CHAPTER FOUR
Locke
I loved the beach. Loved surfing, running along the shoreline, dodging the waves. But more than that, I loved the sand between my toes, the smell of the sea air, the way the sun rose over the ocean. Growing up less than a block from the shore, I guessed you could say that the beach was as much a part of me as my own heart. Business had infringed upon my beach time in the same way it’d usurped almost everything else in my life, so whenever I entertained clients or held an important meeting, I was sure to do it at Ocean Place, a beautiful resort overlooking the sea.
Laura’s assistant, Denise, had booked the outdoor meeting room, as usual, and made all the arrangements for lunch. The flight from Phoenix got in at eleven, and the Town Car with Emma and her brother was due to arrive at noon, so I figured a lunch meeting would be best. When I got there, I waved hello to the owner and proceeded to our space, which was on the top floor, open air, under a canopy.
Upstairs, I dipped my sunglasses down the bridge of my nose to inspect the arrangements under the shade. A warm breeze was blowing, and the ocean was like a mirror today. Definitely not a surfing day, which was a good thing, or else it’d be torture to concentrate on NASCAR when the perfect wave was shaping up.
The oval table had been set out with yellow and black linen, to match the UnCaged logo, and pitchers of water and iced tea were already chilling in the center. I nodded my approval to the hostess and poured myself a glass of water, downing it quickly. “Show them upstairs when they arrive.”
Laura and I sat facing the ocean, going through our emails and not speaking, flanked by the other members of the marketing and sponsorship team. Six of us in all. I’d done a hundred deals like this before, but today, I felt a quiver of excitement.
I wanted to meet Emma. I’d done more research than was healthy on her, usually late at night when I couldn’t sleep, since I’d always been plagued by insomnia. I’d seen the pictures of her. She was a live wire and tough, but I guessed she had to have that spark to race at two hundred miles an hour. Her heart for her brother was huge. Whenever she spoke in interviews, she always deflected to him, saying that this was his dream, and he was her inspiration, and she was carrying on the family dream in his name.
But something in her eyes made me think there was something else waiting to be unraveled. No, I didn’t fuck around with business partners. Truthfully, I’d never been tempted, but with Emma… I was more than tempted.
I’d gone nearly into obsession. She likely knew nothing about me, and yet I knew her whole life history. Or at least, everything the internet would provide.
I was so deep into my thought of her that I almost missed her arrival entirely. Laura stood first, and I followed as Dan Hill, our marketing director, arrived with Brody James, a handsome, wiry guy that breathed NASCAR enthusiast right down to his 48 ballcap — I guessed that was someone’s racing number, but I had no clue whose. He looked exactly like the type of prick who used to kick my ass up and down the hallways in school. My smile faltered.
It faltered even more as I took in the empty sleeve on the left side of his body. I couldn’t imagine the hell he’d been through losing his arm in a freak accident like he did. The man looked pale, nothing like the robust figure I’d researched before the accident.
Before I could think more about it, Emma trailed in. Her glossy black curls were trapped in a ponytail at the base of her neck, and her face was hidden by dark cat-eye sunglasses. She wore a tight baby t-shirt, a denim skirt that bared long legs, and damn, red cowboy boots. She walked in a way that made me think she didn’t give a shit what anyone in this world thought about her.
My cock pulsed as she drew closer.
“Hello,” I said, reaching over to shake her brother’s hand. Eyes covered by my mirrored sunglasses, I kept them trained on her. All I’d seen before were pictures of her in coveralls, but that was enough to intrigue me. She had a tight waist that created a dangerous curve on the way to her full ass. The white t-shirt hugged mouthwatering breasts, the nipples of which I could see poking through the thin fabric. They. Were. Exquisite. Just a handful, but high and round and pert. It was a shame she’d kept them covered so much, but I supposed she had to, or else the men she worked with would be on her like flies on sugar.
I shifted my eyes back to my hand and realized I was still shaking her brother’s. “Brody James, I presume? A pleasure.”
He nodded and moved aside for his little sister. I’d had plenty of men ogle my little sister before, and I immediately felt guilty, though he hadn’t seemed to notice, thank god. “And this is Emma.”
“Emma.” I smiled, reaching over and taking her hand. She gripped it even firmer than her brother had and gave it a hard shake that might have dislocated the shoulder of anyone who wasn’t reasonably fit.
“Very happy to be here, sir,” she said loudly. She had a little twang of an accent, and I was immediately charmed.
“Please. Call me Locke,” I said, motioning to the chairs across from us. Brody pulled one out for his sister, and they both sat down together.
For someone who had lost an arm less than two months before, he was handling himself well. Emma removed her sunglasses under the canopy and whispered something to him, like a little girl with a secret, and he nodded. Then he leaned forward to let me in on it. “We’ve never seen the ocean before.”
“Oh, yeah?” I moved aside to give them a better view. “Well, we’ve got one of the best beaches in the state.”
Emma was blushing now. I thought she may have kicked her brother under the table. “We haven’t been to many East Coast races,” she explained.
“And how many races have you, personally, competed in?” I asked.
“Three,” her brother answered for her. “In the Xfinity Series.”
I looked at Laura. I’d known the answer to this. I’d expressed concern that she was too new, too green, but my sister had assured me that she was on her way up, and I should snatch her, right now.
Meanwhile, Emma had reached over and snagged a roll from a napkin-covered basket. Without any hesitation, she stuffed half of it in her mouth. “I’m starving,” she said as she chewed.
I held up a hand to tell her it was fine, then ventured another question. “Where’d you get your start with racing?”
“We’ve been at it since we were kids,” Brody said. “Go-kart racing and stuff.”
The waiter came by to take our orders as Emma was finishing her roll. “I’ll have a double cheeseburger with extra fries.”
I stared at her. Where would she put all those carbs? And the fat? Besides, this was the best seafood restaurant and she wanted cow? I looked at the waiter and said, “Cod, grilled, no butter, and the spring vegetables.”
When I glanced up from my menu, she was staring at me, and I felt her dark eyes boring straight into my soul, unraveling me. I wanted to ask her what she was thinking. But what I wanted more was to see some of the fire I’d seen on those videos. That was what really intrigued me… that feisty spirit that screamed “winner.” I wondered what I had to do to pull it out of her.
As we waited for the food to arrive, Laura went into her practiced speech about UnCaged. She’d done it enough, it was like second nature to her. She spoke about how we’d both come out of college with sports-related degrees and wanted to do something to help with the obesity epidemic. She went on about how impassioned UnCaged was about delivering fitness to all people.
It was just what I needed, because now I could sit back and study Emma. She was listening politely, being the model guest, but I couldn’t help but wonder what would bring out that beast in her, the one who got behind the wheel and took no prisoners. Then I wondered what it would be like to undress her, to lift that tiny t-shirt over her head and bare those perky tits.
I cursed myself and lifted my ice water to my lips. Not that. Not now. Not ever.
When Laura finished her spiel, she smiled. “Do you have any questions?”
Emma looked like she was going to say something, but Brody spoke up before she could. “No, ma’am,” Brody answered. “Sounds like a great outfit.”
“Oh.” Laura winced. I could tell she was flustered about being called ma’am. She’d hated turning thirty this year. “Well, I’ll certainly give you our cards in case you think of anything.”
I focused squarely on Emma, hoping her brother would get the hint and stop holding her hand. “And where do you see yourself in five years?”
Brody didn’t take the hint. Instead he just grinned, although the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “She wants the Cup.”
Emma looked at him like he was crazy and nudged him. He shrugged confidently, like it was only a matter of time before she got there. He believed in her, that much was sure. Her brother must have come on as her unofficial manager from the way he was answering the questions. Clearly, he had more experience at this sort of thing than she had, and he was just leading her around. But I wanted to see more of her personality, to judge whether she’d be good for the Drive Like a Girl campaign. She had the looks, for sure, and the body, hell yes… I just needed to see that spark.
I leaned back in my chair, keeping my eyes on her. “Three races? You’re far from the Cup. Did I read you came in dead last in Iowa?”
Our food came then, and she grabbed her burger and took an enormous bite out of it. “Yes,” Emma began, still chewing. “Because—”
“But she placed in Kansas,” Brody pointed out. “And Emma’s got ice-water in her veins. She can be ruthless when she wants to be. She has the potential.”
“Brody is the one with the professional race experience,” she admitted, looking over at her brother cautiously. What was that? Survivor’s guilt? I didn’t deal in petting people, in helping them get out their feelings. My business was in driving people to be better. She droned on about him, but I’d lost interest. “He got in a lot more races before his accident. Even big ones. I was in his pit crew, so I—”
I pushed my vegetables around the plate with my fork, more interested in her than in Brody. “But you placed in Kansas. Was that a fluke?”
Brody was shaking his head violently. “Uh-uh. You kidding me? Not a fluke. You see the way she tore them up? She’s a natural,” Brody said, championing her. He was clearly a salesman. Meanwhile, Emma just sat there quietly, calmly, leaking no emotion whatsoever as she let him fight her battle.
Dammit. Nothing I’d said before had riled her up. Right now, she looked about as stirred up as a cesspool. I knew driving was about being calm under pressure, but I wanted to see her blow her top.
It came to me, what to say then. What was guaranteed to bring the fire out. And I was so ready to travel into dangerous territory with her. I put my fork down, leaned forward, and said matter-of-factly, “If she were a natural race car driver, she’d been born a man.”
Brody just stared at me, finally speechless. After a moment, he said, “Well, if that’s the way you feel, you’re out of luck. In case you didn’t notice, I’m the only man here. I’m down an arm, and I ain’t getting back into racing anytime soon. So if you ain’t for Ems, you ain’t for either of us.” He took his napkin and threw it on his plate, pushing away from the table. He said to his sister, “Come on, Ems.”
“Sit down, Brody,” she said quietly, not looking at him. No, her eyes were hard on me, and her words were clipped and full of passion. “I know I don’t have a lot of experience, but I could win for you, Mr. Cage.”
That interested me, but I wasn’t going to sink a couple million dollars into a sponsorship for could. I needed more insurance than that. “Why do you think that?”
She leaned forward, and I could feel her warm to the subject. “Because I want it more than all of them put together.”
I needed more. I wanted the fire. “Is that so? A lot of people want. Few people actually get.”
“But I will,” she insisted flatly.
“How can you be so confident?”
“Why do you seem so confident that I can’t?” she shot back, her voice finally rising. There it was. The spark. Her nostrils flared, and she banged the table with her fists for emphasis. “Seems like you spent an awful lot of money to bring me out here just to tell me that you don’t think I’m good enough to drive with your logo on my hood.”
My associates around the table had begun to shift in their seats. They sure as hell didn’t talk to me that way. No one did. But truthfully? I loved it. “I only want to see what I’m getting myself into, Miss James.”
She let out a dismissive laugh. “Pretty boy like you? Guaranteed to be in over your head. Do you even watch NASCAR, Mr. Cage?”
Laura snorted, which caused me to smirk. Someone down at the end cleared his throat. Pretty boy. So that’s what she’d been thinking about me. Sure, it was better than what I’d been called in middle school, but I felt my confidence lag. Everyone at the table was now waiting for my answer, and I wasn’t going to respond. I changed the subject. “And what do you tell the people who say that NASCAR is just for men?”
She shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“If they think that, they’re not worth my time.” She stirred her ketchup with a fry. “Besides, I’m not one to talk. I’d rather show them how wrong they are.”
I leaned forward. “And if you can’t?”
She leaned forward too, a slow smile spreading across her face. “That word isn’t part of my vocabulary, Mr. Cage.” She lifted the red-coated fry and waved in my direction as she spoke to her brother. “I don’t think I want a bully as my sponsor, Brody. What do you say we finish up our lunches and head back to Arizona?”
He nodded, shooting eye-daggers at me from across the table.
What. The. Fuck.
Who was running this meeting, anyway? And did she just call me a bully? I’d been bullied all of my childhood. I’d donated millions to anti-bullying programs all over this country.
I was a lot of things. But one thing I was not was a fucking bully.
I looked around the table and said to my associates, “If you wouldn’t mind leaving us, I’d like a word with Miss James in private.”