Page 107 of Down & Dirty

I had to get the name of that market.

My energy was back full force just in time for a huge press junket leading up to the pre-season launch. There had been so much hype about this new combined season, the two series had wanted one official kick-off event before the holiday. Supercross would take center stage once we got back from break, and then it was one fast downhill slide into a grueling season many of us were still wary of.

“Your room have chocolates on the pillow?” Ronnie asked me as soon as I found him in the lobby.

“I don’t know,” I replied, my eyes down as I rifled in my purse for a mint. “I didn’t look at the bed.”

“What were you doing up there?”

I straightened, checking to see if he was serious. I gave him an incredulous look as I waved a hand in front of me. “Do you think all ofthishappens on its own?”

For all the concern I’d had around appearing in public for Cory, it was events like this that actually spun me. Walking the fine line between being professionalandattractive in a male-dominated field was exhausting.

“You look nice,” he offered in a rush, his tone halfhearted.

“Shut up. Did you get my email about the change to the line-up?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, I got the memo. We’ve got plenty of time.”

I cringed, swatting my brother’s shoulder. “You know better than to say that. Now you’ve jinxed us.”

He laughed as I went back to looking for a mint. But when he cleared his throat uneasily, I glanced up, following his eye line. One of the team’s lawyers was coming right for us, and it took only a quick glance at Ronnie to know something was about to go down.

“Can I speak with the two of you?” The suit asked. “Privately,” he followed up, turning to usher us to the hallway lined with conference rooms. I knew OTM had some space set aside for private meetings, but I hadn’t gotten any invites this weekend. Until now.

Ronnie and I followed, and as soon as the door closed behind us, Isaw it was more than just the three of us. Two other members of the corporate team were already sitting on the opposite side of the long wooden table. My palms started to sweat; this didn’t feel right.

“Please, have a seat. I’m Jensen Howe, head of alliance management. And this is Stephanie and Carl, from my team.” Carl looked young enough to be an intern, his close-set eyes behind a pair of wire frame glasses that didn’t fit with his age. But Stephanie was all business. She was mean-mugging Ronnie like he’d personally offended her.

We took our seats. Ronnie was tugging anxiously at his sleeves and I got the gut feeling he and I were going to be getting into it later. I didn’t even need any details, the guilt in his eyes alone told me he was the reason we were there.

“It’s come to our attention that you’ve been in conversation with All Bright Shoes, a subsidiary of Blast Apparel.”

My eyes slid over to Ronnie and his cheeks turned pink; our hereditary giveaway painting his response all over his face before words even left his lips. This was bad. I went to casually wipe my sweaty palms on my pants, but my hands were shaking so bad I changed my mind and sat stock still as the room filled with tension.

“I wouldn’t call it a conversation.”

The tiny blonde in the middle sat forward in her chair. “Mr. Stone, did you meet with a representative from their team, Colson Ashe?”

“Mr. Ashe and I had coffee two weeks ago, but it wasn’t work related.”

Jensen tapped his fingers on the table. “And what was it related to?”

“We were just shooting the shit,” Ronnie said, correcting himself quickly when my eyes darted in his direction. “No part of our discussion was about racing or sponsorships.”

The trio opposite us didn’t move, their expressions frozen in masksof disapproval. “Are you aware of clause 16 in your agreement, Mr. Stone?”

Ronnie smiled at them, a cheeky grin of relief, before he turned toward me and said, “I’ll defer to my assistant. She’s more versed in the details of our agreement.”

Blood surged in my ears, the rush drowning out the sound of my internal scream. I hadn’t memorized his damn contract. And even if I had, the fact that Ronnie had been caught yet again talking to a potential competitor was filling my veins with adrenaline-soaked rage. How many times were we going to have to go over this?

Jensen sighed, giving me a slanted look of sympathy before he refocused on my brother. “Mr. Stone, let’s just cut to the chase. You’ve been warned more than once that we have strict rules around collaborations, sponsorships, and endorsements. Blaze Apparel would be a direct competitor for our partner HardSpun Elite. They’ve voiced their concern about your engagement with Blaze, and we take that concern seriously.”

“I haven’t signed anything,” Ronnie said, his petulance only serving to dig Jensen in even further.

“You have a choice to make,” he said, pushing away from the table. His two compatriots followed, the three of them standing on the other side of the table looking down on us. “Cease any and all engagement with any outside sponsors, or you’ll be relieved of your position on the team.” Jensen opened the door, letting his colleagues out first. “Is that clear?”

Ronnie held the man’s gaze longer than was wise, given the position he was in. “Clear.”

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