High Octane (Texas Hotzone 2)

“Just pure racing bliss for the fans, I hope,” Sabrina clarified.

“Why don’t you explain to Sabrina what it is you want her to do, Calista,” Ryan suggested, ever the one to get right to the point. A quality Sabrina decided could grow on her quite rapidly.

“Right,” Calista said. “The city council is organizing a political-ideas discussion, all parties, commentators, journalists will be invited. And I’d be honored if you would consider speaking.”

A part of Sabrina burned to say yes to the invitation—this was familiar territory. Who didn’t want to feel as if they were valued? Appreciated? She wanted to do good things, to stand up for people, but she didn’t know how to do that, and really make a difference. No, she’d hit an emotional wall over the constant conflict her involvement created. She’d made her decision, and she knew she needed a change, at least, until she figured out how, and if, she could contribute in a positive way.

Resolve formed. “As much as I am flattered by your invitation, there is no doubt such an event would pluck me from the obscurity I’ve come here to find. I can’t let that happen.”

“You know I want to pressure you,” Calista said.

“But you won’t,” Ryan said firmly, casting Calista a meaningful look. “And that’s wonderful of you.” His cell rang before he finished the last word.

“Realtor,” he told Sabrina after a quick inspection of the phone. “I’ll take this outside.” He dismissed himself. Sabrina watched him leave, warmed by his brawny protectiveness. She had friends who’d defended her work at the Prime, her editor Ava being one of them. But Ryan’s protectiveness wasn’t about her work, it was about her.

“From politics to extreme sports, I see,” Calista commented. Sabrina refocused on the other woman as Calista sipped her coffee and winked. “I guess I see why you want out of politics.”

Had she been drinking her coffee, Sabrina would surely have choked. Playing coy, she pretended they were talking about Calista’s brother, Marco. “I wasn’t aware race-car driving was considered extreme sports.”

“No,” Calista agreed. “But jumping out of an airplane with that man sure was. I don’t know how I got talked into that. Have you tried it?”

“No,” Sabrina said. “I came close but thankfully, you and Marco showed up that day.”

“Your luck was my loss,” Calista said. “I wish I had a little luck so I could talk you into speaking at my event.” She waved off the comment, silently letting Sabrina know she wasn’t pressuring her. “Back to the extreme sport otherwise known as Ryan Walker. I’m pretty sure you can come up with some exhilarating activities with that man that do not include skydiving. Don’t let him talk you into it.” A slow smile slid onto her lips. “He’s hot, girl, and he looks at you like he wants to gobble you right up.”

“No,” Sabrina said dismissively, and then because she couldn’t help herself, leaned forward and asked softly, “He does?”

“Oh, yeah,” Calista assured her. “What a way to leave the political white collars behind in style. And honey, with a man like that all to yourself, I don’t blame you for wanting to protect your privacy.”

Sabrina bit her lip. “This isn’t about Ryan.”

Calista offered a coy look of her own. “Maybe not,” she said. “But I wouldn’t blame you if it was.” She reached into her purse and slid a card to the table. “Listen, the paper is only a few blocks from my office. We should have lunch. A real lunch, no politics. Just friends.”

The two of them would never manage “no politics,” which was why Sabrina accepted the card and said nothing but, “Thank you. That would be nice.”

“Translation,” Calista said knowingly, “no, thanks.”

“It’s not you,” Sabrina said. In fact, she felt she quite clicked with Calista. And that was the problem. “I really need a clean break from politics, and you’re clearly immersed in that world.”

“I’m not going to talk you into speaking, am I?”

“No,” Sabrina agreed. “You’re not.”

Calista pursed her lips. “I respect that, but I’m still hoping you’ll change your mind.”

It wasn’t long until Ryan returned and did what appeared to come naturally—got right to the point. “So, Calista. How about calling Marco and telling him to give Sabrina her interview?”

“Of course,” Calista agreed. “I never meant to have this be some sort of quid pro quo. If Marco made it seem otherwise, I’ll happily kick his backside.”

Ah, sibling love, Sabrina thought, with wistful amusement. She’d never experienced it, but often thought a friend for life who she could always count on would be a joy.

“Then you won’t mind calling Marco now, I assume,” Ryan commented. It wasn’t a question.

Calista shook her head and glanced at Sabrina. “Did I mention I never jumped out of that plane? He pushed me.”

“I encouraged you,” Ryan corrected, and gave Sabrina a sideways mischievous look that said the word push might be the most accurate.