Page 74 of The Older Brother
“I’m showing you off. And I’m giving you something I think you need. Do you trust me?”
She shakes her head, but her mouth says, “Yes.”
“You’re so goddamn cute. Now come on, you’ve got time for a two-minute lesson.”
Once we get back to the car, I walk her through the ins and outs of the race. It’s a straight line, a little more than a quarter mile, and there’s plenty of room to slow down at the finish line. But the tricky part for her will be working the paddle shifters. She’s used to automatic, and my car works both ways by design—mydesign.
“It’s going to sound strange, and you won’t think it’s ready, but once you punch the gas, start counting to three. Every time you hit three, shift.”
“How do you know it will be on time?” Her gaze is darting all around the dashboard. I tap on the odometer to focus her.
“This is all you need to worry about. Don’t let it get too high,” I say.
“Sure. Yeah, no problem. Don’t let that clock-looking thing get too high. Drive straight. And go fast. No problem.” She’s kidding, but I won’t let her psyche herself out.
“Basically, yeah. You got this. Now buckle up and go get in line behind that yellow Dodge.” I point to the cars getting ready at the spot where we drove in, then nudge her knee inside so I can close the door. She holds it open with a stiff arm, though, and glares up at me with deer-in-headlight eyes.
“You’re not coming with me?”
I lean down and lift her chin, pressing my lips to hers.
“I’ll come with you later. Right now, I want to watch.”
I leave her stunned with the faint smile and the ball of nerves in her belly. Swimming has become so easy for her, it’s lost the thrill. If she’s going to have to endure it for four more years, she needs to find the joy in competing for herself again. Out here is as good a place as any.
I step away, leaving her with her own thoughts, forcing her to focus as she pulls out onto the strip and coasts to the starting line, where she flips a U and gets in line.
“That’s quite a woman you’ve got there,” a guy who looks about my age says as he pulls two beers out of a cooler in his trunk. He hands me one, and we both pop the caps off, then toast in the air.
“She sure is.”
I kick back with my new friend, Doug, both of our feet crossed as we lean against the hood of his Chevy Malibu. We pass time talking about his goals for his engine, and before Saylor’s race starts, I give him one of my cards. The second the lights on 007 flash down the straightaway, I’m done pitching my business. Now, I’m simply a fan.
The light goes from red to yellow, then green, and Saylor squeals the tires at the start, smoke billowing from my Camaro’s backend as she cuts down the pavement neck and neck with the Toyota Supra racing her. The crowd is roaring as they would for any driver, but it feels especially loud for her. Maybe I’m projecting, or maybe it’s the fact that she’s come halfway and is still right in the guy’s sightline. I hear the slight change in my engine as she shifts, and she reaches the final gear right on time. Nothing left but to hold her steady. And when she ends up losing by half a car length, I toss the rest of my beer and leap into the roadway like a fucking lunatic before sprinting to her and helping her stand on her shaking legs.
“I almost fucking won!” Her smile beams, and her eyes are full of honey and light.
Nothing left for me to do but tip her back in my arms and kiss her in front of hundreds of people. And that’s exactly what I do.
Chapter 24
Our house is eerily quiet.My mom is downtown at a dinner with investors, along with David and a few team members. Of course, knowing what Inowknow, I question whether there’s an investment group at all. Or team members. Or fuck . . . dinner.
I’m not shocked by the affair. I’ve had my suspicions over the years. In a way, it makes my mom feel more human. I’ve always resented the way she put her career before everything—and everyone—else. To know that there was more to the late nights beyond a good performance review? It doesn’t feel great, but I can understand it.
Desire.
Infatuation.
Hell, maybe she loved David. Orloveshim still. Love can make a person stupid.
But David’s married again. And his wife, Lindsey, is young. And honestly? She’s hot as hell. My mom is a beautiful woman, a classy and mature woman in her mid-forties. I’ve seen Lindsey prance around the Anderson home in a thong bikini, and I just don’t know that David is deep enough to desire a woman’s mindover a body like that. I guess I have no real reason to believe he’s not enjoying the best of both worlds, however.
My phone buzzes on my bathroom counter with a message from Rowan letting me know he’s parked outside. He brought me home early this morning, and I spent most of the day sleeping since I get so little when I stay with him. I’m a bit giddy now, even though I saw him only hours ago. There’s something about the anticipation of him picking me up for a date.
I give my hair one last check. The curls are piled high in a ponytail near the crown of my head. I wanted to feel older, perhaps. More mature, and not at all like the little girl my dad left behind. Something about an up-do has always made me feel empowered. I’m not ignorant of the fact that it makes me look a lot like my mom, either. Our relationship may be a complicated mess, but I will never discount the strength my mom can project.
I bought this black dress to wear for my graduation. It’s a short swing dress that grazes my upper thighs, and the satiny bodice hugs me so tight that it’s hard to take a full breath without feeling like the zipper in the back is going to bust. I like that it’s sleeveless, though, and paired with my black heels, it gives the illusion that I’m six feet tall. I want to look down on people tonight, on my father. Fair or not, I’m hurt. And I want him to know that.
