Millionaire Boss (Freeman Brothers 1)

“Um, yeah. Family stuff,” I told him. “My brother is going through a tough time, and I’m trying to help him out.”

I didn’t want to go into a bunch of detail and make it uncomfortable, but I figured that was vague enough to be appropriate for the work environment. Quentin looked at me for another silent stretch, like he was waiting for more, then realized I wasn’t going to tell him anything else. He grinned a little wider and patted his hand against the doorframe like he was telling a driver to go.

“Well, we like to think of everybody around here as a big family, so if you need something, just give me a holler.”

He said it like he didn’t sound for all the world like an after-school special and walked away. I watched him until long after I couldn’t hear his footsteps going down the hall anymore. The thought flickered through my mind wondering if this could possibly be the same man I met on my first day, or if he’d somehow gotten replaced by an awkwardly smiley clone.

15

Quentin

With the first race done and won, it left us fully in the thick of the season. Even with the high of doing well, the pressure around the complex was elevated. It might even be higher because of the win. Performing so well meant we had a precedent we had to uphold. We were at the top, which meant the only way Darren had to go was down. Greg’s performance could only improve slightly but getting us up to the first two places would be extremely impressive. We couldn’t get complacent and just expect to keep doing well. The other teams weren’t sitting on their laurels, so we couldn’t, either.

Dad had been more involved since the race than he had been in months, spending all day in the workshops with the mechanics. Darren could do a lot of the work on his own bike, but when it came to the most intricate of changes and repairs, as well as the basic maintenance that kept the machines in top shape, we relied on a team of skilled mechanics. They had been working with us for years, which I always thought gave us an advantage over teams that had frequent turnover in their crews.

We, on the other hand, had the same mechanics we’d been using for more than a decade. They knew all of us well, and we knew them just as well. Understanding each other translated to a better understanding of the work that needed to be done. Because they were familiar with how Darren rode, they could recommend alterations to the bike that would enhance his skills while compensating for weaknesses. For those on the outside of the racing industry, it seemed like a massive amount of work and effort just to try to squeeze a fraction of a second more speed out of the bike. But for those in the race, that fraction of a second could make all the difference.

I expected to find Darren in the workshop working with the mechanics, but instead, it was only Dad.

“Where’s Darren?” I asked. “With Greg?”

Dad shook his head. “No. Greg spent the morning making some tweaks with the guys, and now he’s running some tests rides on the track. Darren is off with Victor.”

I laughed. “Ah. All right, you guys keep up the good work. I’ll talk to you later.”

Darren being with Victor meant he had returned to his single-minded mission to trim off a few pounds. The lighter the rider, the faster the bike, and he had it in his head he could shave off some weight and be an even better competitor.

Next, I made my way into the main office building. Immediately, I smelled cinnamon and headed to the employee kitchen. Just as I expected, I found Mom in there, surrounded by baked goods. She was leaned over at the oven pulling out a fresh batch of cinnamon rolls, which she placed on a cooling rack on the counter beside a huge bowl of cream cheese frosting. Baking up a storm was how Mom always handled stress.

The kitchen was also where I found Merry. She and Glenda were standing over a plate of brownies, and I salivated as Merry broke off a piece of one and placed it between her full lips, licking the fudgy remnants from her fingers when she was finished.

“It’s funny. Minnie was just saying she does all this baking when she’s feeling stressed out or worried about something. That’s exactly what’s going on with my brother. He’s at my house cooking all the time because he’s upset about the divorce and having to leave his job,” Merry said.

“So, you have it coming at you from all directions,” Glenda laughed.

“You’re right about that. After eating everything he’s been making for me, I thought coming to work was going to be my safe space. But now we’ve got Minnie Stewart over here making the most delicious goodies in the world.”