Page 22 of Shifted

Clyde snorted. “We’re all amateurs. His guys were no worse than anyone else’s, and you know it. You’re just trying to stir up shit. You want Hughes out because his team is number one. You need him gone and you need to win this season if you’re going to land the Landon family for next year.”

Claasen’s face flushed. “That’s not?—”

“Save it, Karl. It’s all over the paddock. Mike Landon, the rich American who is looking for a team for his kid, told you your team needed to win again this year if he was going to let his kid race with you next year. His family only races with the top team, and his precious Mike Junior has to be the number one driver. That means if Hughes wins, Landon will go race with them.”

“Sounds like an effing nightmare to me,” Jack said. “Snot-nose kid with no skill.”

Clyde nodded his agreement and then took a swig of his beer. “You might want that family as your client, but I sure don’t, mate. That’s just a nightmare waiting to happen. What’re you gonna do when Junior loses? From what I’ve seen, he’s no Michael Schumacher. He’s a bunch of bollocks is what I heard. He loses and it will be all your fault. Daddy won’t like it one bit. A nightmare to be sure.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve made no such deal. I’ve spoken to Landon, of course, and I would be honored to have Michael Junior join my team, but there is no deal in place. Michael isn’t ready yet. That’s why he’s not driving in the European Cup this year.”

Clyde shook his head. “It’s all over the paddock, mate. You’re desperate for a win and will do anything to get it. Just like everyone knows Hughes Racing is on their last legs. Daddy got them so far into debt they’re drowning. Nothing stays secret in the paddock.”

Greer’s mouth went dry. If what he was saying was true, then things really were desperate. Dalton would be beside himself.

Claasen stood as the waiter approached. “Yeah, and I hear you’re in a bit of financial hot water yourself.” He glanced at Jack and then back at Clyde. “Maybe having your brother-in-law as your partner wasn’t such a good idea.” And with that, he strode out of the dining room.

Greer had been taking notes verbatim on her laptop. As much as she hated gossip, this was how racing worked and also how she was going to find out the truth. Rumors usually had a basis in fact. She sipped her wine. Where there was smoke…as the saying went.

“Your dinner,” the waiter said.

Greer moved her laptop out of the way but kept it between her and Jack Rountree as the waiter placed her stew in front of her along with a basket of crusty bread. The divine smell made her mouth water and her stomach rumble. Taking another sip of wine, she surveyed the room while she waited for her stew to cool.

The room had filled up while she’d been eavesdropping. Now it was mostly full of men. European Cup drivers and team members. Italian, French, German, and even some Dutch, the jumble of languages flowed around the room. There was a tone of subdued excitement in the air. The first race of the season was always exciting.

Greer took a spoonful of stew and then chewed while she buttered the bread. It tasted as good as it smelled. She remembered what it was like to be excited about racing. To be fired up and anxious to get behind the wheel and out on the track. And she remembered how it had all turned to shit.

She let out a sigh. Her past didn’t matter, she reminded herself. This didn’t have to turn into the nightmare she’d been dreading. Keep it simple. Do your job and then get out. That’s all she had to do.

Greer lingered over her dinner waiting for Jack and his brother-in-law to leave. Finally, they disappeared, and she packed up her stuff. She signed the bill to her room and was heading out of the dining area when she pivoted on her heel and headed back to the bar. One more glass of wine wouldn’t hurt. She needed a bit of courage.

She stood at the bar next to an older well-dressed man talking on the phone. “I told you I’m good for it,” he hissed while his fingers drummed a rhythm on the bar. “I don’t care. I’ve been a customer long enough. You can cut me some slack,” he demanded. His foot tapped on the floor as he continued to fidget. The guy was totally wired. “I’ll be able to get it to you by the end of the week,” he said and then slammed his phone down on the bar.

Greer hoped he had a protector case, or that would be one smashed screen.

He gulped down the remainder of his wine and almost dropped the glass as he went to set it down. Then he scooped up his phone and stormed out of the bar area.

Greer looked at the glass. There was a residue on the inside of it.

“What can I get for you?” the bartender asked.

“Er, not what he had.” She pointed to the glass.

The bartender picked it up and held it to the light. He frowned. Then he put it into the sink behind the bar. “He must have added something to it.”

“Huh,” she said. Suddenly she didn’t feel like another glass of wine anymore. “You know what? I think I’ll have a bourbon.” Being here was bringing up all kinds of memories she’d fought so hard to bury. It was overwhelming.

The bartender nodded at her and poured her a glass of bourbon. She took it and belted it back.

He raised his eyebrows at her, but she just smiled and said, “Have a nice night.”

Greer slung her laptop bag over her shoulder and was walking across the open courtyard between the two buildings when someone called her name.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

She froze. Turning, she broke into a big smile. “Gus!” she squealed and then gave the big man a hug. He picked her up off the ground and squeezed.

“How have you been? What are you doing here?” Gus put her down and held her away from him. “You look great.”

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