Page 5 of Be Still My Racing Heart
“If the goal is to get pro athletes to mentor kids, what sport do you play that warrants you being here?” I ask.
“Would you believe me if I said badminton? It is an Olympic sport.” Blake makes her comment with such a deadpan expression, I can’t tell if she’s joking or not.
I shrug. “I would have guessed volleyball with your height.” She’s got the lean, muscular build yet distinctly feminine physique for it. Trust me, I noticed. However, I keep that thought to myself. “Would you believe that I personally know several elite cornhole players that are going to the world championships? It’s not an Olympic sport, but it’s supposed to be within the next ten years. I’d believe anything at this point.”
Her giggle at my comment sounds like chimes dancing in the wind and makes the skin on my arm pimple. This woman has me enthralled in a way no other woman has before, and she’s done it faster than I can go from zero to sixty. However, two things stop me from asking her out like I want to. One, she’s my best friend’s sister, and he’s gone out of his way to keep us from meeting. I have to wonder why. Is it because of her, or because of me? Despite my desire to taunt Teague by dating his sister, ultimately, I have too much respect for him to do that behind his back. Two, Blake’s going to be my boss eventually, and that could make things sticky down the road. The little imp on my shoulder murmurs in my ear,“She’s not your boss—yet.”
Blake opens the auto shop doors, and a 1966 Mustang hard-top, jacked up on stands, greets me. It has seen better days. “Not all of the volunteers at Play It Forward are athletes, Ryder. There are the day-to-day volunteers who keep this place operational. The athletes play a major role and have two options in how they donate their time because schedules can be erratic. They can either do the Big Brother/Big Sister thing or they can show up when they can and engage with the youth. The rest of us fill in where we’re needed. If there’s anything that I know as a Morrison, it’s business and cars, so the auto shop is where I spend most of my time with the kids. I’m working with a few of them to restore this car.”
I run my hand over the rusted body and let the soul of the car flow through me. “Manual four-speed transmission, rear-wheel drive, two-door coupe with a V8 engine. This is a Shelby GT-350H with 306 horsepower. They don’t make muscle cars like this anymore. Even in this condition, it would cost a pretty penny. Man, it’s been almost 60 years since this car came out, and it’s as sexy today as it was back then—rust bucket and all.”
“It’s always been my dream to own one,” Blake says with a dreamy look on her face. “Zero to sixty in under seven seconds. You don’t even need a track to feel the power at your fingertips, even though that’s what it was designed for. Back in the day, anyone who wanted to race could—long stretches of road with nothing to stop you from flying. Driving a car like this is as close to Heaven as one can get on Earth.”
Blake
“You’reabillionaire,Blake.You could buy ten of these cars without batting an eye,” Ryder blurts out. “You’d need a garage larger than your house, but for babies as sweet as this one, it would be worth it.”
I motion for us to leave because Ryder still has to complete the necessary paperwork and choose which program he wants to pursue. I’m guessing he’ll opt for the one that requires the least commitment and responsibility.
“I’m not the billionaire, Ryder. My father is. While he could—and would—buy me the car if I asked him to, I’d prefer to earn my way and invest myself in this project with the kids. I enjoy having a sense of accomplishment and achieving a goal, even if it requires patience and perseverance. I haven’t accepted a dime from him or my mother since graduating college, and I paid for this fixer-upper out of my own pocket. Everything in my house was bought with money I earned, not what was handed to me.”
The few men I’ve dated were more interested in the bank account theythoughtI had and not in the one Iactuallyhad. It makes finding true love a whole lot harder when you end up second-guessing everyone’s motives for wanting to get to know you.
“I can respect that,” Ryder says as he waits for me to close the door. Keeping pace with me as we head back to the main facility, he adds, “But wanting to be recognized for your achievements and not just your name requires twice the effort when the name carries weight. You’re fortunate that Morrison stands for something of value. It could be worse. You could be a Stone, which is synonymous with being a criminal. Count your blessings, Blake. You may not be a billionaire now, but you are the heiress to your father’s empire. You won’t be living in your father’s shadow for long, and you’ll be in a position to truly make a difference.”
I huff. “I make a difference now. Giving time is equally important as giving money.”
He raises his hands to placate my growing irritation. “I meant that you’ll be able to make a greater impact. As much as I admire your father and value the opportunity that he provided me, Morrison Motors isn’t recognized for its charitable contributions—unless you consider the end-of-year bonuses.”
He’s right, and I loathe to admit it. “Honestly, I don’t want the job, but it’s what has been expected of me since Teague chose to give it all up. I wonder if I had been born with different chromosomes, would I be racing under Morrison Motors right alongside my brother? For some reason, my dad doesn’t believe the track is any place for a woman.”
Much to Ryder’s credit, deep lines form on his forehead, and the corners of his mouth pull downward. “Women race in NASCAR, especially since the inception of the Drive for Diversity program over 20 years ago. Assuming you can handle a vehicle, why would your father have a problem with it?”
“None of those women are his baby girl. At least, that’s the excuse he’s given me over the years. Ironically, it’s his fault I love the sport in the first place. He enrolled Teague and me in karting lessons when we were little, and I won my first trophy at seven. But once it shifted from karting to cars, it was game over. Kaput!”
As the main building looms closer, Ryder slows our pace to continue our littletête-à-tête.Much to my surprise, he’s a good listener and seems to be on my side. Besides my mom and my brother, none of my friends ever understood my need for freedom. “So, get back in the game and drive for another team, Blake. You haven’t taken a penny from your father since you graduated, and you’re a grown woman who can make her own choices. Show him that you have what it takes to follow your dreams. You aren’t taking over the company tomorrow, are you?”
“If I race, I’ll never take over the company. When I was 16, my father threatened that if I got behind the wheel, I’d lose everything. That’s part of the problem. Like you, Teague wants to become the next Morgan Shepherd and race until he’s 77. He doesn’t want to take over Morrison Motors if it means giving up racing, as I’m sure you are aware. The reality is that, as a woman, I wouldn’t have nearly as long of a career. I want to get married and have kids one day, and driving while pregnant isn’t a good combination.”
Ryder shakes his head as he pauses to gaze at the youth playing various sports with several professional athletes and other volunteers. “That would be sacrificing one dream for another when you can have both. Have you always worked for your father? Are you dependent on him for a job?”
I chuckle. “No, I’m not dependent on him for a job, and I don’t technically work for my fatheryet. I’m just getting my feet wet and learning the ropes until the end of the racing season. I’m working remotely while I finish tying up loose ends with the company that currently employs me. Why do you ask?”
With a slight shrug of his shoulder and an adorable smirk, he says, “There are some regional short-track races you can enter. Sometimes Teague and I race in those to keep our skills sharp during the off-season or when there’s a gap in the schedule. You can prove to your father that you are as capable on the track as you are in the boardroom.”
It’s sweet that he wants to help me succeed, and certainly not what I expected him to do. “I could stand to get in a few laps. You know, work out the kinks.” I tilt my head from side to side to crack my neck, not anticipating the loud pop that comes from doing so. “Did you hear that? Kinks!”
Cringing at the noise and massaging his neck as if he’s feeling sympathy pains, he says, “That sounded like it hurt.”
I hold the door open and wave my hand to usher him inside. “It wasn’t too bad, but what will hurt is the paperwork and background check we need to complete. Are you ready?”
“Areyou?” he retorts. “You know about my past. Is that going to send up any red flags?”
“The Play It Forward Director, Milo, has already been informed. As long as there isn’t anything else that we don’t know about, you should be good to go. You’ve made great strides in turning your life around, and that’s precisely the kind of example we want these kids to see. We want them to understand that they can triumph over adversity. You’re practically a poster child for this organization.”
I sit in the lobby, waiting for Ryder to emerge from Louise’s office. He’s been in there for almost an hour for paperwork that should have taken no more than half that time. Chances are, Louise is regaling him with stories of her days as an Olympic swimmer in the 70s, or she’s telling him all about her most recent trip to the doctor. Either way, Ryder likely needs to be rescued.
As I’m about to knock on the door, I notice Trevor running down the hall straight toward me. I raise my hands in the air to shield myself from the impending collision. “Whoa! Slow down, Trevor. Where’s the fire? Is there an emergency or something?”
