Caro closed her eyes and willed the ugly truth to go away. One more crash like the one in Las Vegas, and Hawkins Racing was done for. She'd have to dip into the reserve fund – the tiny bank account on the side – to pay for the parts to build a new car. Thanks to Dell's recklessness, they were down to one – and in his own words, it wasn't a winner.
She allowed herself a few minutes to absorb the grim reality of her situation. What seemed like a good idea a few weeks ago, now smacked of the worst decision of her life. If she'd kept Jeff… well… not a thing would have changed. Sure, she wouldn't be wondering how to pay for the parts they needed – but she'd still be wondering how long the company could hang on. Jeff wasn't ready to race at this level, perhaps he never would be. He wouldn't have won any races, but he didn't crash either. At least, she'd still have a car to put on the track.
Then there was Dell, or more specifically, Dell. Being the pragmatic woman she was, she had to admit one of the reasons she'd gone to him in the first place – besides the fact he was about the only Cup driver without a ride in the middle of the season – was that she'd had a crush on him since she was a kid. One of the worst things about being sent away to school – worse than leaving her dad and the circuit behind – was leaving Dell. She wasn't idiot enough to believe he'd harbored any feelings for her. Not a man like Dell. He was everything a track bunny dreamed of, and lord, help them all when he put on a fire suit.
Caro still remembered the first time she'd seen him in one. He was all of sixteen and full of excitement before his first Nationwide Series race. He won the race, and several more that year. She remembered the way the reporters talked about him. He was a phenomenon. He was bringing a new, smarter style of racing to the sport. They held him up as the driver of the future – one who would change racing from the “revenuers-on-my-ass” style, to a thinking man's sport.
But Dell had changed, and Caro had allowed her hormones to have a voice in her business decisions. It was a rookie mistake, and one she had to correct – somehow. The more time she spent with him, the more troublesome those hormones became. All Dell had to do was look at her and she wanted more. Good heavens, she wanted more. More of the heat he stirred within her, more of his touch, more, more, more.
The heavy outside door clanged shut, jolting Caro out of her erotic musings. She needed to keep, or more precisely, get her relationship with Dell back on a professional level. He was her employee, and it was her responsibility to set the tone for their association. No more touching him, and most importantly, no more letting him touch her.
Footsteps and voices in the hallway announced the arrival of her crew. It was another race week, and there was work to do. Another car to build, parts to order and payroll to make. And, she still needed to talk to Dell – preferably before he put his butt in another one of her cars and tried to kill himself. As his employer, she had a responsibility to keep him alive – didn't she? At the very least, it was in her best interest.
It was his day off and she debated whether to have the conversation with him or wait. As far as she could tell, Dell's suicide of choice was by automobile – on a racetrack – so perhaps the conversation could keep for at least one more day. And that would be one more day to convince herself to ignore her hormones. Besides, if Dell wanted to kill himself, he didn't need a racecar to do it. It was an unsettling thought, but one she quickly dismissed because deep down, she couldn't believe suicide was Dell's motive. That begged the question, “What was?”
If he weren't trying to kill himself on the track, there had to be something else behind his reckless driving style.
“Got a minute?” Russell leaned in her open doorway. The deep furrow between his eyebrows told Caro this wasn't a social call.
“Sure,” she said. “You know I always have time for my crew chief.” Russell shuffled in, shutting the door behind him. Even though she was the one in the power position behind the desk, Caro's stomach flipped. It was going to take more than a few months to get used to being the one in charge. “Have a seat,” she said.
Russell took the chair across from her, sat forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He let out a puff of air through pursed lips, as if reconciling himself to an unpleasant duty. Dread wrapped itself around Caro's somersaulting stomach and squeezed.
“What is it, Russell?”
“I dunno know how to say this, Carolina, so I'm gonna to come right out with it.”
Russell paused. Caro's shoulders tightened, and she mentally chided herself for being ridiculous. What could Russell possibly say that could be worse than her own thoughts these days? Her black thoughts of a minute ago flashed through her head, and the band of dread gripping her stomach wrapped itself around her heart. “Is this about Dell?”