What did they say to her when she got back? Were they even there, or did they leave, letting her figure out for herself the interview was over and she could go? I wished, not for the first time, I had her phone number so I could reach out to her and find out what was going on. I could have asked Quentin for her contact information. He’d obviously been in touch with her to arrange for the interview, so he would have her email address if not her phone number. But I couldn’t ask him for that. I needed the time to think through everything and figure out exactly how I felt and what I was going to do.
I knew the intense attraction was real. It was a magnetism I’d never felt, an attachment that consumed me when I was in the same room with her. I wanted her something fierce. We never had the chance to try anything real, to see if there was any sort of way for us to be more than just a night of incredible sex. Now that she was back, I knew I wanted to explore that potential, but didn’t know if it was the right time or even how to start. I needed time.
Fortunately, I had it. My dad and Quentin steered clear of me for the next couple of days. I worked on my bike and took laps around the practice track, going into my office to eat rather than going to the field in the middle of the complex or the break room like I usually did. I knew eventually they would approach me, but it ended up being Quentin’s wife, Merry, who broke the silence. She showed up in my office late one afternoon while I was going over some orders I’d made for parts and peered in at me.
“Got a minute?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said.
She came into the room and dropped down into the chair across the desk from me. One hand came to rest on her swollen belly, and she rubbed it affectionately.
“He’s active today,” she told me.
“He just wants to get out of there so he can be a part of race season,” I said.
Merry looked down at her belly and pointed at it firmly.
“Don’t you dare,” she said. “You still have some cooking to do.”
I laughed and she grinned at me. The entire family was excited about Quentin’s first child coming. He and Merry had had a tumultuous relationship in the beginning to say the least, but anybody who looked at them knew they were nothing short of perfect for each other. Now that they were married and preparing for the birth of their son, he was happier and more himself than he ever had been.
“Everything okay?” I asked. “Did you come by for some pictures?”
The social media manager for the company, Merry handled all the platforms along with marketing and planning publicity events. She’d done an incredible job building our fan base and increasing our popularity. It meant a lot of pictures, which wasn’t my favorite thing, but I’d do it for the company. But she shook her head.
“No,” she told me. “I came because you and your brother are driving me up a wall. Neither of you want to rock the boat with the other one, which I don’t get at all. So, I’m going to do it for you. They hired Kelly.” She threw up her hands like I’d just walked into a surprise party. “There we go. It’s over now. Figure out how you feel about it and then come out to the field. We’re having dinner.”
It seemed like she was planning on a dramatic exit, envisioning herself popping up out of the chair and whisking out of the room. But her belly got the best of her, and she struggled for a second to find her center of balance.
“You okay?” I asked.
She gestured for me to wait for a second and finally launched herself up.
“I’ve got it,” she said and let out a breath. “Your mother ordered sandwiches.”
With that, she whipped around and left. I chuckled, shaking my head as she walked away. This was good news. It was what I wanted—for Kelly to get the job. Since I finally got confirmation it hadn’t, I could free myself from my self-imposed exile.
Finishing up my work, I headed out of the office and went to find my family. Just as Merry said, they were gathered together in the green field that took up a large portion of the center of the complex. Several blankets were spread across the grass, and my brothers and parents lounged on them, talking and laughing. They looked up at me as I approached, but none of them said anything. I plopped myself down on the blanket next to my mother, and she smiled at me, running her hand over my hair.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
I nodded. “Starving.”
She reached into a white box on the edge of the blanket in front of her. It was from the little restaurant not far from the complex. Their box lunches were a favorite of everyone’s, and since their food was one of Merry’s strongest pregnancy cravings, these sandwiches and sides were a popular feature around the complex. I was fine with that. Mom handed me a sandwich and gestured to the cooler a few feet away. I crawled over to it and grabbed out a can of soda. I ate the sandwich in a few bites and guzzled down the soda. After a second sandwich,
