Millionaire Daddy (Freeman Brothers 2)

Saying my goodbyes, I rushed out of the house and jumped into my car. The thought of what Pam had said stayed with me throughout my drive to the complex and as I rushed to the garage to get started on everything that needed to be done before the race. I really was lucky. Coming to a new place without really knowing anyone and not having a set plan of what I was going to do was a huge risk. Anything could have happened. I could have ended up totally alone, without the extra income I needed or without someone to take care of my daughter so I could work. Instead, I got my dream job and ended up with a neighbor who was rapidly becoming more like family. With everything going on and all the stress I was feeling, it was such a relief to know I had that.

I was the first one at the garage, and I immediately went to work going over all the checklists and readying everything that needed to be brought with us to the race. When Darren and Gus got to the garage there was too much to do for me to feel awkward, which was a blessing. I was still thinking about the encounter from the day before and how he’d looked after I told him I couldn’t go to dinner with the rest of the team. He seemed genuinely disappointed, and that made me feel guilty. But not just because I didn’t go out with everybody. I felt guilty because I didn’t tell him where I was actually going to be and the truth about me moving to Charlotte. That would have been a moment when I could have broached the subject. Right then I could have told him I wasn’t able to go to dinner with the rest of the team, but that I would very much like him to come back to my place with me.

Of course, that probably would have come across in a much different way than I intended it. But at least it would have gotten the conversation started. A conversation that definitely needed to be had at some point. Just not yet. I wasn’t ready.

The day flew by incredibly fast. It was as if time had been sped up and I was constantly chasing it, trying to fit far more into the minutes flying past than it was possible to get done. But I just kept going, kept working as hard as I could to get everything done. By the time we needed to pack up and head to the racetrack, some sort of miracle had occurred, and we’d managed to check everything off the lists.

“Is it always this hectic on race day?” I asked Vince as we loaded the trucks.

“Pretty much,” he told me with a laugh.

“It’s pretty intense,” I told him.

He laughed again, the sound enough to tell me he recognized the craziness that was his family leading up to an evening at the racetrack.

“You’ll get used to it,” he promised me.

The tailgating party I was looking forward to was fun, but I found myself thinking about the race. I ended up going down to the track before everybody else so I could get a feel for the area. It might have seemed silly to anybody else, but since it was my first time with the team, I wanted to feel comfortable and know I was ready to handle whatever might happen. Pam called me a few times throughout the day and checked in with me when it was time to put Willa to bed. I wanted to talk to her more, but it was important for me to stay focused on what I was doing. Taking care of the bikes was critical, and I had to do everything I could to keep Darren and Greg safe.

It was that sentiment, the reminder to myself every few seconds that the work I put into those bikes was what was keeping the men on them safe, that made my heart break when in the middle of the third lap, Greg went down. It all happened so fast, and yet it was almost like slow motion when I watched the machine tilt, topple over, then spin around toward the other bikes. The crunching sound was sickening, and as soon as the others were out of the way, the whole team took off running toward Greg sprawled out on the ground.

Relief washed over me when I saw him move. At least he was conscious. The medics came out right behind us, and I had to stand to the side and watch them move as fast as they could to get him off the track. Gus and I grabbed his bike and moved it to our tent to get it out of the way. Regardless of what just happened, the race was still going on. We had to try to block out all the noise and the worry and focus on figuring out what had happened to the bike. It wasn’t easy—I kept thinking about him falling and how much worse it could have been. I might not have worked with a bike racing team before, but I’d seen my fair share of brutal accidents on racetracks and knew firsthand how horrible the aftermath could be.