I should have known it was all too good to be true.
“There is other machinery on the complex you would likely be working on as well, but you would mostly work on the racing bikes. That would put you in direct contact with our riders, so you’d have to get to know each of them and the specifics they have for their bikes. Greg is the most recent addition to the racing team, and then there’s Darren.”
And with that, my heart stopped.
“Darren?” I asked.
Maybe it was a coincidence. It wasn’t like Darren was all that unusual of a name. And it could just be one of those things, like you’ve never heard a word in your life but as soon as you learn it, suddenly you hear it everywhere because you’re paying attention to it. Maybe the name Darren was just standing out to me because I had him on my mind.
“Yeah. He’s my younger brother. He’s been having really good success the last couple of seasons. It was actually his birthday yesterday.”
And there it was. The hammer drop. Now I knew exactly why Quentin looked familiar. I’d looked across a crowded bar at him sitting at a table with his brothers. Twice. Once three years ago and once last night.
Holy shit.
And there began the downward spiral of my positive thinking, and my monologue began.
I came into this thinking getting the position might be a challenge because being a female mechanic was a hard sell. Not because I’d be up against the ghost of Darren. Darren fucking Freeman, that is. Why didn’t I get the man’s last name?
I couldn’t believe I hadn’t figured it out. How could I have not put it together when I was searching for jobs and saw the listing for the available spot with the Freeman team? Fuck me and my terrible research skills.
There wasn’t really a reason for me to know who he was. I didn’t follow racing and wasn’t interested in the position because it had to do with racing specifically. I just wanted to work in a garage and happened to have a lot of experience with bikes. But all it would have taken was being a responsible candidate and looking into the team a little bit to see a picture of him or read a mention of his name. But no. I had to find out from his brother and father while they were showing me around the amazing facility I was already dying to work at. Awesome.
They brought me into the garage and showed me around. It was an amazing space with every tool and device I could want for. I tried to keep myself focused on that and not on Darren, but of course, that wasn’t going to be the way that worked out for me.
The door to the garage opened, and immediately both Quentin and Gus let out shouts.
“There he is,” Quentin said.
“How was your birthday celebration?” Gus asked.
He wasn’t rushing to answer. In fact, I didn’t know if he even heard them. Just like me, he was standing frozen in place, his eyes locked on mine. It felt like we stood there forever, but he recovered faster.
“Hey, Quentin. Hey, Dad. My birthday was good. What’s going on this morning?” he asked.
The string of words didn’t sound like they went together as he let them just tumble out of his mouth while he continued to stare at me.
“This is Kelly Hollister. We’re interviewing her for the open mechanic’s position,” Quentin told him.
I tried not to freak out as he said that. I, of course, knew that’s why I was there. But the introduction and explanation were made more than a bit awkward by the fact that neither of those men were aware I already knew Darren. Biblically.
“Mechanic?” he asked, looking between his brother and father, then back at me.
His voice had more of the uncertainty and questioning in it, but I wondered how much of that was because they’d never had a woman as a mechanic, and how much it was because he didn’t know that’s what I did for a living.
“Yes,” I said, thrusting a copy of my resume at him so he could see it.
I stood exactly where I was, doing my best not to show any sort of emotion or stress as I watched him read over the paper. He was doing the same thing, not giving anything away, and that made me feel even more on edge. I could feel the other two men watching us, but I stopped myself from looking to see if I could read their expressions. I wanted to seem casual, calm, and collected, and searching everybody’s face in desperate hope of some sort of recognizable reaction didn’t go along with that.
The whole thing had gone straight to hell. It was such a mess, I didn’t know how I was going to get myself out of it, and I considered just walking out and going back to Canada. It might not have been the ideal solution, but at least I wouldn’t feel like I was flailing around in quicksand just waiting to be swallowed up.