Racing Outside the Line: A Love Story at 190 Mph (39 page)

"Lex, they want to do an interview with Seth to broadcast during the pre-race show. He asked me to come get you. He wants you there with him. They won’t be talking to you, but you may be on camera." Large angry birds suddenly shot down into my stomach to wreak havoc on my nerves. I nodded before allowing Chelsea to pull my from the dinette table where we had been chatting.

"I’ll stay here and watch you on the TV," she smiled encouragingly, "good luck." She gave me a quick hug, and I followed Desmond out the door and down to "Kenny." I had no idea what to expect, no clue where we were going as we weaved through endless crowds of people. I had never seen so many people in one location all looking around at everything. They looked at me and at Desmond, but neither of us was wearing a team shirt, so they quickly lost interest. When we pulled up to the infield studio amidst a large gathering of fans, I swear I thought I was going to throw up. Desmond showed a guard his badge and said a few things to him before pulling me by the hand up a flight of stairs and into the studio. There seemed to be people scurrying around everywhere, but no one was paying any attention to us. I was pretty thankful for that since I didn’t want any witnesses to my inability to hold down my breakfast, if it should come to that.

Desmond kept patting my back as he pushed me past a bunch of people. When we slowed our pace I looked back at Desmond questioningly. Where was Seth? He lifted his chin in the direction of the wall of glass windows behind the broadcaster’s desk that revealed the decently sized cheering crowd gathered outside.

"Mrs. Keller?" I turned to see an attractive blonde woman appear virtually out of nowhere. She was wearing a yellow polo shirt with the station’s logo on it and black pants. "I’m Stephanie, the producer. Mr. Keller is on his way in. We’ll put some makeup on the two of you before sitting you down for the interview." She turned to speak to a young man who had been trailing behind her as she came up to us.

I turned back to Desmond and widened my eyes in an attempt to express my nervousness over this whole situation. He leaned forward and whispered in my ear, "Get used to it, sis, you’re a driver’s wife now." He laughed sadistically as he rubbed my upper back like he had done when I was a little girl and couldn’t sleep.

"Mrs. Keller, can I get you something to drink?" I shook my head absentmindedly as the birds in my stomach began to get really angry. Okay, national television. I should have worn something different, something not quite so slutty, something nicer looking, maybe I should be wearing boots. "Ah, here he is," I heard the producer say and looked toward the door in time to see Seth notice me.

I know people like to overuse the whole, "and his face lit up at the sight of her" description, but really, it’s the only means I have of explaining his expression. I very nearly looked around the room to see what had caused his reaction, because surely it couldn’t just be me, but his eyes demanded my complete focus, and I couldn’t have looked away even if I had wanted to. His long sexy legs brought him to my side quickly, and the angry birds flew right out of me when he pulled me into his arms.

"I missed you, love. Did you miss me?" My heart jumped into my throat. It had been what, like three hours since we had been in each other’s arms, and here I was breathless to see him again. I was starting to make
myself
nauseous over our sickeningly sweet feelings for each other. Okay, that’s a lie, I was
loving
it!

"Mmm, well, if you must know, I was happy to be rid of you," I smiled a ridiculous grin through my whole silly lie.

He let his lips touch my earlobe in a clear attempt to remind me of how much of a lie my previous statement was. "I’ll have to remind you of my value later tonight."

The heat that rushed to my face was embarrassing. When Seth came to my side he had obviously brought several pairs of eyes with him, and all of them were now observing the bright red blush that I knew was settling across my face. Cowardly, I hid my face against his chest as he wrapped his arms firmly around me.

"Mr. and Mrs. Keller, please come this way, Brant will get a small amount of makeup on you for the cameras then we can get started."

The next twenty minutes were spent in makeup, then Desmond briefing Seth on the topics they were approved to discuss, and finally we were seated on a comfortable black leather couch across from Bert Bennetton, one of the main race commentators for the station.

It actually wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be. He asked Seth some questions about his car for today’s race and about a sponsor’s charity event that he would be participating in. I listened, hearing the details about Seth’s commitments for the first time. I was consumed with thoughts about Seth’s schedule until he started to ask questions about the fight after qualifying the previous week.

"Last week you refused to comment on the fight between you and your PR manager, Desmond Winston, but everyone’s incredibly curious about that incident. Are you willing to give us the inside story on this now?"

Seth smiled and draped his arm across the back of the couch while his hand affectionately caressed my arm. It was a motion I didn’t even think he was aware of.

"Well, it’s really
her
fault," he looked over at me. His massively expressive eyes made my carefully composed face melt into a wide grin.

He paused long enough to draw a response from Bert, "Really?" he looked at me, "and how is it your fault?"

I was dumbstruck. For a moment, I swear I could feel the weight of millions of eyes upon me as I stared wide-eyed at Bert. Finally, I gathered the wherewithal to offer some sort of explanation. "Desmond is my brother?" I said stupidly staring blankly at Bert. "Uh, he found out that Seth and I had been seeing each other and was… a little less than pleased, I guess you could say." I tried to give a little laugh, but my nervousness prevented anything further than a small huff. "He’s been trying to keep me away from Seth and Seth away from me for…" I paused trying to do the math in my head.

"Since I was nineteen-years old," Seth stared into my eyes. Here I was ridiculously nervous, and he was smiling with perfect comfort and ease. That just didn’t seem right. He should be as uncomfortable as I was, the brat. I didn’t know I would actually be answering questions here, and I felt as though I was sounded like a total moron. I didn’t want to be known as that moron married to the Greek God of racing.

"I successfully avoided her for four years," he explained looking back at Bert. "I convinced myself she was better off without me, but when she graduated from college and came home, I was a goner," he shook his head and chuckled. "I was so sure that I was over her." He turned to look lovingly back into my eyes, "I was so stupid," he said to me. I smiled warmly into his eyes and patted his knee.

"So, your PR manager punches you, you have a very
public
breakup with your ex-fiancé, then run off to a private island and marry the woman you’ve always loved?"

"Uh, pretty much. I mean, I knew Alexis was
it
for me, and I couldn’t handle the thought that she may get away from me again, so I took our small immediate family and a few friends and kidnapped her until she agreed to marry me."

I laughed then, a real laugh not a forced one. Bert smiled too and turned to me, "Please, tell me he’s exaggerating."

"Well, I’ve been in love with him since practically birth, followed him around to all his races, so no kidnapping was necessary." Impressed with myself and my candor, I finally fully relaxed.

"Ah, so is that what this picture is here? Let’s put that up on the screen," he instructed looking up at the flat panel behind us. The picture of the three of us, Desmond, Seth, and me in the winner’s circle with Seth’s late model behind us appeared on the screen.

"Yeah, I went to every race and tried to get Seth’s attention. I even learned to work on his car just so I could be closer to him." Shyly, I looked back down at my lap. "I was a bit of a pest."

"No, you were adorable, and I would have been chasing after you every second, but your brother threatened a long and painful death if I so much as looked at you twice." Seth and I both shot a knowing look over at Desmond who was standing behind the cameras grinning arrogantly.

"Well," Bert interrupted, "this sounds like a fairy tale ending, but what about the ex-fiancée? How does she feel about the happy news?"

Okay, this was a question I certainly wasn’t going to take on. Seth looked at me and rubbed circles on top of my hand. He seemed to be calculating his response very carefully. Looking Bert in the eye, he explained, "She’s angry… and hurt… and she has every right to be. It’s completely my fault, and I feel horrible that I hurt her, but I can’t change any of it, and I can’t bring myself to want to change any of it. I truly cared about Alexandria, I really did, but I can’t
live
without Alexis." Turning back to me, he lifted our joined hands up to kiss mine, "She means more to me than anything in this world."

"She means more to you than racing?" I couldn’t help but chuckle along with Bert and Seth at that question. What a silly thing to ask. I knew what Seth’s answer would be. We were two different things, two different categories. I was the most important person and thing in Seth’s world, I knew that, but racing was a part of him, it’s who he was and would always be. It didn’t upset me that racing was more important because I would never ask him to choose between us.

"Uhh, I’m gonna take a lot of teasing from the guys for this, but, uh," he turned to look into my eyes. "Yes, Bert, she means more to me than racing ever could, I don’t want to ever be without her as long as I live." My jaw nearly hit the floor?
Really?
I mean,
really?
Did he actually just say that? The man who had raced with a fever of 102 degrees, sicker than death; who raced every second he possibly could and played racing video games when he couldn’t race the real thing, then watched racing on TV when he was too tired to play the video games; who would give up eating to afford new shocks or a new rear-end… this man… this man was saying
I
, insignificant me, meant more to him than all of that?
Seriously?
I was floored.

Bert was smiling, and I noticed my favorite wedding picture of Seth and me appear on the screen behind him (the one from the cover of our album). All I could do was smile as I leaned into Seth, which was apparently a silent signal as he leaned closer to me and pressed his lips to mine very briefly.

Bert looked at the camera then and added, "There it is, Danny, young passionate love for the man touted as racing’s consummate bachelor. We’ll have to see if Seth Keller’s good fortune will continue to hold out long enough for him to win the race today and maybe even to win the championship. Back to you."

Someone yelled, "And we’re out," and Bert shook hands with Seth and with me, offering his congratulations. A few minutes later, Desmond, Seth, and I were walking out the studio door. Desmond seemed to think everything went perfectly. Seth seemed to think that the interview would completely stop Alexandria from causing any trouble. I was completely certain that they were both delusional. Alexandria was out for blood or she never would have threatened causing a media stink around Seth. I could guess that she thought she would be able to drag Seth into defending me in front of the cameras. What she didn’t know was that I could be a real witch and nothing would stop me from standing up for myself and for Seth, so she would have to take me on. In the eyes of the media, a woman defending her husband is always worth more than an ex who couldn’t let go. While I anticipated drama, I was confident that I would walk away victorious.

We went to the garage after the interview, and I stood back and watched Seth for a short time. It didn’t take long for me to realize he needed some space to give short little interviews in between talking with Gary about strategy, to his crew about the car, and any last minute changes he wanted to make. Desmond was busy sticking by Seth in order to cut off any inappropriate questions the press might ask him, so Wyatt drove me back to the motor coach to pick up Chelsea.

When we got back to the garage, I stood outside the garage with Chelsea and Desmond watching the fans. It was a bit like standing outside the polar bear exhibit at the zoo. People of all types walked by staring into the garage, not even paying attention to where they’re walking, just gawking at the car, the crew, and especially, at Seth. I lost count of how many skanky girls flipped their hair, laughed for no reason, tugged their yellow 99 tank tops a smidgeon lower or just stood drooling over my husband. It was humorous to an extent. I was happy to see his complete focus was on the car and not on them.

The crowds around the garage were a little crazy, and it seemed that we had more than our fair share of the fans, but nothing could have prepared me for the number of people in the stands that were decked out in Seth’s colors. Hats, flags, t-shirts, shorts, backpacks, even tattoos with Seth’s face, car number, sponsor name, Seth’s name, full likeness of the car, you name it, and I saw a version of it on someone at some point that day. It was a little overwhelming.

Chelsea seemed to read my mind as she nudged me in the arm, "This is a little insane, I had no idea people were so crazy about racing. I hardly knew this even existed."

Desmond, who had been holding her hand all day, explained, "The west coast isn’t much into the cup racing scene. It really started in the south and carries a pretty solid fan base there, but people come from all over to see these races. Seth actually came in second for most popular driver this year."

I was about to comment on this new information when, out of the corner of my eye I saw Miss beauty-queen herself standing outside the garage next to us. When I searched the crowd for her, though, I couldn’t locate her.
Hmm, interesting
. So either she isn’t going to do anything (not likely in my books), she is still working up the nerve (not so likely either), or she is biding her time until Seth comes out of the garage (this is what I was betting on). Well, no point in delaying the inevitable. I walked back toward the garage and got Seth’s attention knowing that if he wasn’t too busy he would walk toward me, but if he was busy, he would signal for me to wait a minute. I certainly didn’t want to interrupt any necessary conversations, Alexandria wasn’t worth all that. Of course, he came, practically skipping toward me when I smiled at him.