I was still fuming.
I’d been fuming about what happened with him for so long I was nearly out of fuel.
My race had been a total bitch. The guys were worse than usual. Guess they didn’t like I was drawing attention away from the pros and toward the NRR.
‘Cause you know, my one disastrous meeting with the press went so well.
Well-meaning people told me not to take it to heart. You know, the usual haters gonna hate and they’re only jealous. Screw that.
The men in the pro circuit were just assholes. And I wasn’t wanted here.
Screw them.
I wasn’t running to the NRR because of it. But I was tired. I just wanted to do what I loved without so much damn drama. And people said women were the dramatic ones.
Yeah right. Men were just as bad. Big bunch of babies.
But I could handle it. I could and would handle anything they threw at me. Not just because I was strong, but because I was too stubborn to let them get the best of me.
My next race wasn’t for two weeks. I wasn’t racing in the one a week from now, something I wasn’t disappointed about. So I came home for a few days. My Skyline needed some work, and it was a good opportunity to take a day or two of downtime, because I wasn’t going to get much from here on out.
Just because my race wasn’t for a couple weeks didn’t mean my schedule was empty. I was going to Drew’s next race and doing some press.
I was closed off in my wing of the house (my wing = a private living room, a small kitchen, a huge bedroom, and a private en-suite bathroom). Drew and Trent had gone home, and it seemed a little quieter than usual. I’d gotten used to having them around for the past week.
I missed them already.
They had no boundaries as far as space was concerned. They’d barge right into my rooms without even knocking (well, except the bathroom). We’d had a movie night and eaten pizza. We drove and talked cars.
There was never one ounce of any kind of competition or sourness because I was a female driver or because my father was influential.
After a warm shower, I pulled on an oversized T-shirt and nothing else (I don’t have to wear pants in my own room) and pulled up my email. I’d ignored it for a few days and couldn’t go any further. There were invites and scheduling that needed confirmation. If I didn’t get it done, Hopper would be over here kicking me in my pant-less ass.
I sat down with a cold bottle of beer (I liked Miller Light) and tucked my bare, lotion saturated legs beneath me.
One of the first emails was from Emily Metcalf at GearShark. The subject line read: These Drivers Got #Swag. Draft of your feature article.
I snorted. It wasn’t going to be much of a feature because I’d basically walked out of it. A little prickle of embarrassment creeped up the back of my neck. I kind of acted like a brat that day. I shouldn’t have let him get the best of me, or Emily for that matter.
Some days were just hard to not feel so… suppressed and judged because I was a woman.
Not to mention the photoshoot, the kiss… him. It had all been an overload to my circuits.
I took a pull off my longneck and stared at the subject line.
Fuck it. I clicked on it and opened up the article. I wouldn’t allow myself to be embarrassed. I was strong. Capable. And I felt the way I did and acted the way I did for a reason. I didn’t have to apologize to anyone.
Except my father.
I drank some more beer. If Emily outlined my… uh, behavior in this article, my father was going to shit a brick.
Forget the NRR! he’d say. You’re sliding backward, Joey. You better get control before you end up where you were.
My long curls were still damp from the shower and the ends saturated my shirt with moisture. I snatched up the towel off my desk to squeeze out the excess water (never rub curly hair with a towel; the frizz is real) as I began to read the article.
(Side note: I noticed Lorhaven was the only name used. He hadn’t given his first name. Made me wonder how many people even knew it. Jace.)
(Side side note: I went by Joey G. with the press. I tried to downplay my relationship with my father. I wanted my own identity. I didn’t want to be known only as “daughter of Ron Gamble.”)
The pages of GearShark magazine have been filled with many firsts for the past year. First time features, breaking news of the then unnamed new indie racing circuit now known as New Revolution Racing (NRR), and a diversity in drivers that hasn’t been seen in the past.
We’ve even seen and heard from people behind the scenes on the track, like Trent Mask, who unknowingly started a lot of discussion in sports about athletes and acceptance.
Perhaps that’s what brought me to this interview today. Well, that and a good dose of buzz surrounding the new NRR and the pro racing circuit.
To be blunt, the pro division isn’t too happy. They’ve been having to share the spotlight, the pages of racing magazines, and their vast fan base with men most of them consider to not be professional drivers.
The world of racing is changing at a speed that rivals that of a Formula One car. Most of it has been met with excitement and anticipation. But for the drivers on the pro circuit, it’s been a time of closing ranks. Here at GearShark, we’ve learned many pro drivers find the birth of the NRR a slap in the face to all the hard work they’ve put in to get to where they are.
Personally, I think it’s all about supply and demand. Race fans want to see more driving. They want the thrill of watching underdogs duke it out with their gas pedals. And as Drew Forrester and other NRR drivers, like my featured guest today, Lorhaven, have proven, having a pro contract doesn’t make you a more skilled driver.
They’ve also given something a voice it seems pro racing has not: diversity.
That’s where my other featured guest comes in today. Yes, I have not one, but two drivers here for a unique perspective on the racing world. You might be familiar with Lorhaven and the previous mentions of him in GearShark.
He’s an NRR driver with a lot of promise, so much so he scored a coveted sponsorship by one of the owners of a new giant corporation. Brickstone Tires has put a lot of backing into the driver with only one name.
What’s more interesting is this guy has a man-sized chip on his shoulder regarding the pros. I saw it the day he drove into my interview with Drew Forrester and accepted his rival’s challenge. Lorhaven doesn’t like the pro circuit. He doesn’t like pro drivers.
I wanted to know why.
This prompted me to call Joey G. Not only is she a pro driver, but she’s a woman. Right now in the world of racing, there are two female drivers. Joey is the only one on this side of the country. She has huge sponsorship deals with Gamble Enterprises, Friars Fueling, and Rimmel London (the first cosmetics company to ever sponsor a driver).
Oh, and she’s also the daughter of business tycoon Ron Gamble.
I admit I first set up this interview because I wanted to see sparks fly when I put Lorhaven (the guy from the wrong side of the tracks?) and Joey G. (pros racing royalty?) in the same room.
The tension certainly runs high between these two. Add in the fact that I’ve been hearing a lot of rumors about a potential crossover for Joey G. from the pros to the NRR… Well, let’s just say this interview was so hot I was nearly burned.
Due to the tumultuous nature of the interview and some noticeable bitterness on Joey G.’s part, the dual portion of the interview was not as long as I would have liked.
But not to worry, this journalist doesn’t give up that easily, and I did get some information, some food for thought, and an answer to the burning crossover question. Also, I got some one-on-one time with Lorhaven that is sure to please.
Before I cut to the interview portion of this feature I’d like to just point out if my description of the fire between these two drivers wasn’t clear, perhaps you should close the magazine (but save your spot!) and check out this cover again.
Pictures speak a thousand words, you know.
The number one word this cover is speaking? Intensity.
Another fun fact: this is the FIRST issue in GearShark history featuring two models instead of only one. Way to embrace diversity GS!
And now, readers, start your engines. Buckle up. We’re about to take you for a sizzling ride.
GS: I’ll just ask you a few questions, and then I can do the rest of the interview with Lorhaven.
JG: Oh just a few questions? So you can relegate me to the back page with just a couple lines of text.
GS: Of course not.
JG: Wouldn’t be the first time. GearShark seems to have a reputation for being a good ol’ boys club, one that has a No Women Allowed sign front and center.
<I was taken aback by this response and pretty much said so.>
JG: I’m just a little… bitter. The last time I was mentioned in the magazine, I got one line of stats. All the other racers got bios with headshots.
<For the record, I did not write the article she seems to be referencing. However, I cannot imagine a time GS would treat any driver differently because of their sex.>
GS: So you think you’re discriminated against because of your gender?
JG: I know so.
GS: Most people would laugh or scoff at that. This is the twenty-first century. Women’s rights were in place a long time ago.
JG: So were rights for gays, people of different races… But my best friends are hated on for loving each other. The news reeks of injustice against all races.
GS: Touché.
JG: The truth is men don’t want women in racing. They just don’t. It ruffles their feathers.
<Up until now, Lorhaven had been lounging back in his chair, his long legs, accentuated in a pair of destructed, low-riding jeans, kicked out in a relaxed way. He’d been listening, watching… Something I got the impression this driver did often. Joey G.’s words had him making a sound.>
JG: Something to add, Lorhaven?
L: I find this fascinating.
<She ignored Lorhaven a lot in this interview. Something I found interesting. Lorhaven is a very good-looking man, with olive skin and an intense stare. I found it hard to not look at him.>
JG: Out there on the track a lot of testosterone is pumping. Men are in a primal form. Be the best. Be the strongest. They’re intimidated by a female coming along and trying to beat them.
GS: You said trying. Have you ever won?
JG: Of course. If I had more print time in these racing magazines and sports channels, you’d already know that.
GS: And what was it like for you after you won?
JG: It doesn’t matter if I win or lose, it’s always the same. I’m not wanted. They make it clear. I’m often isolated, left to work on my own. They don’t want to talk to me, but at me. When I try to interject into a conversation, say about engine parts or torque ratio, they suddenly start acting like I’m dumb or a child.
GS: Have you ever been hazed?
JG: The pro racing circuit prohibits hazing of any members.
<I found that answer to be very interesting, and it also made the journalist in me want to dig around to learn more about hazing in sports. It also became increasingly clear that Joey G. also felt stifled by the fact that Ron Gamble is her father. This journalist now knows why she only uses the first letter of her last name. It’s clear this is a strong woman who wants to drive her own path in the world.>
GS: Do you think he [Ron Gamble] sponsors you because you’re his only child?
JG: My father is a businessman, and I think his accomplishments attest to that. Do you really think a businessman would sink as much money into a racing sponsorship for someone if he wasn’t going to get a return on investment?
GS: This is all very interesting. I’d like to talk further with both of you. But first, I just really want to know… Is it true you will be leaving the pro racing circuit for a sponsorship in the NRR?
JG: <without hesitation> Yes. I’m finishing out my pro season, and then I’ll be crossing over.
<Lorhaven’s reaction to this admission was very interesting. He was almost angry.>
GS: You don’t like pro drivers. You’ve never hidden that fact. What’s up with that?
L: Because they’re a bunch of stuck-up assholes.
JG: Let me guess. You tried out, and they didn’t want you.
<Clearly, this woman has no problem saying what’s on her mind.>
GS: So what are your thoughts on this crossover and a female driver in the NRR?
L: I think she can’t hack it in the pros. She thinks it’s going to be easier in the NRR.
<Joey stiffened at his words, and the two commence with a stare-down that made me uncomfortable.>
L: <to JG> Guess what, sweetheart? The NRR is harder than the pros. No rules racing ain’t for girls.
<At this point in the interview, Joey G. decided she was done. Frustration and determination shone on her face as she thanked me for my time and drove away in a spotless yellow-and-black Nissan Skyline. I turned back to Lorhaven after a few moments of digesting what just happened.>
GS: Don’t you think no rules racing is a good place for a female driver? Because there are no rules?
L: No.
GS: Fair enough. Could you maybe elaborate on your experience with the pro driving division?
L: I’ve been driving all my life. My cars are top of the line; so are the parts. It took me years to get an audition, and I admit, my father had to use some connections of his.
<Lorhaven’s father is a successful businessman here in Maryland. He owns many companies, including two airports.>
GS: I take it the audition didn’t go well?
L: <laughs> I didn’t have an agent or any interested sponsors, and for some reason, the guy I drove for had a stick up his ass about Corvettes.
GS: You auditioned with a Corvette.
L: Yep. And as he well knew, the sponsors would come if the interest came, but he wasn’t willing to show any interest.
GS: Why do you think that is?
L: <His expression is that of someone who just ate some bad cheese.> Because I wasn’t in the “in crowd” with the division. My father didn’t know the right people. Neither did I. And because <he says grudgingly> I have a record.
GS: A criminal record?
L: Yes.
GS: For what?
L: Illegal betting.
GS: Well, I could see how that might raise some trust issues.
L: <shrugs>
GS: You don’t seem very apologetic about it.
L: <His black boots hit the ground as he sits forward. I have to say when eyes as dark as his settle on me, I feel partially swallowed up, and I catch myself leaning toward him.> Why should I be? I might have a wealthy father, and I didn’t grow up without or in what some people call the ghetto, but I was raised on the streets. That’s where I come from. That’s the disconnect between the pros and the rest of the world. Not everyone is groomed from birth to be drafted by an exclusive club. Some of us have to work for it. Some of us have to build our reputations from the ground up. Racing isn’t like playing My Little Pony. Cars are on the streets, where real drivers are born. That’s the kind of driving that earned me a spot in the NRR.
GS: What does your father think of your racing?
L: It doesn’t matter what he thinks. I drive for me. Not him.
GS: Does that mean he doesn’t approve?
L: My father supports me.
<Something tells me there’s a lot more to the dynamics of that father-son relationship, but that particular topic seems to be off-limits.>
GS: You mentioned a Corvette and so did Joey G. I’m assuming you have one, yet you drove a Lotus Elise here today. What happened to the Corvette?
L: Casualty of a street race.
GS: You wrecked it?
<His jaw worked like the question made him angry.>
L: Yeah.
GS: I would think someone as skilled at driving wouldn’t wreck his cars.
L: Shit happens.
<Instantly, someone stepped off the sidelines. I did a double take because, quite frankly, the guy looked a lot like Justin Bieber.>
Bieber: That’s not exactly true.
L: <Turns to look.> Shut it, Arrow.
GS: Who is this?
L: My brother, Arrow. He’s also a driver.
GS: Arrow Lorhaven?
Arrow: <Glances away, uncomfortable.> No. My last name is Ambrose.
GS: You two are half-brothers, then.
L: We’re brothers.
AA: Lor didn’t wreck his car because of his driving. He actually wrecked it on purpose.
GS: I can’t imagine why he would do that.
AA: <Glances at Lorhaven, who sighs and shrugs. This seems to be some sort of approval because Arrow continues.> Another driver was being erratic and flipped his car. Lor was in the lead, turned his car around, drove under the flipping car, and pushed my car out of the way.
GS: What happened next?
L: The other car fell on the Vette and totaled it. So I bought a Lotus.
GS: You have a reputation of…
L: <Laughs> Being an asshole?
GS: Frankly, yes.
L: I am an asshole. But that’s my brother.
GS: Where do you see yourself at the end of the first season for the NRR?
L: At the top.
GS: The man to beat is your rival, Drew Forrester. Think you can do it?
L: Yes.
GS: Do you and Drew really hate each other as much as the media purports?
L: <shrugs>
GS: One more question before we wrap up. You told Joey G. you think women don’t belong in racing and you don’t think she’ll be able to hack it. I’ve seen her stats. She’s a good driver. Do you really believe that?
L: I think being a woman in a male-dominated sport takes guts. She clearly has that. I’m down with the whole women equality and diversity. You gotta let people be who they want to be.
GS: But do you think she belongs in the NRR?
L: No.
As you can see, both of these drivers got #swag. And no, I’m not talking about the kind of swag that propels young men to wear their pants below their butts and allow their behinds to hang out (seriously, what’s up with that?). I’m not talking about some kind of rap term used in a popular song.
The kind of #swag I’m referencing is the confidence in which a person carries themselves. In order to have #swag, you have to be loaded with it. Something, I think, both of these drivers have in spades.
Furthermore, this interview has raised a lot of good discussion points that I don’t think have been addressed at length by the racing world.
What do you think about women in racing?
Do you think females are just as skilled and capable as men to drive and drive fast?
What are your thoughts on Joey G.? Do you think she’s right to think she’s been treated unfairly by the racing world?
Do you have a stance on the Pro vs NRR regarding which is a more “legitimate” racing division?
Does diversity belong in sports?
Let’s start a discussion! Hit up our online forums at GearShark.com/RacingDiversity to share your thoughts and opinions. As this continues to be a topic at the front and center of the racing world, we here at GearShark promise to bring you continued coverage and updates about all things racing, whether it be on the pro side or the NRR.
I sat back away from the computer screen and raised the beer to my lips in thought. None of the smooth liquid hit my tongue. I tipped the bottle back farther, and when I still wasn’t rewarded with the cool taste of comfort, I yanked it away with an aggravated grunt.
Empty.
Apparently, this article made me chug it down.
I pushed out of the desk chair, tossed the bottle in a nearby waste bin, and grabbed another longneck out of my fridge. Once the top was open and the first taste of a freshly opened brewsky slid down my throat, I was able to ponder what I just read.
Leaning a hip against the counter, I gazed across the room at the lit-up laptop screen. It could have been worse. I honestly thought Emily was going to rip me to shreds in her piece, considering I basically alleged she’d be giving Jace a blowjob when I left.
Uh-oh.
He’d become Jace in my thoughts. Not Lorhaven. That was dangerous with a capital D.
Emily skipped over my worst parts of the day and even erred on the side of giving me the benefit of the doubt. I would almost venture to say she could see my point in all of this. But it still wasn’t great.
I felt like it had been too telling… I’d been a little too honest.
Not that I was against honesty. I wasn’t. I hated liars.
But I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of effect this article was going to have when it came out and what the dudes I raced with on the pro side would think when they read what I said about them.
And then there was the NRR side. Lorhaven literally came out against me. He said he didn’t want me there. Would the other drivers follow his lead? Would I be an outcast among my peers before I even had a chance to prove them otherwise?
No. You have Drew and Trent this time. You already have support. That made me feel marginally better, because having them behind me was more than I had when I started in the pros.
But still… why did he have to be so blunt and unsupportive in the article?
At the end of the article, he did sort of backtrack a little. He said I had guts. He stated he was all for diversity.
And then there was the Corvette.
He’d put himself in danger to knock his brother out of the way. He showed loyalty and even love toward his family in that one act.
Actions speak louder than words.
And the way he acted when he kissed me… I shivered.
So once again, I got a glimpse of Jace.
“He literally said you couldn’t hack it, J,” I told myself and pushed off the counter to go change out of the damp shirt so I could finish checking my emails.
In my walk-in closet (that was partially empty because I wasn’t one of those girls that loves to shop and buy a bunch of clothes I’d probably only wear once), I pulled on a pair of black jeans and a grey T-shirt.
My mind kept wandering to the article, to Jace and to the mention Emily made of the cover. I wanted to see it.
Taking my half-empty beer along with me, I padded back to my desk. X-ing out of the article, I went back to Emily’s email to read it, since I hadn’t bothered in the first place.
Joey,
Here is the finalized proof of the feature for GearShark. If you have any changes, please send them in immediately, as our production staff has decided this article is going to run in next month’s issue (instead of the following month’s), which means it’s going into production in just a few days. The article is a big hit at the office, and the editor is anxious to get it onto stands.
I have also attached the cover so you can get a peek at it. No changes will be allowed to it.
Also, I’d like to just apologize because I feel like you and I didn’t get off to the greatest start. As a female who works at a magazine with predominately male readers, I want you to know I can see the kind of… challenges you must face in your chosen career. I wasn’t as sympathetic as I should have been. I’ll blame it on the fact Lorhaven was sitting there with us, and his presence was very distracting ;-).
Emily Metcalf
GearShark Magazine
Emily and I would never be friends. She irritated me the way synthetic fabric irritated my crotch.
And I called bullshit on the fact she was “distracted” by Jace. She was turned on, horny, and jealous because she saw me as competition.
However, I appreciated the parts of my interview she omitted.
I clicked on the attachment to pull up the cover. The image appeared on the screen.
My stomach clenched. My breasts tightened, and heat pooled between my legs. They chose the image of me against his back, in his shirt, with it slipping down my arms.
I still remembered the way his body felt against mine, the way my cheek fit against his shoulder.
It was all right there in my eyes, the attraction and heat I felt for him. It was almost electric.
And Jace… that photo was all Jace, no trace of Lorhaven.
The way he held his arm sort of in front of me and the look in his eyes… I hadn’t seen his face during the shoot because I, too, had been focused on the camera.
God help me, he was sexy.
And dangerous.
It was as if he dared anyone to come near either of us.
The image was black and white, done in shades of grey. I couldn’t help but draw a parallel with that. It was like me and him.
Joey and Jace existed in the grey of the racing world. Like we were on separate sides, apart but together… Together we were somewhere else altogether.
I minimized the pic and got up to pace away.
Suddenly, I felt full of energy and tension. My need for a restful, relaxing day was blown to hell.
I felt the need to shed it all. The feelings he incited in me. The image of our photo burned a hole in the back of my brain. Most of all, I wanted him out of my system. I didn’t want to be in such a tightly tied knot.
I snatched up my cell and hit a button. He answered on the first ring.
“I need a race. NRR style,” I said, still pacing.
“Our door is always open,” Drew replied.
“See you in a few hours,” I said and cut off the connection.
I went back into my closet to throw a few things in a duffle bag. Jace was going to eat his words.
He didn’t think I could hack it in his world?
I would prove him wrong.