Page 10 of Down & Dirty

Ronnie: You can’t replace enthusiasm for experience, so I’m doingmy best to take it all in. Each guy on our roster this year has their own way of doing things, and I’m happy to offer what I can while picking up tricks at the same time.

MotoMadness: Do you think Ellis is as prepared for the Supercross portion? Having only one Main Event, instead of the two moto, combined score he’s used to on the Motocross series— that’s a changeup that can throw some riders.

Ronnie: Listen, you’ll have to ask him about how he’s going to handle it. But we all know the ask of OTM this season, and we’re doing the work to make sure we all walk away at the top.

MotoMadness: One last question. Being the youngest addition to the team, and Ellis being the oldest, how has that relationship been? Are you finding common ground, or is it each man for himself?

Ronnie: Ellis is just one guy on the team, but no one can deny he brings a lot of experience. I’m open to learning and he’s been generous with his time. We’re all there for the same reason; to win. So, that’s what we’ll do.

Normally I loved the braaaap of bikes screaming around a course and the sight of mud flying off tires. But this track was the last place I wanted to be.

It wasn’t just the conversation with Ronnie the night before about “playing nice” with his fellow riders and their people— though that would have been plenty. I’d lost count of how many times I’d told my brother off for patronizing me. I knew my role, and I was damn good at my job. I didn’t need him acting like he was superior just because he’d been born a boy and had more chances to make it professionally in a sport we’d both been good at.

No, my reluctance had another source entirely, and it was that Cory Ellis was the cockiest asshat I’d ever met.

Considering who my brother was, that was saying something.

Cory had never made any mention of the way he’d nearlyshoved Ronnie off course in the last race. Which might have been because he didn’t realize what a dick move it had been—since it was his trademark to be a jerk—or he didn’t know it was Ronnie he’d given the shaft. In either case, it needled at me every time I saw him laughing and schmoozing with the team, as if he was some great hero and not just a bullheaded prick who only cared about himself.

There was always this glint in his eye, because everyone was buying his act and he knew it. The man swapped women every few months, parlayed his image to sell luxury goods out of reach for all but the top 1 percent of the population, and managed to spin the bullshit stunts he pulled in races from dangerous to awe-inspiring with a wink and a smile.

After that first team meeting, he’d been photographed out at the Ivy with some supermodel. Wearing a suit that probably cost more than the average American’s monthly rent, he’d had the audacity to look annoyed at the cameras. As if his rep hadn’t dropped the dime on their location in the first place. Unreal.

He knew he was handsome, with that chiseled jaw always covered in the perfect amount of scruff, and that auburn hair he left longer on the top so it would flop down on his forehead as soon as his helmet came off. I swear, the man probably had more styling products than meandknew how to use them better than I ever would.

Cory Ellis was nothing more than an overgrown child constantly seeking more attention, no matter who he had to railroad along the way. That he made millions at it when the rest of us had to fight for every opportunity made it impossible for me to like the man.

“Sky, you have to drop it,” Ronnie had said again that morning, swiping his hand over his face in exasperation. “The guy has a career and a following that are to be envied. I’d like what he’s got. And as my assistant, you should, too.”

“A pay bump would be great, bro. How much of a raise are we talking?”

He rolled his eyes at my sarcasm, but we both knew I had a point.

Ronnie kept the bulk of what he made, but him making more would trickle down to me, too. Since I took less of a cut than most of the agents in the business, he knew what I got wasn’t much. I did this job because he was my family and I loved him. And I’d promised my dad when he’d first asked me, saying he didn’t trust anyone else to do it. But even if I was in this for the right reasons, that didn’t mean it was always easy keeping my mouth shut, especially when I’d rather be building my own life for once.

In ninth grade my school got a new counselor, Mrs. Henry. She was this tall, skinny woman who always wore floral dresses and a smile as bright as the sun. A warmth emanated from her that every kid in class was drawn to, even me as a rough tomboy type who was headstrong even back then.

I watched how the kids she met with changed, how they laughed more and fought less. Some even became my friends. I never got in trouble, so I wasn’t sent to her office, but over the years Mrs. Henry became a fixture at that school, and in our lives, and I realized I wanted to be just like her. She wasn’t afraid of the “bad” kids or to talk about the hard stuff. She seemed to know the exact right way to meet those harsh teenage years with understanding and patience. And everyone at that school was better for it. That kind of work mattered, and that’s what I really wanted to be doing.

That was why I’d gone to school for psychology and social work. And I would get back to it. I swore to myself in the mirror every morning. Right after I sorted out how to get my brother on top of the motocross leader board while handling the fake niceties of his teammates, including the King of Small Talk himself.

“So, you’ve never been to Maine?” Cory asked Ronnie as they walked down the path after their practice runs. He’d been peppering my brother with questions the whole morning, as if he was genuinely curious.

Ronnie was all smiles as he shook his head. “Nope. Southwick is about as far east as I’ve been.”

Cory chuckled fondly. “You don’t know what you’re missing, man. The oysters. The lobster rolls. You haven’t lived?—”

He had to be joking. “We have plenty of seafood on the west coast,” I interjected from behind.

Both of them stopped short and looked at me. Ronnie was scowling but Cory appeared amused. Of course this guy would think he knew better. He wore his “older and wiser” attitude like he knew my brother couldn’t resist eating it up. And he couldn’t.

“And judging by you, sweet cheeks, I’d bet it’s served with just as much of our New England charm.”

As Ronnie laughed, the sound of my molars grinding filled my ears. This guy was an ass. Why didn’t my brother see that?

“Is that what this is?” I flicked my hand in the air. “Cause if so, I’ll spare myself the trip.”

Cory licked his lips. “Probably a good idea. Let your brother off the leash for once.”

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