The shirt was far too big for her. Heather already thought she was going to look like a banana, but at least a fit banana that worked out and ran half marathons. Heather kept reminding herself that it was just a one-month gig, and none of her friends came to the racetrack, anyway. Once the Indy 500 was over, she’d have enough money saved up to make it through the summer until grad school and her grant money began.
“Name?”
Heather yawned, not bothering to cover her mouth in time. The woman behind the check-in counter gave her a sour look.
“Heather Vaughn.” Another one came, and Heather caught it in time to cover her mouth.
“Get used to it, sweetheart. If you’re working the parking lot, your mornings are only going to get earlier.” The woman had a smoker’s voice, and a pessimist’s smirk.
It’s not that Heather wasn’t a morning person, but four thirty wasn’t morning. That might as well have been in the middle of the night.
Giving the best smile she could manage in the pre-dawn hours, Heather said, “I’ll survive. Is there some coffee, though?”
The woman tilted her head, directing Heather to a small, worn and torn coffeemaker sitting on the cracked laminate counter by her side. “The makings are underneath. Don’t be expecting Starbucks quality or nothing.”
Oh, don’t worry. Heather tried to keep a positive attitude, but all of her mental energy was focused on keeping her eyes open. She reminded herself that a job is a job, and every hour was more money going into the graduate school fund. She would look back on the random jobs with a sense of whimsy as she laid beside her Olympic-sized pool. Or, if she played her cards right, one day she might be able to move into an apartment complex with a communal pool. Even that would be the life.
Heather brewed the coffee, and even though she could smell the bitter scent of every pot that had come before, the caffeine was better than nothing. After a healthy dose of powdered creamer, she took her Styrofoam cup and waited for the first day briefing to begin.
Heather insisted on being early, even if it was pre-dawn. Finally, the multitude of other yellow-shirts began to trickle in. Heather looked for someone, anyone, close to her age, but everyone looked either older or younger. She didn’t feel like spending much time with eighteen year-olds, especially the crowd of three squawking girls that came in, headphones around their necks.
A few guys looked to be about her age, good-looking ones, too. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad waking up extra early if she got to meet a cute guy or two along the way. Her friend Josie always joked that the best way to save money was have a guy take you out for dinner every night of the week.
One in particular caught her eye. He had sharp blue eyes that cut right through the room. As he turned to fish a yellow shirt from the long Z rack, Heather got a good look at his body. He had tattoos up and down his toned arms. She also got a good glimpse of his tight ass in his jeans. His hair was slicked back, and he had a beard that made her picture him as a lumberjack. It was sad to see him throw the frumpy yellow button-up over the tight white wife-beater that showed off his muscles and tattoos, but at least they could suffer in yellow silence together. He didn’t look nearly as forlorn about it as Heather.
She wasn’t a fan of making the first move, but sometimes a girl had to do what a girl had to do. She pulled an empty Styrofoam cup from the stack and was about to offer him a cup of black gold when the cranking woman behind the counter spoke up.
“Alright, I think everyone is here, so we’ll get started.” She looked around the room with an eyebrow raised, as if she was already disappointed in what she saw. The woman pulled off her glasses and let the drop around her neck, held there by a multi-colored, beaded chain.
She gave everyone a last withering look, like a school marm daring them to speak. “You’re all on parking enforcement, right? Right.” She didn’t pause a second. “We’re going to be directing cars to park. Sounds easy? Not when there’s no lines and the fields are bumpy as hell. God only gives us challenges we can handle.” She gave a laugh bitter enough to curdle that powdered creamer. “If your last name is A through K, report to Evan Kleeve after the meeting.”
A man to the left of chain-glasses woman raised his hand.
“L through S see me, and T through Z, you’re with Rob Martelli.”
Heather scanned the front of the room, but Rob Pickford was nowhere to near as eager to be identified. Heather looked around her, but didn’t see a hand in the air.
Even before Heather turned around, she knew it would be him. Good luck? Bad luck? That was Heather's kind of luck, the kind you couldn't really nail down. Of course she'd be working with the hot guy. No, not working with, working under.
She clenched her jaw. Any ideas about making the first move just flew out the window. The temperature dropped ten degrees.It was like a cloud drifting over the Sun. He was a supervisor.
You're not here for a hookup. You're here to put money away. Don't forget that. She did try not to forget, but after getting a good look at him, it was going to be hard for her to resist. Not only was he hot, but he was going to be her boss? Now that was a bad combo. Heather always had a thing for authority figures. It was undergrad all over again.
Forcing her eyes from Rob, Heather turned back to the chain-glasses woman who apparently continued to run the meeting for who-knew-how-long. If she couldn’t keep her mind off of him, Heather was doomed to repeat history, and that was something she couldn’t afford. Her financial plan was only one part of the grander one, and a relationship burning down in flames wasn’t in the plan. Even still, Heather’s mind danced with the fantasies. He had muscles, he had tattoos, and he had that mouthwatering power that Heather had craved in the past.
Damn right, the past. She struggled to focus on the words from the chain-glasses woman who couldn't seem to speak without sass dripping from every word.
“It’s gonna get cold, so dress appropriately. There’s always someone who thinks they’re a big man or a tough gal, and they end up freezing their tits off and running back here to warm up. You don’t get paid to sit around. That’s my job.” She said it with a wink, but there was nothing but truth in her eyes. Heather didn’t like the woman one bit.
After a few more tips, like drink plenty of water and other painfully obvious ones, the woman ended her speech, and the crowd began to disperse. Heather looked around, still a little unsure about what she needed to do. Everyone around her was chatting in groups, telling stories from previous years. She felt alone in a roomful of people, that heavy feeling of starting somewhere new.
One group stayed behind, and she heard the last of their conversation.
“Never can sleep the night before a race. Gonna throw one hell of a party instead. I figure that’s just as good.”
“Hell, everyone else does it. The noise gets louder than them damn cars on the track.”
The southern Indiana accent was foreign to Heather. She felt it was a bastardization of the true Southern accent. A Texas accent. Her father’s Texas accent that she had grown up with.
The last group broke apart, apparently with differing last names. Heather turned to find herself face-to-face with Rob. A yelp escaped her lips, and she cursed herself for being such a girl.
Looking up at him, Heather cursed the feeling welling within her.
He was even more handsome up close. Not only was he in charge, but he was tall. Heather had to crane her neck to meet his gaze. She always did like that. There was something about a tall man that just exuded confidence, and Heather was a sucker for confidence.
“Looks like you're stuck with me.” His deep voice was soothing like hot tea on a chilly Sunday. Heather would have no problem cozying up with that in a heartbeat.
After a hard swallow, Heather nodded and said, “Looks like it. Go easy on me, though. This is my first year.”
“A rookie?” His voice lightened just a touch. “No, no. First years get all the shit work.” A smile came to his lips, and it made Heather's heart flutter. He knew he was being playful, and she liked it.
“Fine then, go easy on me because I'm a woman?” She could flirt with the best of them, and she didn't mind using her feminine wiles against the rougher sex.
A flash of surprise crossed Rob’s face. “Now that doesn't sound very feminist, does it?”
“Who said I'm a feminist?” Heather had some friends that would beat her senseless if they heard her talking like this, but it was all in fun. Her resolve weakening, her self-control and grand plans aside, if she was going to be directing traffic twelve hours a day for an entire month, she was going to get something besides money out of it.
He tilted his head back toward the door. “Come on, I'll show you the ropes.”
At the mention of ropes, Heather's mind couldn't help but jump to some visuals that would make her mother wince.
God, what was it about this guy? Heather could usually keep her cool. It’s the tattoos, she concluded. There was something about ink on skin that just shut her mind down completely.
The early mornings were still cold, and going full speed on a golf cart only made matters worse. The bitter chill nipped at Heather's cheeks as she rode beside Rob as he drove around the perimeter of the race track. Her sense of direction wasn’t great to begin with, but in the early morning hours, she was dead lost.
Rob drove as if he knew the place like the back of his hand. After more twists and turns than she could count, they pulled off of a gravel road out into an open stretch of field. It looked ragged and unkempt, mowed nearly down to dirt.
“This is where all the action will be in a few weeks.” Rob spoke like Jesus Himself would rise from the spot on Memorial Day. It looked like a whole lot of nothing to Heather.
She raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Oh yeah.” Rob shifted in the cart so he was facing her. He was close, and she could almost feel the heat radiating from his body. Heather wanted to lean in. She knew what would happen if she did. Some part of her was thinking she was crazy for being so drawn to this man so fast, but that part was so small, she couldn’t hear the shouts of protest.
Closing her eyes, Heather went for the moment. She was never one to shy away from a chance at fun, and it might turn into something else from there…
Their lips met, electricity radiating outward from them.
The kiss was power. His lips were strong, taking control immediately. She felt Rob’s hands around her, sliding her over in the seat. Heather’s heart thudded in her chest, reminding her that she was alive, more than alive. A sigh escaped her as Heather felt her body melting into his. His body was so warm in the chilly morning air. The two fought for control, Heather enjoying putting up a little resistance. There was something earth-shattering about a man taking over, and fighting him on it only made things better.
The scent of clean laundry flowed from Rob. It was probably their tacky yellow shirts, but Heather wanted to think that was how he smelled, even stripped down to nothing. That was a theory she was eager to test.
For a split second, Heather fantasized that the kiss sped up the sunrise. She felt the warmth, and even with her eyes closed, she could see the brightness bathe her. In reality, the low watercolor clouds sauntered off, revealing the sun. She opened her eyes as the two moved away from each other. He looked satiated. Heather felt anything but.
After a second of silence, Rob turned back to the wheel and let out a low cough. “Anyway, this is where it all goes down.” He was grinning like a kid on Christmas.
Heather had a smile that couldn’t be wiped away. Maybe her long month of pre-dawn work parking cars wouldn’t be so bad, after all. Money, and getting to know Rob a little better? That was what she called a win-win.