Page 17 of Call it Reckless

Ifinished cleaning up the kitchen after Reid’s abrupt departure. What was that all about anyway? One minute, I thought we were starting over, and the next, he bolted.

“It doesn’t matter,” I mumbled to myself. He was likely upset after I brought up his dead wife. God. What an insensitive dolt I was. No wonder he left.

The doorbell rang. I hated that my heart skipped a beat as I headed to the door, happy to have a chance to apologize for making him uncomfortable. I needed all the friends I could make in this town.

“I see you found my doorbell for a change…” The words died on my lips as I saw who was standing there. It wasn’t Reid.

“I know living in New York fostered a few unsavory habits, but I assure you, I’ve always known how to ring a doorbell,” the woman standing there said.

My disappointment that it wasn’t Reid quickly changed. “Paige! What are you doing here? You weren’t supposed to get here for another week.”

Her hands flew to her hips as she smacked her gum. “I couldn’t stand that you were here checking things out and I wasn’t. So, I canceled my vacay plans, packed my bags, and jumped in the car. I don’t care if I have to crash on your couch, but I couldn’t wait another minute.”

Laughing, I pulled her in for a big hug, which was enthusiastically returned. “I’m so glad you did. Cam did an amazing job getting everything ready. Your room in the guest house is ready for you as long as you need it.”

“Thank God. I’m exhausted. I’ve been on the road since five o’clock this morning. I was starting to think you had led me to bumfuck nowhere. I’ve never seen so many hills, so many trees,”—she paused to wink—“and so few designer shoes. I sure ain’t in the city anymore.”

Her comment made me laugh again. Somehow having my best friend and her bright spirit here made me believe more than ever that everything was going to work out.

“You are one of a kind, for sure. And together, we’re going to rock this new business,” I assured her.

“You know it.”

I’d met Paige a few years earlier at a charity event. She had recently finished a project as the key hairstylist for a film that had just wrapped in New York City. The woman was a genius with both hair and makeup, and her name was often requested by directors and production designers. She’d made a good living and met many A-list actors while traveling to some amazing places to work.

But her real dream was to own her own shop someday. Despite how talented she was, the cost of starting up her own business was out of reach. We used to joke about how we could match our skills and then came up with the idea of a mechanic shop that served everyone but mostly catered to women who hated the experience of bringing a car in for an oil change. We thought it would be great if they could do something for themselves while they waited, like a blowout or a manicure—something they’d do, anyway. This would appeal to their multitasking sensibilities.

It was something we’d always talked about over drinks. A pipe dream. A joke.

Until it wasn’t.

After my accident, I knew I didn’t want to return to work for my dad’s team. The team was exceptionally supportive and held my job for me, knowing the sponsors would find a new driver. But with Daddy gone, it wouldn’t be the same. My spark was gone.

While I was recovering, Paige had taken three weeks between jobs to stay with me, driving me to therapy appointments and taking care of other things that I couldn’t yet do for myself. She was the first person to whom I confessed that I wasn’t sure I wanted to return to the racing circuit.

The old joke about merging our talents resurfaced.

It seemed providential when I discovered the old garage property had gone up for sale in Sterling Mill. I wasn’t sure Paige would want to leave the city, but she jumped at the chance for something new and different.

“I gotta say, it is bea-u-tiful out here.” She peered around, taking in the green fields across the street where the sinking sun was showing off spectacular pink and orange shades, like a sky-size sherbet float.

She smoothed her hands over her white silk blouse and dark blue designer jeans. She didn’t look like she’d spent hours in a car. With her white Keds and cute blue and white bolero-style jacket and artful makeup, she looked more like she stepped out of a fashion magazine. She was beautiful and always had the agents she worked around asking her for her contact info for modeling gigs. But she preferred her life outside of a camera lens.

“Good to know you’re already on the prowl.” I laughed and grabbed the one suitcase sitting next to her, knowing there were probably at least five more in her car, and pulled her inside my house.

“I’m so glad you’re here. Have you eaten?”

“Yeah. I got into town about an hour ago. I was hungry, so I decided to explore what this town has to offer before I surprised you. I’ve already found my new favorite hangout. I never thought a diner would be a place I’d eat in, but damn, girl, it’s got excellent coffee, even better food, and a revolving door of some damn fine-looking men.”

She grinned and winked at me. “I’ve already had three give me their number and an offer to help me move, and that wasafterthey held a door open for me. I never knew being called ‘ma’am’ could sound so sexy, but it turns out, when it’s combined with a handsome smileandbig muscles, it’s actually quite charming.”

I laughed. Leave it to Paige to already be creating a spotlight of attention from men. She was the complete package—beautiful, graceful, talented, and wicked smart. Most men underestimated her, too caught up in her looks to see past them. They treated her like arm candy rather than the intelligent woman she was, and when she let them know in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t going to put up with their chauvinistic ways, they thought she was a cold-hearted bitch. She was anything but if you truly got to know her. I considered myself fortunate that I did.

In many ways, Paige and I were about as different as the colors red and blue, but somehow, we found our own shade of purple that worked perfectly for each of us. While I rarely bothered with makeup or fashion, she was a former Miss Teen USA runner-up from New York. While I loved finite details, she was more about the big picture. She loved the social scene and attention, while I preferred to hang out with just a few close friends.

But years ago, when we first met at a charity event, both new in our respective fields, we hit it off. We brought out the best in each other, and now, we were combining our talents.

“I’m so glad you’re here. It’s all starting to feel real now.”

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