Page 11 of The Player Penalty
The trailer feels cold and sterile, oddly giving it a strangely abandoned sensation.
“This place is amazing,” she says.
“It’s serviceable.” I fumble through the mini fridge, hoping to find something to drink. The crew usually stocks it for me, so the contents are a surprise. “You want some wine?” In a plastic bottle, no less. How bad could it be?
Samantha fiddles with the TV and turns on one of the satellite radio stations.
“How old are you?” I ask her, and she doesn’t hear me.
Samantha begins dancing and waving a finger at me to join her.
I check the earlier phone message instead.
Lily: I watched your race. You were great on the field, and I wanted you to know. I’m sorry it ended like that. I thought you would win. You’ll win the next time we play Mario Kart.
We race on tracks, not fields. Adorable.
Samantha saddles up to me and puts her arms around my neck.
My phone buzzes again. It’s Lily. I can sense it. “I’m sorry. It looks like my post-race meeting was moved, meaning it’s time for me to leave.”
She kisses my cheeks and lips. “Take me with. We’ll have fun on the way.”
I pull her arms off of me. “Next time, sweetheart. I need to go if I want to keep racing.”
She leaves after giving me her number in exchange for a promise to call.
Lily: It hurts to work so hard for something and then lose it. Drive safe and wear a seatbelt.
I drive professionally, and she’s reminding me to wear a seatbelt. I exchanged fun for text messages from a girl ten years younger than me. What the fuck am I thinking?
“Can you play now?” I ask as soon as she answers the phone.
“Julian. Aren’t you supposed to do a post-race inspection or review or something?”
“My car turned into an accordion. There’s nothing to inspect.”
“Oh, that’s right. I’m sorry.” It’s the second time she’s apologized for my accident, despite having nothing to do with it.
“I changed my mind. We’ll have a rematch tomorrow. I’m driving home. How long can you stay on the line with me?” The line goes dead. “Hello?”
“You want to talk to me?”
“Sure. Better you than Boone Rivers.”
She snorts. “Mr. Rivers is scary. Did you know he leaves the room every time he notices me?”
Boone doesn’t know what to do with her, so he leaves it to other people. He can’t give her one of his withering stares or biting comments. Lily is reserved, the sort of person who slowly warms to different people. Her presence is the key to Pete Webb staying on, which means Boone doesn’t know how to respond to her.
She’s the perfect weapon. She’s also my assistant now. Sort of.
“You scare him,” I say. “Let me call you back in five.”
After shoving two protein bars down my throat, I grab my overnight bag and search for my waiting car.
∞∞∞
“It was eight minutes,” I say as soon as she answers.
