.”

He grinned, and that crooked grin tugged at her heart.

“Hey, you two.” Chad approached, his arm around Brianna’s waist. She looked so happy, content—as if she was in the best place in the world.

Gaby knew a sudden certainty that wrapped in Zack’s arms would be an even better place.

Brianna was talking about tonight’s festivities. She’d come to know Patsy well over the past few months, and had been involved in planning the party.

Gaby grabbed the reprieve from her thoughts of Zack, and threw herself into the safe conversation. “Everything seems to be going very smoothly,” she said.

Brianna grimaced. “Grace is worried that she’s shorthanded.”

“She called Tony this afternoon and insisted he haul his butt here to help,” Chad said.

“Tony?” Gaby asked, not caring in the least.

“Our team accountant, Tony Winters, is Grace’s brother-
in-law,” Zack explained. “He owns part of the catering business with her, but he’s usually hands-off.”

“Interesting,” Gaby said. And it was—when Zack’s deep voice was doing the talking. The realization shook her.

“There he is now. He had to break a hot date to get here.” Chad raised his voice to a good-looking, dark-haired man. “Hey, Tony, the uniform suits you.” Chad grinned as his wife swatted his arm. Tony looked less than thrilled at the compliment—he gave Chad a tight smile and moved on.

By the time Gaby had displayed immense and entirely phony interest in Tony Winters’s love life, Grace Winters’s catering business and the party planning, she’d just about reined in her unhealthy awareness of Zack. When Sandra and Taney joined their circle, she dismissed Zack entirely from her thoughts. Sandra was too astute—she’d pick up on any vibe between Gaby and her client faster than a NASCAR Sprint Cup car could pass a checkered flag.

When Sandra touched her arm and indicated Gaby should step back from the group, her heart sank.

“I know this is a social occasion, not work,” Sandra said. “But I’d like a word.”

“Sure.” Gaby rehearsed an argument to convince her boss she wasn’t involved with Zack, her priorities were exactly where they should be.

Sandra drew her out of earshot. “I’m impressed by your work with Zack,” she said. “You’ve surprised me, Gaby, in a good way. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“To be honest, I wasn’t sure, either,” Gaby surprised herself by saying. “I hoped I did, but working with Zack…”

“It’s pushed you to discover the extent of your abilities,” Sandra said. “And it’s clear to everyone now that those are considerable.”

“Thank you,” Gaby murmured, embarrassed by such lavish praise. It wasn’t so much that she’d discovered new abilities, she thought, as it was that working with Zack had built her
confidence, strengthened her, so her strengths and abilities could shine.

“Hey, I didn’t hesitate to tell you when your work wasn’t up to scratch,” Sandra teased. “It’s only fair that I tell you when the situation has changed.”

Gaby caught her breath. “The situation?”

Sandra nodded, smiling. “I’m putting you back on the shortlist to stand in for me while I’m on maternity leave.”

Gaby’s heart raced. “That’s wonderful.”

“You earned it,” Sandra said simply.

As she accepted Sandra’s kiss on the cheek, Gaby saw Zack watching her. She couldn’t hold in her delight as she smiled at him. He smiled back, and it seemed to her that the warmth beaming from him was hers alone.

Z
ACK COULDN
’
T BELIEVE HOW
drawn he was to Gaby tonight. She still had that hint of vulnerability he’d seen in their meeting yesterday. Combine that with her outward confidence and her phenomenal beauty in that silky dress…From the moment she walked in, he’d wanted to kiss her again.

She and Sandra rejoined the group, which had swelled to include Amber, Trey Sanford and a couple other people. The conversation turned to speculation about who would make the Chase for the NASCAR Sprint Cup.

“Are you going to make it, Zack?” Amber asked.

It wasn’t a topic Zack wanted to tempt fate by discussing. He shrugged and managed a tight smile at Amber. He wasn’t sure what he thought of his new stepsister yet. Brady was bending over backward to make her feel welcome, and Zack had to admit that kind of stuck in his craw.

He told himself that wasn’t Amber’s fault. Then he put her out of his mind as Gaby made her way around to him. She leaned into him, and Zack caught the scent of roses and jasmine. “Sandra just put me back on the shortlist for the promotion,” she said.