Page 7 of Too Close To Call

“Damn right you can. We don’t have clearance to drive today, but you’re going to be blown away when you see what you’re driving. Now, let’s get down to business.”

* * *

Two hours later and I’m ready to go. As I’m leaving the track, Naomi, my ex-publicist, and Hugo, my ex-manager, just happen to be waiting for me. Yeah, I believe that. Technically, I gave them the boot when I decided to leave racing, but they just won’t give up on the possibility of me returning to it. For the next hour, they try pushing an agenda on me that isn’t wanted or needed.

Naomi finally picks up on my frustration, stops talking, and taps her pencil on the table. Hugo keys in and is coming up with a different strategy to get me to do what they want.

I scrub a hand through my hair. “No. Just stop. I didn’t call either one of you because this isn’t me coming out of retirement. And this isn’t me wanting to be in the spotlight. I’m driving to raise money for the pediatric cancer hospital. That’s where the spotlight should be.”

Naomi and Hugo look at each other and Hugo fidgets with his collar.

“Fine, but there’s one more thing,” Naomi says.

I stare at her and already I know the answer. No. “What’s that?”

Hugo takes over and goes on to explain, “The event ends with a charity ball. Dale will be recognized and there’s going to be a wing at the hospital named for him.”

I nod. “That’s wonderful. He would be very proud to be the reason that much money is raised.”

There they go, looking at each other again. Naomi sits up straighter in the chair and says, “As Dale’s representative, we think you should escort Tori to the ball.”

I work to keep my butt in the seat when all I want to do is rush out of the room. Instead I reply with the one word I’d previously predicted, “No.”

Hugo lets my refusal go unnoticed. “Case, Dale thought of you as a son. He loved you and was so proud of you. You and Tori need to present a united front in his honor. He would want that.”

Would he? He didn’t want me to marry his daughter. Tori herself said she didn’t want or need me in her life. She made that perfectly clear. “No.”

Then Naomi pulls out the big guns. “It’s going to be hard for her that night. She needs someone to lean on. You two used to be close.”

They have no idea that I’m the last person Tori would want to lean on. The very last. “She has a support system. She won’t be alone. Besides, I’m not going to the closing event. I’m leaving to go back home right after the race. If that’s all, I really need to check in at the hotel. I have an early practice time in the morning.”

“Case, just think about it, okay?” Naomi can’t accept my final answer.

“There’s nothing to think about. Just leave it alone.”

She tosses her pencil to the table and concedes. “Fine. I’ll email you your schedule.”

“No. No schedules. No interviews. I’m just here to race.” I’m calling this interrogation over.

I push up and head to the door, but Naomi stops me when she points out, “You may be here to only race, but the charity expects you to shine a light on the hospital. The board has scheduled interviews for every driver. There’s also hospital visits with patients and photo ops. It’s a big deal to racing fans that you’re here, Case.”

Damn, I should have read the paperwork more closely. It’s not that I can’t do interviews. I can, but I don’t want to talk about Dale or how he died. “Fine. Send me the schedule, but Dale’s death is off-limits. We’re not here to bring that back up.”

Before I go to the hotel, I stop by what was at one time my favorite place to grab a bite. Dale introduced me to Nicky’s Place and we’d eat there about twice a week. The barbeque is hickory smoked and drenched in a spicy vinegar-based sauce, and the ribs are fall-off-the-bone good.

I park and look up at the building. It brings back memories that make me smile. Good times with Dale and Tori. Our first official date was at Nicky’s Place. Of course, nobody knew it was a date at the time. They were so used to seeing us together, nobody thought anything about it. We were anonymous in plain sight.

The smoky scent is the first thing that hits me as I walk in the door. I glance toward the counter and don’t recognize anyone that’s working. Jim and Nick were older; maybe they retired and sold the place.

I pull my cap lower when I see a waitress approaching. “Table for one?” she asks.

I start to get it to go, but I don’t want to go to the hotel yet. “Yeah, just one.”

She pulls a menu from a box by the hostess stand and I follow her to a booth in the back. I sit down and she places the menu before me. I can feel her stare.

“You’re Case Murphy, aren’t you?”

“I am,” I reply, but keep my eyes on the menu. I know that tone of voice and I’m not interested.

---