Shifting Gears (18 page)

Yep. This was where Annabelle belonged.

A smile stretched across her face as she looked out at the rows of cars on the track. “Let's win this one, Kerri. For the girls.”

“You got it, chief,” came Kerri's reply.

And then the flag went up.

Chapter 16

Annabelle had brought Kerri to another first-place win this weekend.

All on her own.

Grady had wanted to fly out, just to be there for her first race as the solo crew chief, but Dobson's secretary had scheduled his site visit for the Monday right after the race, and Grady wanted every minute he had to spend on making things perfect for the meeting.

He hated having to miss the race, but he'd worked his ass off to finish up his work in time to at least watch the race on TV. He'd cheered every time the camera had panned over the crew chiefs, and tried not to notice how the cameraman seemed to love to linger on Annabelle far longer than on any other crew chief.

And then Kerri had won, and Grady had called Annabelle right after the win, too, and she'd screamed and cheered into the phone one minute and told him she missed him the next.

He went to the airport an hour early on Sunday, too anxious for Annabelle's flight to arrive so that he could take her in his arms and show her how much he'd missed her, too.

How proud he was of her.

Kerri and Ranger had been on the same flight, and he didn't even care that Kerri had smirked when he swept Annabelle up and kissed her with three days of pent-up longing. Instead, he'd laughed and taken Annabelle home, then spent the rest of the day worshipping her body.

But now it was Monday morning and Dobson was set to arrive any minute. The excitement and joy of the weekend had been replaced by a tense anticipation that not even Annabelle's teasing had been able to relieve. She'd finally sensed that he was in need of a little time alone, because about an hour ago, she'd kissed his cheek, wished him luck, and headed down to the garage.

He hadn't been so far gone into his stress that he hadn't checked out her ass in those coveralls as she walked out of his office, though. And she must have known he would, because in the doorway she'd stopped abruptly and given him a coy look over her shoulder.

He'd grinned at that, some of the tension finally easing.

Damn, Annabelle rocked.

Through the window, Grady watched a black luxury sedan pull into the Hart Racing lot.

Dobson.

Suddenly, he wished Annabelle were next to him. But he squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and walked out to the parking area. A man was just stepping out of the black car when Grady stepped onto the gravel lot.

“Phil?”

He came forward, hand outstretched, and the man nodded, taking Grady's hand and shaking it firmly. “The one and only. Good to meet you, Grady.”

Phil Dobson was a tall, well-built guy with short, slightly rumpled-looking dark hair that was graying at the temples. He had a network of tiny laugh lines around his eyes and a slight tan to his skin that hinted at a lot of time outdoors, despite his high-powered executive position. From what Grady heard, Phil was in his mid-fifties, though the guy looked about ten years younger than that.

Grady felt very out of his league.

But he pressed on. He wanted this deal. He was going to make this deal, damn it. Something like this would
define
him.

And then he could be a man worthy of Annabelle Murray.

He ushered Phil into his office and spent the next three hours going over the design, discussing performance and specs, and even throwing out some numbers.

Grady's palms started sweating again when Phil named a number that would allow Grady to get his own office space and expand his staff by five. It was difficult to keep a professional, calm demeanor in the face of all that possibility.

But he did it.

They were wrapping up with a tour of the Hart Racing side of the house and found Annabelle standing by herself in the third bay, frowning down at Mom's car. Grady brought Phil over to meet her, wanting to at least be near her, even if he couldn't reach out and hug her close and kiss her like he wanted to.

But he stood as close as he could without seeming too obvious, and she smiled at him as he made the introductions. “Annabelle, this is Phil Dobson of U.S. Classic Auto. Phil, this is the Hart Racing crew chief, Annabelle Murray.”

He didn't miss how Annabelle beamed at him. She liked being introduced that way, he could tell, and he was proud of her for earning that position.

Phil walked forward and took Annabelle's hand. “A pretty little thing like you, working around all those rough guys? I don't believe it.”

Did the guy just not realize how he sounded? He was probably trying to compliment her, though. Grady could understand. He was willing to let it slide.

Although he didn't miss the way Annabelle's face darkened. But she kept her cool, too. Probably figured the same thing Grady did—that Dobson didn't realize that his attempt at flattery was falling simply
flat.

“I try not to hold them back too much,” she said, not smiling anymore, but not glaring, either. Neutral.

She was perfect.

Dobson chuckled and turned to Grady. “And feisty, too. I like her.”

Maybe it hadn't been a clumsy compliment. Grady didn't like the way Phil was talking about Annabelle like she was a dog. Or as though she wasn't even here.

He was about to open his mouth and say something when Annabelle put her hand on his arm and squeezed. Hard. Enough to make him turn his head and look at her in question. She was staring at him intently, obviously trying to communicate … something.

“I'd like your opinion on some of the work I've done on this car. But
later.
I know you're busy at the moment.”

Okay. He wasn't that dense. He got the message, that she didn't want him saying anything to Dobson in her defense. But was it just because of the deal? Or was she again insisting on standing up for herself and fighting her own battles?

Except it wasn't like he could ask her now, and he was only so skilled at reading eyebrow waggles and death stares.

“Well, speaking of busy, I've got to head out. Got a flight to catch.” Dobson clapped Grady on the back. “But I like what you've done here, son. I think we should start talking terms and getting my technical guys involved.”

Holy shit. Dobson wanted to move forward. And in a big way. Talking terms meant putting a deal together …

Calm down. You haven't finished this yet. Calm down.

Shit. He needed a minute or he was going to start hyperventilating all over the place. “Of course, Phil. Of course.” His throat felt a little tight, though, and he had to swallow hard to get the words out.

Just a minute alone to calm his nerves …

“Let me just, um, go grab my laptop.” He turned to Annabelle. “Annabelle, do you mind escorting Phil to the conference room?”

They rarely used the conference room because it was on the same floor as the garage and was a pretty stark room, but he needed to stall somehow.

Annabelle gave him a small smile and nodded. “Of course not. We'll meet you there in a minute.”

He nodded in thanks, then practically ran toward the stairs. This was going to happen. This was going to work out. Nothing could stop him now.

*   *   *

Annabelle watched Grady rush off and felt a swell of pride.

She was so happy for him. All that hard work, all those years of feeling like he wasn't good enough but wanting so much to be someone more … he was finally getting what he wanted.

Sure, Dobson was a nuisance, but at least she wouldn't have to work with him, and she was willing to put up with a lot if it made Grady happy.

But before she could lead Dobson to the conference room, he stepped closer to her, so close that he was practically pushing his chest against her shoulder, and gave her a smarmy smile.

What the hell?

“I have to admit, you are a welcome sight, Miss Murray,” he murmured.

Ick.
She didn't like where this was going one bit. But she didn't want to make a scene and tell him to shove it, so instead she backed away subtly and looked at him sideways. “I'm afraid I don't understand, Mr. Dobson.”

He inched closer.

Did this guy have no conscience? She was starting to get a little worried. Short of running away from him, there wasn't much she could do without being brutally honest. And that might cost Grady the deal.

Dobson chuckled, all sleazy and slippery. It made her want to retch. “Come now, call me Phil. I mean, usually when I go to outfits like this it's just a sausage fest. Any women are usually grizzled and dumpy and have spent too much time with the boys. But you…” He shook his head, smirking at her. “You're a hot piece, Annabelle.”

She blinked at him.

A hot piece.
He'd actually taken it there. God, this was like Fogerty all over again.

Except worse.

Because this time, if she stood up to him the way she wanted to—the way she was fully capable of doing on her own—it would cost Grady a contract.

She was sure of it.

On the other hand, if she just shrank away, he'd think he could do this kind of thing all the time. And she didn't want that. No way did she want that.

But this was Grady's dream.

Just grin and bear it. He's not that bad. He—

He reached out and stroked a hand down her arm. “What say I finish up here and then you and me go find a quiet place to have a little chat?”

She couldn't help it. She recoiled a bit, her lip curling up. “No, thank you. Now, if you'll excuse me, the conference room is just over there. I think you can find your way on your own.” She started to pull away, but his hand closed around her elbow, hard enough to make her wince.

“Aw, honey. Don't go getting skittish on me. Or maybe you're just playing hard to get. I do like a little play to go along with my work. How about you and I go have some fun and in exchange, I do the deal with your boss?”

Her jaw dropped and she froze, gaping at him. “Are you suggesting that I
have sex
with you in exchange for you giving the contract to Grady?”

He chuckled. “What a dirty little mouth on you. I've got a good idea for what you can do with that—ow! Fucking fuck!”

He dropped her elbow as he shouted in pain, and Annabelle didn't bother to wait around. She took off for the other side of the garage, toward the safety of Bit and the guys, who were already walking toward her to see what the commotion was about.

She hoped she hadn't actually broken Dobson's foot when she'd stamped her steel-toed boot on his instep.

Then again, it's not like he didn't deserve it.

“You fucking whore! I think you broke my foot! Get back here right now!”

Shit.

She hauled ass toward Bit, who looked furious. Bit immediately grabbed her and put her behind him, shouting at Dobson. “She's not going anywhere near you! That's no way to talk to a lady. You'd better get the hell out of here right now if you know what's good for you!”

“She's no
lady,
” sneered Dobson, who was moving toward them awfully quickly for a man who supposedly had a broken foot.

That was when Grady came running down the stairs. “What's going on here?” He was shouting as he approached.

“This little
slut
just broke my foot.” Dobson pointed at her, his finger shaking with rage.

“Are you talking about Annabelle?” Grady swung his head to look at her, then back at Dobson. “Phil, I don't think—” Grady started, but Dobson cut him off.

“Oh, fuck you. I don't want to hear it. I'm outta here. I expect groveling. I want a written apology and you licking my ass for a couple months before we can talk terms. Otherwise, no deal. I'll make my own muffler rather than give a cent to an operation that employs a cheap trick like her.”

Asshole.

She expected Grady to lose his temper then and give Dobson a piece of his mind, to tell him that he'd never fire Annabelle just to get a deal done.

But Grady didn't say a word.

Say something! Defend me! Protect me!

But Dobson was already stomping off, and the entire group simply watched him stalk out, slamming the front door and leaving the garage suddenly, horribly quiet.

Annabelle waited for Grady to come to her and hug her, to ask if she was okay.

But instead, he turned with a frown on his face and shouted, “What did you do to him?”

What?

Annabelle gaped at him. “What did
I
do?”

Please don't mean what I think you mean.

“What did you do to offend him like that? Is that why you wanted me to wait? So you could stand up for
yourself
and ruin everything? Whatever you thought you were doing, I could have taken care of if you just hadn't been so adamant about being independent. But now—what the
hell?
” Grady was shouting at her.

He was saying that whole thing was her fault.

He hadn't stood up for her just now because he thought it was her fault.

Oh my God.

She whimpered at the realization. The sound made Bit scowl, and he came forward, grabbing Grady's arm. “Listen here, Grady. You need to apologize to Annabelle immediately or—”

“No.”
Oh, goodness.
Her voice was breaking. She was going to cry in front of everyone. She swallowed and blinked hard. “No, he doesn't. Because I won't accept it. He's shown his true colors. Any apology now would just b-be
meaningless.
”

The words seemed to register with Grady, and he suddenly deflated, almost like someone else had been inside of his body and had just escaped. “No. Wait. Shit. Annabelle—”