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“She’s at home meeting with a contractor. We’re ripping out the bedroom carpet and redoing a bathroom.”
“You aren’t doing anything to my room, are you?” It’s mine. A decent amount of my clothes are there. “She said I could keep it as long as I want.”
“I can’t do anything. She won’t let me.” His characteristic sour expression returns. “We aren’t touching your room. It’s yours for as long as you want it.”
“That’s good because I’m spending the night again,” I say. There’s no reaction, probably because I’ve been sleeping over almost every night. “My lease ends in a couple of months. It makes sense to move in to save on rent. Don’t you think?” Antagonizing him is fun, even though there’s plenty of room for a large family in their house.
Boone’s jaw tightens, except the expected outburst doesn’t come. “We have a strict 9 PM curfew. We expect a phone call if you won’t be home for dinner. No strangers staying over without my permission first. Any dates will need to meet with me for a pre-date inspection. You’ll take the garbage out and keep a clean room.”
“Anything else?” I ask.
He takes it seriously. “Mowing the lawn,” he says. It’s likeBoone is practicing for fatherhood.
“Deal breaker.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Boone puts a hand on my shoulder, and his expression softens. “If you want to stay with us, whether permanent or temporary, having my sister nearby would be great. Madelyn will feel the same. You’ve had it tough for a while.”
“What makes you say that?” My mind almost goes to Maddie, but she wouldn’t reveal my secrets.
“Let’s go back to my office.,” Boone says, pointing down the hallway. “Nothing in particular. Honestly, I’ve half-expected you to turn in notice for a while because you decided to be a lawyer or live some bohemian lifestyle in Belize.”
My brows draw together. “What?”
“I’m not judging,” Boone says. He raises his hands. “Go be a hippy. It’s fine.”
“I’m not doing that.” Does he even know where Belize is?
We enter his office, and Boone lies across his thinking couch. He nicknamed the damned thing shortly after Maddie became his assistant. She took his executive chair, so he took the couch. Boone claims he does his best thinking while sprawled across it. Secretly, I’m not so sure.
“Good. You’ve been enjoying yourself this past week.” He turns to eye me. “It seemed that way to me. Was that wrong?”
Boone’s observation is correct, which is a surprise, although maybe it shouldn’t. Jake’s request lit a fire in me, and I’m enjoying my work again. Bristol hosts the next race, and I’ll be there. Only this secret can’t be shared with anyone. “No, you’re not. You still want to add another driver, correct?”
The change in conversation surprises him, but Boone answers. “We’re ready for it. The lack of charters is the big problem.”
“Are there any rumors of one becoming available?”
The question grabs his attention. “Have you heard anything?”
Only if a weird feeling counts. “It was just a question. You have an ownership stake, and owners talk, don’t they?”
“So do you, and yes, they do.”
“Yes, but I don’t care about it.”
I have a minority share, small enough that it hardly means anything. Boone always planned to assume responsibility, so most of it fell on him. In comparison, I told everyone that motorsports management was horrible and wanted no part of it.
Boone rubs at his temples. “This is the big question I’ve been wrestling with. We’re ready for a third team; I’m taking it if a charter becomes available. We’ll have investors if we can prove it’s a good financial decision, which it will be. First, we’d need the charter. Without that…” He shrugs.
“Someone would need to sell it.”
“A couple of teams can barely afford to field a single driver. I’m expecting at least one of them to give up eventually. For now, our growth remains in the lower series.”
Leaving the Cup Series would break Jake’s heart, so it’s not an option. “How difficult is it to operate one car?”
“It’s harder than you think. It could be done with a production partner, I guess. You’d constantly risk losing good staff to the better-funded teams.” Boone turns on his side to get comfortable. The couch is too small for his enormous frame, so his legs dangle over the side. “If someone will do the work, anything is possible.”
“That’s what I thought.”
