Slide Job (Cameron Motorsports) (10 page)

She stepped back and smiled a sultry smile at him. “Honey, you’re the one who looks like he’s drowning.”

“Morgan, it’s good to see you again.” Lacey Cameron, looking regal as always, gave him a nod. “Tyler, you too.” She took Morgan by the arm and moved her toward the waiting sponsors, but not before Morgan turned her head slightly and winked at him.

He thought about the phone conversation he’d had earlier in the day with his boss, Sam Hanover, President of Hanover Studios. It grated on him to have to bow to someone else’s wishes. Sam had cornered him about Morgan still being on the show and not being eliminated. Some guys had real issues with women.

Tyler watched her walk away, and noticed the reactions of most of the men in the room. Their eyes followed her every move. Graceful strides carried her smoothly toward a cluster of people who stood on the other side. Her high heels and the movement of her supple calves tickled something dark inside him and made it jerk its chain with hunger.

Gracious and kind, she shook hands and spoke softly to everyone Lacey introduced her to, eliciting a smile and warm welcome from everyone. Sure to compliment the women on their dresses, the men on some accomplishment or other. He’d never seen any of the high-class women he’d dated work a room with more charm and panache.

He’d laughed when Blake told him about the stunt Morgan had pulled this morning. He wished he’d been there to see it. What a woman, strong enough to give as good as she got.

*

Morgan sipped her glass of champagne, enjoying the bubbles as she looked out over the oval, lit up for the evening’s events leading up to the FASPRO Truck race tomorrow. The grandstands were half full and she could hear the muffled cheers of the fans watching a motorcycle stunt show on the front straightaway.

She couldn’t believe Jim had timed in faster than she had, by one-hundredth of a second.
Crap.
Instead of first place, it put her solidly in second. Kyle Spencer held on to third over Eric by one point. Bobby Harms from Austin, sat in fifth. After crashing the truck this morning, Ryan McCarthy had been invited back home to Indianapolis.

“Morgan, you did a fine job in the truck this morning.” Butch Cameron towered over her from well over six feet. He grinned at her, his gravelly voice full of humor. “Some stunt you pulled on Jim.” He laughed a big booming belly laugh. “It’s a wonder it didn’t throw him off his ride.”

“Thanks. I think.” She regarded him carefully, willing him to like her, yet at the same time not wanting to make it obvious she was trying too hard.

She noticed Tyler across the room, looking like prime beefcake in his dark silk suit. His tawny hair simply did her in. Every time she was close to him, she wanted to run her fingers through it. She could tell the other women thought so too. The way they kept coming over to him to introduce themselves.

He appeared to be deep in conversation with a silver-haired man she had met earlier. President of marketing for some food company, the name of which escaped her at the moment. Tyler chose that moment to gaze across the room. His azure eyes met hers and he raised his glass in salute. Her heart stuttered in its beats.

“Why would a lovely young woman like yourself want to spend all your time turning left and going in circles? Isn’t there a white picket fence in your future?” Butch asked curiously, dragging her out of her musings and back to the present.

With only slight hesitation she answered, “Because I have to, sir. I just have to.” She raised a clenched fist and did her best to let the passion she felt for racing shine through her eyes.

He stared at her for the briefest of moments, seeming to reach some sort of decision in his own mind. He nodded in agreement. “I see.” He waved at two middle-aged suits just entering the room. “Excuse me, won’t you, Morgan? It’s been a pleasure. You go enjoy your dinner. We’ll talk a bit more later on.” He strode briskly away.

“Well, that was certainly cryptic,” she muttered testily to herself. How would she ever make any inroads if she couldn’t get Butch to slow down long enough for conversation? For a moment she wondered if he’d heard something from Jim. Casting off the doubt, she figured she’d never know anyway.

Morgan stood tapping her toe and looked around the room. She spied her competitors bunched up in the corner with their pilsners near the crudités and hors d’oeuvres table, joking with each other and a few of the camera crew. Way to make an impression, guys.

Morgan’s eyes came to rest on the beautifully-coiffed Lacey Cameron, her blonde hair and model good looks only enhanced by the navy blue beaded sheath she wore.

She’d seemed friendly enough earlier as she’d introduced Morgan to their official sponsors, associate sponsors, and independent sponsors. Some of them Morgan knew by sight from television. Others left her with no clue. There were so many, she knew she’d never remember all their names or every product they represented. She’d damn sure make a supreme effort to learn them after they left the track. It couldn’t hurt.

Lacey stood with a long-limbed brunette and a tall red-head, all three laughing merrily, sipping from crystal flutes.

Well, Blade, it’s now or never.

She walked over, feigning confidence she didn’t really feel, hoping they wouldn’t shun her as women had so many times before over the years.

It usually boiled down to either the size of her chest or the racing. She could never quite figure out which. Most days, genetics being what they were, she didn’t have time to care.

She put on her best fan-friendly smile, “Ladies.” She looked each one in the eyes and nodded politely. “Mind if I join you?”

Chapter 11

“Morgan, you’re always welcome.” Lacey Cameron smiled warmly and gestured to the lovely redhead standing next to her. “This tardy arrival is my daughter, Julia. She’s usually away in New York, busy with her own marketing firm.” With a smile at her daughter, she added, “She’s managed to make time for her parents this week.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Morgan offered a firm handshake, while the name Julia Cameron tickled her memory.

Ah, she remembered watching one of those biography channels that did a story on the life of Butch Cameron. The one flaw in his perfect and successful life? No children. Julia was adopted, slated to be the heir of Cameron Motorsports. Wow, how’s that for winning the lottery?

“And you as well. This is my friend and business associate, Amy Shilling.”

Julia motioned to an anorexic brunette lounging, hipshot, in a flaming red, strapless number alongside her. From her considerable height, Amy looked down at Morgan, nodded regally and gave her a bored smile, not bothering to speak.

Jeez, the woman must be six-feet-four with heels
.
Morgan felt like an old VW Beetle parked next to a Ferrari Enzo. She did her best to squash the little spirals of irritation caused by Julia’s friend’s lack of manners.

Amy looked beyond her, hastily stood up straight and pulled her shoulders back, her eyes lighting with sudden interest.

A black-clad waiter approached and captured the group’s attention as he spoke to Lacey. “Madam, if you’d like to be seated, dinner will be served.”

“Thank you, Winston.” Lacey smiled charmingly and winked at the waiter, who proceeded to blush to the roots of his salt and pepper hair. He smiled shyly at her and strode briskly away.

“Men. Such entertaining creatures, aren’t they?” Lacey laughed, the jovial sound inspiring everyone else to do the same.

“Mama, you shouldn’t tease him so,” Julia lightly chastised, with a smile in her voice.

“Oh, pish, posh. Lighten up, my dear. You’ve spent too much time in the city. There’s nothing wrong with harmless flirtation.”

Tyler strolled up to their group, crystal tumbler of dark whiskey in hand. “Lacey, you’re absolutely correct. There’s nothing wrong with a little harmless flirting. Where I’m from, it’s quite an art.”

His voice, soft and southern, flowed over Morgan like warm honey. It dripped slowly across every nerve, leaving a slithering trail of heat in its wake.

Amy stepped forward and rudely placed herself between Tyler and Morgan. The woman all but wrapped herself around him. Ah, so he’s what caught her attention
.
Morgan stepped back and turned toward the long, gleaming dinner table, refusing to give in to her rising bitch factor.

Just because she’d kissed a guy, didn’t mean she owned him. Didn’t mean she had a right to punch some snooty bimbo in the nose. Okay, being short meant she’d have to punch her in the stomach, but still, it grated on her.

Whoa. Back the truck up. She wasn’t meant for the couples’ scene. Josh had proven that. He’d told her so, on the last night of his life. He’d made a widow out of her, made her believe it in a way she’d never forget. Get over it, Blade.

A quick roll in the hay, maybe. But not long term commitment. What man would hang with a woman who traveled all over the country to more than seventy race dates a year? No man in his right mind.

She laughed quietly at herself. Traveling wouldn’t be a hindrance in another two months. She’d be bankrupt, and her family along with her. There wouldn’t be any racing unless she could win this contest or snag herself another ride.

“You’re from California, aren’t you?” Amy purred at Tyler. Her seductive tones wrenched Morgan from her troubled thoughts. “L.A., right?”

“I live there now. I’m moving back to the South so my daughter can attend school. Originally, I’m at home in Franklin, Tennessee.”

Lacey’s dulcet tones broke into the conversation, “Shall we make our way to the table everyone? If you’ll excuse me, I need to gather up Butch or he’ll never make dinner.”

*

Once he’d managed to pry Amy off his arm, Tyler tried to relax but found it impossible. Amy sat next to him, with Jim O’Bannon on her other side. Finally realizing he wasn’t interested, she turned her charms on Jim, thank God. If she couldn’t have a producer, wouldn’t a racecar driver fill the bill? He’d dated enough shallow women to last a lifetime. They just weren’t worth the effort.

Course after course of elegant food served by uniformed wait staff failed to hold Tyler’s attention or satisfy his appetite. What he hungered for sat across the table from him, laughing and joking with Julia Cameron.

Morgan glowed. Her eyes sparkled when she laughed at Julia’s jokes. Her bold red lips were the perfect frame for sparkling white teeth. The camera loved her.

Her skin, pale and luminous, looked soft and inviting. Tyler wanted to touch, ached to touch, the place just below her ear. Would it feel like silk? Would it smell like roses?

“Some women don’t know what it means to be a woman. They think acting like a man makes them tough. It just makes them stupid.” The sound of Jim O’Bannon’s voice scratched Tyler’s ears like nails on a chalkboard.

“So true,” Amy agreed, running her hand along the back of Jim’s chair, leaning in close to him and looking across the table at Morgan.

Tyler watched Morgan’s shoulders stiffen and her eyes light with brown fire as she glared at Jim. “What’s your problem, O’Bannon?”

“You think you’re so funny, putting that thing in my helmet this morning. You think you’re just great, don’t you?” Jim’s words spit pure venom back at Morgan.

“Oh, get over yourself.
You’re the one who left it for me when I first started running this series. I’m just returning your gift. Can’t you take a joke, big man?” Morgan sniped at him, setting her glass on the table before leaning back in her chair.

Tyler watched the barb hit home. Jim wasn’t but an inch or so taller than she was. Jim flushed bright red and stood up so fast his chair fell over behind him. Fists clenched, he looked at Morgan.

All conversation ceased. The cameras rolled, capturing everyone’s expression from shock to delight.

This is perfect!
It would make great television, Tyler knew. Why did it make him feel so slimy to know he was partly the cause of their anger?

He wondered how they’d feel if they knew he’d made the seating arrangements at the table. Deliberately putting Jim across from Morgan so he’d be reminded she’d made a fool of him.

Jim’s bio and his psychological evaluations said he perceived women as second-class citizens. It wasn’t something Tyler liked personally. He’d just looked for possible conflict when choosing contestants. If they were good at what they did and had some quirks, it worked.

So many times he’d done it. Manipulated people, found their weaknesses and exploited them. He was known around the globe for it. His conscience had never bothered him. Until now.

Tyler ignored the niggling little voice, watching Morgan’s reaction to Jim’s combative stance. Her voice soft, she looked around the table making sure she had everyone’s attention.

She leaned forward, picked up her wine glass and took a sip, smiling politely. “You’ll have to forgive Jim. The wine just goes to his head.” Everyone tittered with nervous laughter.

Jim pointed his finger at Morgan. “I won’t forget this, Blade. Your ass is done.”

Butch Cameron’s imposing figure rose from his end of the table.

“O’Bannon, that’s enough.” His commanding voice left no room for argument. Butch looked at Morgan and stared down the other contestants also, erasing their smiles.

“You know if you get a contract with this team, or any other FASPRO team, there
will
be a behavior clause. If you don’t understand what that means, we can discuss it after dinner.”

Tyler did his best to hold his own temper. Watching Jim rise from the table with clenched fists directed at Morgan made him want to break out his own can of whoop-ass. For one shining moment, he thought about how good it would feel to plow his fist into that sneering face.

Not bothering to pick up his chair, Jim stormed out of the room.

Tyler had gotten the reaction he’d hoped for. Something spicy that would help the ratings. He marveled at Morgan’s reaction to such an asshole. She came off looking smooth and cool, that’s for sure. He wondered just what it would take to get under her skin.

His problem remained. He didn’t feel good about his manipulations anymore. What if someone manipulated Annie like that? Somehow he didn’t think his boss would appreciate his change of heart.

Lacey signaled the wait staff and dessert was served. They quickly picked up the fallen chair, cleared away Jim’s place setting, and went on to serve coffee as if he’d never been there.

*

Her feet were killing her. Morgan didn’t make a habit of spending much time in stilettos, preferring her soft leather driving shoes. Impatient to get them off, she headed for the hauler, hurrying around the corner of the garage. Out of sight, she leaned against the building and slipped off her shoes.
Ah, relief!
Oh, footsteps. Hopefully it wasn’t spoilsport O’Bannon.

Black asphalt, rough on her bare feet, still held the heat of the day. It felt lovely on her aching feet. The humid night air made her skin tingle with warmth after being caged up in the air-conditioned dining room.

Tyler stepped around the corner as she picked up her shoes and started walking. “Mind if I walk with you?” His soft voice in the darkness caressed her tired spirit.

Her heart beat just a little faster being close to him. The kiss they’d shared foremost in her mind, she answered slowly.

“Ah, okay, sure.”

They walked toward her hauler while stars twinkled overhead in the clear Carolina night. The smell of honeysuckle lingered in the air, carried along by a warm breeze.

“You sure were coolheaded tonight, dealing with Jim. How do you manage not to lose your temper?”

Morgan thought about her dad’s illness, Lily’s death and how much she missed the rest of her family. When things were in perspective, it wasn’t that hard really. Jim simply didn’t matter to her. He wasn’t worth wasting her energy on.

“It’s not a big deal. He’s just not worth getting my panties in a knot.” Oh, no. She’d said
panties.
What happened to her brain around this guy? Nothing like making it totally clear she’d been thinking about sex.

He laughed. She liked the sound of it. Deep and male, it rolled out, bringing a smile to her lips.

“I didn’t see Annie at the testing this morning.” She didn’t want to mention she’d noticed he hadn’t been around either. “It was probably a good thing, given the nature of my joke.”

“Yeah, probably so. She had a bad night and wasn’t feeling well so I stayed in with her.”

Man, oh, man.
This guy just can’t be for real.
“Who’s with her now?”

“Stephanie flew back in mid-afternoon and took her to my Mom’s house for a few days.”

“I hope somebody gets airline miles. Didn’t Stephanie just leave yesterday? Wasn’t your other sister having a baby or something?”

“Yeah, Jessica. An eight-pound girl, Emma Joyce York. Born at one this morning. Her older brother Jacob is very proud.”

“Congratulations. That’s so sweet. So, you’re an uncle, again.”

“That’s me, Uncle Tyler. Five times now. Great kids, every one of them.”

Lucky kids, Morgan thought. He cared so much. She could hear it in his voice. They mattered to him.

“Your sister has five kids?” she queried.

“No. Jessica has two, now. Patty has three. Chris, Sarah and Kate.”

“Oh, so you’ve got three sisters? Are you the oldest?” Morgan amused herself by realizing she was truly interested in this man. She hadn’t been curious enough to ask about a guy’s family in a long time. Well, since Josh, if she was honest with herself.

“No, Patty’s the oldest, and then Jessica, I’m third and Stephanie is the youngest.”

“Three sisters.” Morgan laughed. “I bet bathroom space was premium at your house.”

“Fortunately, we had more than one.”

Okay, enough touchy-feely for one night. Morgan yawned as they reached the back of the hauler, still parked with the row of others. She stretched and rolled her shoulders a bit, trying to relieve a spot of tension left over from the evening and the close proximity of one hot, hunk of man. Even if he had no real place in her life.

“Please tell Annie I missed her. And I haven’t forgotten what I promised her. She’ll be coming back, won’t she?”

“I’ll tell her. She’ll be joining us again, not in Georgia, but when we reach Tennessee she’ll be there. What did you promise her?” He looked thoughtful for a moment, running his hand through his hair. “Now I remember. Something about a shoe?”

“She’ll remember. She’s a bright little girl.”

Morgan couldn’t help herself. She stepped in close and wrapped her arms around his waist. She pulled him near and breathed in the hint of cinnamon. Laying her head on his chest, she squeezed him gently.