Page 17 of Down & Dirty

Driving back to my hotel, I considered calling my dad. Or Ronnie. But the idea of having to ask them for more money made my stomach knot all over again. Ronnie’s team salary was higher than he’d been making before, but he was my little brother. He paid me the percentage we’d agreed, and I didn’t want to try and change that now.

Asking my dad gave me even more anxiety. He’d blow up if he found out Tommy was changing things. He’d demand we put it in writing this time, and I knew Tommy would play the same game he had before. My dad was right, I could see that. But given how poorly Tommy had been doing last season, it was getting even more likely that he’d retire. And if he did, I’d have to decide between quitting Ronnie, or not seeing my son for weeks at atime.

No way was I going to let that happen.

No, I needed Tommy to keep racing, so we could all be on the road together, and things could stay how they were. I had other plans for my life, but I wasn’t ready for any of that yet. We’d just gotten this big break with OTM, I needed to see that through, which meant staying on the road with my brother. Geena might have been ready for a change, but I wasn’t. So, I’d just have to find a way to pay Tommy and make it work.

As I pulled into the hotel where we’d found a long-term rental, my heart sank. I’d have to start dipping into my college fund to make up the difference once the season started. Putting even more distance between me and going back to school sank like a stone in my gut, and I couldn’t bear to go inside that cold and empty suite. When my eyes landed on the dive bar across the street I shrugged.

If there was ever a time to drown my sorrows, this was it.

It wasn’t my style to drink, but I felt a sigh of relief slip loose as I pushed through the heavy door and stepped into the dark bar. The wood floors were dinged and scratched, and the neon signs on the wall cast some of the only light. It smelled like beer and nachos, and I smiled when I heard the twang of a country song coming through the speakers.

A small dance floor was set against the back wall, past the bar and a row of booths that sat mostly empty under green-glass drop lights. For all that this place was lacking, it had a kind of run-down charm that warmed through me and I took a seat at the bar with a smile on my face.

“That one’s taken,” the bartender said as she came over to me, pointing at the glass I’d failed to notice with a coaster set on top of the rim.

“Oh shoot, sorry.” I hopped down and moved two seats over. There were only a handful of patrons at the bar, and all of them were glued to the baseball game on the TV behind her.

“What’ll you have?”

As I scanned the shelf of booze at her back, I was hit with a strange craving. “How about a margarita?”

“Salt on the rim?”

“Yes, please.” I licked my lips as she turned away to start my drink.

A voice came from beside me, startling me. “Like you’re not salty enough?”

My shock instantly hardened into disdain as recognition hit. I knew that voice, and I didn’t like it.

Cory took the seat two down and flicked the coaster from the top of his drink. He gave me an arrogant smirk as he lifted his beer and set it atop the flimsy cardboard.

How could I get this unlucky so many times in one day? First my brother, then Tommy, and now this asshole? “Are you kidding me?”

“I wouldn’t bother. We both know you have no sense of humor.”

All the good energy I’d felt walking in dropped right back out of me, and I slumped against the bar.

“Can you just let me have one drink in peace, please?”

Cory’s smirk faded, and he turned, focusing on the game. “Sure thing, boss.”

The bartender dropped off my drink and I took a long slow sip, licking my lips and savoring the mix of sour lime and grainy salt sparking along my tongue. I closed my eyes, appreciating the perfection of the flavor, but when I opened them, I spotted Cory out of the corner of my eye. He’d been watching me.

I was on the verge of taking my drink and moving down the bar. I didn’t care if I had to wedge myself between two strangers if it meant I got some space from him. But then I remembered what had happened that afternoon, and I stopped myself.

With just about every reserve of energy I had left, I turned toward him, watching him quickly glance my way as I did.

“Thank you for stepping in today. My brother has a tendencyto test limits, and I appreciate you helping to keep him from screwing this up.”

Cory didn’t look away from the game, he just picked up his beer and took a sip. “No problem, boss.”

Why did men have to be so difficult? I was trying to be civil and offer a thank you for thinking of someone besides himself for once.

“Please don’t call me that.”

“But it’s what you are. And you’re hell bent on everyone knowing it.”

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