Against the Ropes
Page 90
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At a signal from one of the clients, Crash hits the gas and the Audi roars around the track. The clients stop and start his vehicle, and then make it perform a dizzying array of tricks. When Crash pulls up in front of us, everyone cheers.
“Might be worth the investment they are seeking after all,” Max muses.
We spend the rest of the afternoon watching Crash and Dirty Dan test the system on different vehicles. Max’s eyes light up when it passes the final test in my Aston Martin. He excuses himself to talk to his clients, and Dirty Dan climbs up to the viewing platform and tosses me the keys, a helmet, and a pair of coveralls.
“Try it out,” he says with a wink.
My mouth waters. Me…in an Aston Martin going as fast as I want. The temptation is almost too much, but I’ve learned my lesson about Max’s overprotectiveness. “I’d better ask Max. He has strong views on things he thinks might be dangerous.” I say the right words. I will do the right thing. But in the end, if he says no, I’m going anyway.
I catch Max between conversations. “Is it okay if I take the Aston Martin for a spin? Dirty Dan gave me the safety lecture. I have my certificate.” I hold up the white and gold embossed paper with my name printed neatly in the center. To my dismay, Max doesn’t even glance at it.
“No.”
“I’m a good driver. Steve had me take the same driving course as the police cadets. I promise I’ll be careful.”
He shakes his head. “It’s a new technology. I came here because Crash and Dirty Dan are experts. They can handle any emergency.”
“But it worked perfectly on every test,” I complain.
“No.”
“I’ll go with her,” Dirty Dan interjects. “If the system fails, I’ll be there to take over. It will be no different from any member of the public going out on the track.”
I throw my arms around Max, tilt back my head, and bat my eyelashes. I am not above all-out begging to get behind the wheel. “Pleeeeeeeeeease.”
A smile tugs at his lips. He looks from Dirty Dan to me and back to Dirty Dan. His jaw tightens. “One hundred miles an hour. Tops.”
“Come on, Max! It has a top speed of two twenty. You can’t expect me to get in a car like that and not—”
“One hundred or nothing.”
“Fine,” I sulk. He won’t be able to do anything once I get behind the wheel.
Max grunts and looks at Dirty Dan. “No risky maneuvers. Just a few laps around the oval, and keep an eye on her. She’s hard to control.”
“She’s standing right here.” I wave my hands in his face. “You don’t have to talk about her as if she doesn’t understand what’s going on.”
Dirty Dan snorts a laugh and leads me down to the vehicle. A thrill runs through me when I slide into the form-fitting bucket seat and breathe in the new car smell of polish and leather. The gray interior is all curved lines and soft angles. The high-tech dash looks like something out of a spaceship. Dirty Dan helps me adjust the seat and runs through the instrument panel, but all I really care about is the speedometer.
We pull on our helmets and Dirty Dan points out a few more features. “It will do zero to sixty in 4.7 seconds, and we’ve put in paddle shifters because most people don’t know how to operate a manual transmission.”
“I do.”
Dirty Dan grins. “Why am I not surprised?”
My hands shake as I turn the key and start the engine; I glance at the window and wave to Max. Even from here I can see the tension in his body. Poor Max. He thinks he is tense now. In zero to sixty seconds, I’ll show him tense.
“Ready to go?”
I nod and hit the accelerator. The vehicle roars to life and I am thrown back in my seat when we shoot down the speedway. It takes me half a lap to get a feel for the vehicle, but once I am comfortable, I press the pedal to the floor and the speedometer needle creeps upward. One hundred. One twenty. One fifty. One seventy-five. I glance over at Dirty Dan and he gives me a wink.
“Doing well. Just keep it steady. No sudden moves.”
When we hit one-eighty, my grin stretches from ear to ear, and excitement takes my breath away. Everything outside us is a blur—Max, his clients, the clubhouse. My only reality is here—Dirty Dan, the Aston Martin, and me.
“You are one hot little package,” Dirty Dan murmurs. “Look at you go. No fear in you at all. You handle the vehicle better than most of the clients I’ve taken out. Why did Max never bring you here before?”
“We haven’t known each other long.”
The steering wheel jerks suddenly to the side and I glance over at Dirty Dan. “What was that?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t know. Maybe you hit a rough patch. Make sure you keep your hands at ten and two.”
I slide my hands into correct position and the steering wrenches again, this time turning so sharply I almost lose my grip. The car veers to the edge of the pavement.
“Crap,” Dan mutters. He pushes a red button, frowns, and pushes it again. “Looks like something is wrong with their remote system and the manual override. Slow down and pull over.”
Before I can hit the brakes, the steering wheel spins out of my grasp.
“Look out!” Dirty Dan grabs for the steering wheel just as we fly off the track. We spin, round and round and round across the grass. It takes both Dirty Dan and I to hold the wheel straight until the vehicle is under control. We finally come to rest at the side of the track, and I take a huge breath, adrenaline pumping through my veins.
“Might be worth the investment they are seeking after all,” Max muses.
We spend the rest of the afternoon watching Crash and Dirty Dan test the system on different vehicles. Max’s eyes light up when it passes the final test in my Aston Martin. He excuses himself to talk to his clients, and Dirty Dan climbs up to the viewing platform and tosses me the keys, a helmet, and a pair of coveralls.
“Try it out,” he says with a wink.
My mouth waters. Me…in an Aston Martin going as fast as I want. The temptation is almost too much, but I’ve learned my lesson about Max’s overprotectiveness. “I’d better ask Max. He has strong views on things he thinks might be dangerous.” I say the right words. I will do the right thing. But in the end, if he says no, I’m going anyway.
I catch Max between conversations. “Is it okay if I take the Aston Martin for a spin? Dirty Dan gave me the safety lecture. I have my certificate.” I hold up the white and gold embossed paper with my name printed neatly in the center. To my dismay, Max doesn’t even glance at it.
“No.”
“I’m a good driver. Steve had me take the same driving course as the police cadets. I promise I’ll be careful.”
He shakes his head. “It’s a new technology. I came here because Crash and Dirty Dan are experts. They can handle any emergency.”
“But it worked perfectly on every test,” I complain.
“No.”
“I’ll go with her,” Dirty Dan interjects. “If the system fails, I’ll be there to take over. It will be no different from any member of the public going out on the track.”
I throw my arms around Max, tilt back my head, and bat my eyelashes. I am not above all-out begging to get behind the wheel. “Pleeeeeeeeeease.”
A smile tugs at his lips. He looks from Dirty Dan to me and back to Dirty Dan. His jaw tightens. “One hundred miles an hour. Tops.”
“Come on, Max! It has a top speed of two twenty. You can’t expect me to get in a car like that and not—”
“One hundred or nothing.”
“Fine,” I sulk. He won’t be able to do anything once I get behind the wheel.
Max grunts and looks at Dirty Dan. “No risky maneuvers. Just a few laps around the oval, and keep an eye on her. She’s hard to control.”
“She’s standing right here.” I wave my hands in his face. “You don’t have to talk about her as if she doesn’t understand what’s going on.”
Dirty Dan snorts a laugh and leads me down to the vehicle. A thrill runs through me when I slide into the form-fitting bucket seat and breathe in the new car smell of polish and leather. The gray interior is all curved lines and soft angles. The high-tech dash looks like something out of a spaceship. Dirty Dan helps me adjust the seat and runs through the instrument panel, but all I really care about is the speedometer.
We pull on our helmets and Dirty Dan points out a few more features. “It will do zero to sixty in 4.7 seconds, and we’ve put in paddle shifters because most people don’t know how to operate a manual transmission.”
“I do.”
Dirty Dan grins. “Why am I not surprised?”
My hands shake as I turn the key and start the engine; I glance at the window and wave to Max. Even from here I can see the tension in his body. Poor Max. He thinks he is tense now. In zero to sixty seconds, I’ll show him tense.
“Ready to go?”
I nod and hit the accelerator. The vehicle roars to life and I am thrown back in my seat when we shoot down the speedway. It takes me half a lap to get a feel for the vehicle, but once I am comfortable, I press the pedal to the floor and the speedometer needle creeps upward. One hundred. One twenty. One fifty. One seventy-five. I glance over at Dirty Dan and he gives me a wink.
“Doing well. Just keep it steady. No sudden moves.”
When we hit one-eighty, my grin stretches from ear to ear, and excitement takes my breath away. Everything outside us is a blur—Max, his clients, the clubhouse. My only reality is here—Dirty Dan, the Aston Martin, and me.
“You are one hot little package,” Dirty Dan murmurs. “Look at you go. No fear in you at all. You handle the vehicle better than most of the clients I’ve taken out. Why did Max never bring you here before?”
“We haven’t known each other long.”
The steering wheel jerks suddenly to the side and I glance over at Dirty Dan. “What was that?”
He shakes his head. “Don’t know. Maybe you hit a rough patch. Make sure you keep your hands at ten and two.”
I slide my hands into correct position and the steering wrenches again, this time turning so sharply I almost lose my grip. The car veers to the edge of the pavement.
“Crap,” Dan mutters. He pushes a red button, frowns, and pushes it again. “Looks like something is wrong with their remote system and the manual override. Slow down and pull over.”
Before I can hit the brakes, the steering wheel spins out of my grasp.
“Look out!” Dirty Dan grabs for the steering wheel just as we fly off the track. We spin, round and round and round across the grass. It takes both Dirty Dan and I to hold the wheel straight until the vehicle is under control. We finally come to rest at the side of the track, and I take a huge breath, adrenaline pumping through my veins.
