One Track Mind (11 page)

Except for bittersweet ones of you. In my memory, I can still taste your mouth. Still feel your body so close to mine it made me crazy.

“—but,” he said, “Halesboro changed my life. It’s part of me. It’s fallen on hard times, and I don’t want it to fall on worse. After all, I’ve sunk a lot of money into the place. And I’ll sink more. I want it to prosper, not to wither up and die.”

“Prosper at the price of what?” she asked. “Its traditions? Its character? Everything it used to be?”

“We’ll talk about it when I’m there. Until then, just trust me.”
The darker side of his nature made him add, “Once upon a time you did. Or seemed to. I’ve got to go now. Take care, babe.”

When he hung up, his emotions simmered in conflict. How did he feel about her?

Sometimes his emotions seemed to change from minute to minute. They veered back and forth, barely under control. But again he promised himself that he’d get her out of his mind; it was just going to take more effort than he’d thought.

He glanced at his watch. It was true he had to leave. He had to meet Zoey Horning. She was the kind of woman he should be thinking about, not Lori. Hadn’t he learned his lesson? He should have. Lori had carved it into his heart, and it felt as if she’d done it with a piece of jagged glass.

A
WEEK LATER
, Liz and Lori sat in The Groove Café, having supper. Liz’s husband, Glen, was out of town for a real estate conference, their son was staying overnight with a friend, and Liz was relishing an evening of freedom—and gossipy chitchat.

“Kane’s been seeing more of that Zoey Horning,” Liz said. “I found a Charlotte society blog on the Internet. It even said they’d gone apartment-hunting together.”

Lori’s heart constricted and her stomach knotted. She despised herself for letting such turmoil sweep her and struggled to hide her feelings.

“Oh,” she said primly. “And did you find out who these Horning people are? If they might have something to do with Halesboro?”

“I am practically the queen of surfing the Internet,” Liz said with a grin. “Yes. Horning’s heir to the Horning Outlets Center empire. His only heir is Zoey. She’s got a Master’s of Business Administration from Harvard. Graduated magna cum laude.”

Lori swallowed hard.
Harvard? Magna cum laude? The heiress of a fortune? And a beautiful young woman, as well?
She remembered the photo of Kane and the striking brunette in the paper. Lori had a degree in education from UNC Wilmington, a very good school—but not nearly as famous as
Harvard. She might have once been princess of Halesboro, but Zoey was a
real
princess of both finance and society.

Lori swallowed again and asked, “What’s Horning Outlets Center?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. Discount malls. Big ones. Successful ones. All across the country. Upscale ones and ‘value-centered’ ones. Last year, Horning Outlets pulled in 132 million shoppers.”

The number made Lori feel dizzy. “You think they might put a mall here?”

“I’m thinking that the old mill buildings would be perfect for an enclosed mall. Cheaper than building one up from the ground. And it’d give Halesboro what it didn’t have before. An attraction
besides
the speedway. Maybe your friend Kane is putting together a smart deal. Maybe you really should trust him. On business, at least.”

Lori pushed her plate away, her sandwich only half-eaten. She heard the hidden warning in Liz’s words. Trust Kane to bring money into the town. Trust him with finance, but not her heart. Not when he was squiring around a woman like Zoey Horning.

“What about the rest of it?” Lori asked. “Those other properties? Do you think they tie in somehow with the Horning malls?”

“I have some theories,” said Liz. “But that’s all they are at this point. Didn’t Kane say he’d tell you more when the Cargill-Grosso team came here to test?”

“Yes. But—”

“Ask him straight out. Don’t let him dodge questions. You can do it. I know you can.”

Lori smiled wanly. “If he gets a Horning mall established here, what else might he set up? Come on, what’s your theory?”

“Only a theory,” Liz said with a shrug. “I always wanted to be a detective. But playing detective can lead to wild speculation. You’re better off getting facts from him instead of fantasies from me.”

Lori bent lower over the table to get closer to Liz. In a
whisper she asked, “You think he could put a bigger deal together than just getting Horning here?”

Liz tossed her head, her expression cynical. “His whole
job
is putting deals together, sugar. He handles people worth millions—like Kent Grosso. And even richer—Roman McCandless.”

Lori said nothing, only wondered how a giant mall would affect Halesboro. Could it succeed? Could it help draw people to the speedway? If it did succeed, would it radically change the town?”

Liz studied her friend’s face. “Maybe Kane could pull off a huge deal. Your Aunt Aileen always said he was smart. He was
your
boyfriend. Just how smart do you think he is?”

Lori shrugged to signal she didn’t know the answer. But she thought,
He’s probably way too smart for me. He’s not only got the speedway and me in his power. He might have the whole future of Halesboro under his control.

And, she wondered, what did he want from Halesboro, the town that had been so cruel to him? Did he want to change it forever, wipe out what it had once been and turn it into an entity that owed him everything, and where everyone would have to scrape and bow to him?

“Don’t look so pensive,” Liz said. “You’ve sold the track. You’re going to be in the clear. I might sell some expensive property. And if I do, you know what? Glen and I might make a decent living, finally. If Halesboro changes? Terrific. Because either it does or it dies a long, slow death. And so does your father’s speedway. You can look on Kane as a hero or a villain. It’s your choice.”

And what, wondered Lori, if he’s both a hero and a villain? What then?

A
T LAST IT WAS
the week of the Fourth of July. Lori felt drowned in details—she had to increase security at the speedway, have the shrubs around the speedway tended, rent a tent in case of rain, rent picnic tables and benches, contract
to have party lights hung, negotiate with the fireworks display designer, scrounge prizes for a ticket stub drawing, confirm the musicians, order small floral centerpieces.

The barbecue itself brought on a deluge of decisions. Kane didn’t want a posh catered affair that would seem uncomfortably formal. “Down-home and friendly and Southern,” he said.

Lori checked out restaurants in the region that prepared and served food for special occasions. She finally settled on This Little Piggy Bar-B-Que in Asheville, which didn’t sound elegant, but was revered by worshippers of spare ribs. She ordered red, white and blue paper plates, cups and napkins, even toothpicks. The minutiae of it all was staggering.

Kane had sunk even more time and money into the track. The lights were repaired, the scoreboard replaced, the track more expertly repaired until it could be resurfaced. He had people working to modernize pit road, and the parking lot and infield had been cleaned up. The expenditure must have come at a mind-boggling price—and there was more work to come.

But the advanced ticket sales amazed her. Kane was right: Kent and Dean Grosso attracted crowds, and both men were bringing the cars they’d driven to win the NASCAR Sprint Cup championship. Oh, yes, there was plenty to draw in not only NASCAR devotees, but racing fans in general.

By the time the Cargill-Grosso Racing team hauler and motor home pulled in on the morning of the first, Lori’s heart beat like a jackhammer, and her stomach danced nervously. Would everything work out? What had she forgotten? What might go wrong?

Dean Grosso remembered Lori and gave her a hug. So did his wife, the down-to-earth Patsy. Patsy wore crisply pressed jeans and a pale blue polo shirt that complemented her eyes. She seemed as unaffected and friendly as ever, but her face looked thinner and her expression strained.

Under Dean’s affability, Lori could see a change in him, a sort of anxiety, and she knew what troubled the couple. Someone had kidnapped their infant daughter Gina—three
decades ago. Later, authorities confirmed that baby Gina had died. Dean and Patsy struggled to accept the tragedy and soldier on. But if they ever talked about their lost child, it wasn’t to outsiders. Many people on the NASCAR circuit didn’t even know of the kidnapping.

Recently, persistent rumors arose that Gina was
not
dead, but living somewhere under a different name, probably not knowing her true parentage. Now Dean and Patsy hoped to find her—but if they didn’t? It would be like ripping open a wound that never really healed, like losing their daughter a second time.

Lori put her hand on Patsy’s shoulder. “I heard the stories about Gina. I hope with all my heart that you find her and can reunite.”

Patsy said softly, “Thank you.” But clearly she didn’t want to talk about Gina. “Oh,” she said, “there’s Kent. I have something I forgot to tell him. Excuse me…”

And then she was gone. Lori, saddened, turned to Dean. “I’m sorry,” she told him, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ll apologize to her.”

Dean chucked her under her chin. “No. She understands. People are just trying to be kind. They feel compelled to say something. Otherwise, it’s like trying to ignore the elephant in the room. That’s one of the reasons I was glad to get involved with Halesboro again. It gives me less time to think—and worry. Patsy, too. This is one of her favorite tracks.”

“It’s very generous of you to support it,” Lori said.

Dean tried to smile, but his dark eyes stayed serious. “I remember your daddy well. And you, such a little thing with so much energy. But I’m doing it for Kane, too. He’s worked hard on our behalf. A good man, Kane. He’ll be along in another hour or so. Had to drop a friend off at the airport.”

“Oh,” Lori said, trying to disguise the sudden emotion which shook her. She knew who that “friend” must be. Zoey Horning.

Liz, now enthralled by the Charlotte gossip blog, had said that Zoey was flying back to Missouri today to help her
parents celebrate their anniversary. Lori imagined Kane taking the girl in his arms and kissing her goodbye. She knew what his lips tasted like. She knew how his kisses could intoxicate.

She couldn’t wait for him to arrive, and paradoxically, she wished he wouldn’t come at all. And she tried hard not to think of his mouth on the lush ripeness of Zoey Horning’s.

F
IFTY-EIGHT MINUTES LATER
, a new silver-colored sedan pulled up in the parking lot, and Kane got out, wearing low-slung jeans, a red shirt open at the collar, black sunglasses, and black cowboy boots.

Lori tried to rip her gaze away and concentrate on spotting the party supply truck, which was late. But he’d caught her looking and flashed her a devilish grin. He walked up to her and took off his sunglasses. The breeze ruffled his dark hair so that for a moment, he almost resembled the tousle-haired boy he’d once been.

What right did he have to be so handsome, so well-built and self-possessed? She thought of her ex-husband, Scott. The same age as Kane, he now had a potbelly, a receding hairline and bifocals. The gene pool was neither fair nor democratic.

“Lori,” Kane said softly. “How’s it going?”

“I guess we’ll see tonight,” she tossed back. “What happened to the sports car? Or is this your second car?”

“I traded in the other one. The new one’s an American-made sedan. It seemed more appropriate. But I’ve leased a different sports car. It tends to impress clients.”

He studied her face. “You look radiant. Fresh and natural. I like it when your freckles show. You don’t even have on any lipstick.”

“You do,” she said, staring coolly at his cheek. It bore the jewel-red print of a mouth.

“Oops,” he said, “thought I got it all off.” He pulled out a handkerchief. “Show me where it is. I can’t see.”

Reluctantly she raised her hand and touched her index finger to his face, just below his right cheekbone. And what
amazing cheekbones he had. She’d loved them once. Quickly she snatched her finger back and pressed her lips tightly together. If she had no lipstick on, it was because she’d chewed it off from nervousness.

He smiled as he wiped his face. “Did I get it off?”

“Not quite,” she said, her tone clipped.

He handed her the kerchief. “Get it for me. You can see it.”

She felt resentful and embarrassed, but she scrubbed at his cheek hard, harder than she had to. She’d wiped lipstick off him before. But back then it had been hers.

“Here,” she said, tossing the cloth back to him. “I suppose that kissy-print is from Zoey Horning.”

He arched a brow and allowed himself a one-cornered smile. “You know Zoey?”

She could have bitten off her tongue. “No. It’s just that the two of you’ve been mentioned a lot lately in the Charlotte gossip blogs.”

His expression changed to one of disbelief. “You
read
that garbage? You used to be so picky about what you read.”

“
I
don’t read it,” she countered defensively. “Liz does. People around here take an interest in you, now that you’ve come back. You know what a small town’s like.”

“Indeed, I do.” His voice was silky. “That’s why I live in the city.”

She ached to ask him if the rumors of his romance were true, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Go ahead and go inside. You don’t want to miss the testing, do you?”

“Of course not. That’s why I’m here early. You coming in, too? See how your former track does under Kent’s tires?”

“No thanks. I’m watching for a truck.”

“A truck of what?” he said, a teasing look in his brown eyes.

She remembered that look well, and it came close to discombobulating her. “Festive paper dinnerware with matching festive paper napkins and gloriously tasteful balloons. The most glamorous plastic knives and forks.”