Sweet Carolina(11)
“Too tight?” she asked.
“No. It's perfect. You did good, Caro.”
“Your measurements were on file. I just told them what colors to use.”
“Well, it's all good. I appreciate it. The ride, I mean. The suit too.”
“You're welcome.”
“All's square with the sponsor?” he asked.
Caro tapped her finger on the contract in front of her. “Yep. They came by and signed the new contract this morning. They even increased their involvement to include free ice cream if you win.”
Dell's smile lit up the room, as well as a few other things. “Free ice cream. That's quite a commitment.”
“Laugh if you will, but they're stocking up on ice cream.”
His smile dimmed.” They have that much confidence in my ability?”
“Of course they do. Why wouldn't they?”
“Oh, I don't know. Maybe because I've wrecked more than I've won in the last few years?”
“Or maybe they know what a good driver you are?”
“I'll try, Caro. That's all I can do.”
“It's all I'm asking, Dell.”
Caro admired his butt as he left her office. The man had it going on back there too. She frowned at his retreating backside. His body might be hot, but his personality ran hot and cold, and Caro never knew what to expect. One minute he was laughing about free ice cream, and the next, he was scowling and making excuses. He'd been moody as a kid, but never like this.
Caro tried to remember the adolescent Dell. As kids, they'd both had their disagreements with their dads. Caro's didn't want her in the garage, and Dell's didn't want him racing. Through it all, Dell was a happy kid – except those times he argued with his dad. Caudell Senior could be a hard man when he wanted to be, but Caro remembered him, if not fondly, respectfully. Like her dad, Caudell wanted what he believed was best for his only child, and it never occurred to him, said child might want something different. Both men were used to getting their way.
But Caro and Dell defied the odds, and look where they were. Well, look where Dell was. He was one of the best, while Caro still had a lot to prove. So why was Dell so quick to put down his abilities? Surely, he recognized his own talent.
When he was out of sight, Caro turned her attention to the new contracts. Once she announced Dell Wayne was going to drive for them, Caro received several sponsorship offers she had yet to consider. They weren't major offers, but a sponsor was a sponsor. Dell would be on the racetrack in a few days, and the more endorsements, the better. Caro was grateful her father's lawyer was still willing to look over the contracts: but as the new owner of the company, it was her duty to at least read through them. She looked forward to the day when she could afford to hire people to manage the office so she could spend more time in the garage. She understood the mechanical end of the business better than she did the business end.
Caro penned acceptance letters for two new sponsors. The contracts were small, but they were solid backing, just what she needed if Hawkins Racing was going to make it. Restoring the team to its former glory wasn't going to be easy, but Caro vowed to do it. If she could get a positive cash flow going, and perfect the new engine design she'd been working on for the last few years, Hawkins Racing would, once again, be a respected name in auto racing.
A knock sounded on her door. Caro looked up, grateful for the interruption. Russell stuck his head in.
“The hauler is ready to go. You wanna come talk to the crew?”
Caro rose, dropping her pen on the desk. “Sure. I'll be right out.” Russell nodded and shut the door behind him. Caro raised a hand to the back of her head and checked to make sure every strand was in place. The send-off was a race week tradition at Hawkins Racing, begun by her father, and continued by her. She grabbed her coveralls from the small closet behind her desk and slipped them on over her sand-colored linen slacks and cream-silk blouse.
The garage door was open, the hauler parked outside – ready to head out to Martinsville for the weekend's race. Caro smiled at the knot of mechanics, engineers and crew members standing beside the hauler. Most of them had been with Hawkins Racing for years and elected to remain so after her father's death. Some, she suspected, were hanging around to see how long it would take for her to do a face plant – something she had no intention of doing. Hawkins was once a respected name in racing, and Caro vowed to do everything in her power to make it one again.
* * * *
“Good afternoon,” Caro greeted the gathering. Dell turned at the sound of her voice and surprise socked him in the gut. This was the Carolina Hawkins he remembered – except her hair was swept up in one of those fancy knots again, exposing the long, graceful lines of her neck. Gone was the pristine lady of the manor. In her place stood the grease-smeared hellion who had shown him how a carburetor worked when she was all of eight.