Millionaire Boss (Freeman Brothers 1)

“How is that possible?” Brandon asked. “It’s not like it’s a tiny, unknown company. How did it get this far?”

“Quentin,” I answered simply. “Up until now he’s handled things like getting local sponsors and spreading the news about races and things by word of mouth. I think that’s a big reason why he was so resistant to the idea of adding a big social media push to the company. He likes feeling like his fandom was built organically and that he’s still a hometown boy. So, that’s what I’m trying to do with the campaign. Be impressive and humble at the same time.”

“Good luck with that one,” Brandon said. “Sounds like you’re taking on more for this company than you ever have.”

“Most definitely. But I knew that going in. That’s part of why I was so excited to get a consistent, secure position rather than all that gig work. Working here really lets me get into the meat of it and do more. It’s exciting. I just hope I’m doing well and don’t end up completely flopping,” I admitted.

“You’re not going to flop. You don’t have it in you to flop,” he said.

“You’re supposed to say that. You’re my big brother,” I smiled. “We’ll see tomorrow at this tailgating thing. There’s been good interest, and I’m looking forward to seeing how it plays out. If it does well and we can get more attention, we might be able to land bigger sponsors.”

“I’m sure people will love it. And Quentin is going to be even happier with you than he already is,” he said.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, realizing only after the words came out of my mouth how snappy and defensive they sounded.

My brother stared at me as if I had three heads.

“Um. That he’s happy with your performance at your job?” he asked. His eyes searched my face. “Is there something else I could have meant by that?”

The images I’d been trying to chase out of my mind came rushing back, and I did my best not to think about them.

“Nope,” I said. “Of course not. You’re planning on coming to the race, aren’t you?”

He ate his sandwich, his expression showing how thrown off he was by the breakneck change in direction I took the conversation.

“I am,” he said.

“Great. We’ll drive in together and you can go to the tailgating event with me. Then we’ll sit in the company box with Minnie,” I said.

We finished up our lunch talking about the upcoming race, then went back to our offices where I slumped against the desk, embarrassed by my close call of almost revealing everything to my brother.

23

Quentin

Race days were simultaneously my favorite and least favorite days of the season. They were always, in a word, a mess. Everywhere all over the complex, people were running around like crazy, tempers flaring as they scrambled to get things done. No matter how much we prepared and how much time we put into getting everything ready, the morning of a race day always came with what seemed like an insurmountable list of tasks to complete and preparations to make in time for the event. And now with the added pressures of our first tailgating party, it seemed like there simply weren’t enough hours in the day for us to be completely ready.

When Merry had made the suggestion about the tailgating event, it sounded like a fantastic idea. Fans already liked to gather in the parking lots before the race, playing music, cooking food, and getting a few drinks in before loading into the stands. For some, the party just kept rolling. They didn’t even bother to go into the stands and instead parked on the hills that surrounded the track so they could look down over the action and keep their raucous entertainment going throughout. Hosting our own event would bring attention to our team, make the fans feel special, and get the energy going so they would be even more excited to be there.

Merry and Mom had been working together designing special merchandise for the party. They hadn’t shown me any of the finalized designs yet, but I knew Mom was waiting anxiously for four boxes to be delivered. There was supposed to be here yesterday, but they never made it. They needed to get here quickly if the team was going to have enough time to bring them down to the track and get them set up with the rest of the party. That in and of itself was creating more anxiety and frantic energy throughout the complex. We were all excited about the party, but at the same time it was new, and we didn’t really know what to expect. The reality of taking time away from being down at the track gearing up for the race was starting to creep in for me. I was used to being there well ahead of time, tweaking the bikes and getting an overview of the track conditions. I’d still have time to do that but making an appearance at the party would cut into it. I had to see how I was able to balance the two to determine if this was something we could do again.