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“C’mon, Princess. It’s time to go.”
Jake pulls me against him, and we leave.
I don’t look back.
33-Jake
Talladega Superspeedway
Joey, the team rookie, and my personal nuisance, is the only one in the hauler.
“Is Bert around?” I ask. Bert is in our VIP lounge, so the question is mainly an excuse to leave.
Joey jerks and bolts to his feet. “Haven’t seen him, sorry.”
“Did I wake you?” It’s not nap time. Practice is done, and qualifying starts soon.
“Lost in thought.” Joey’s early-season bravado is long since gone. “This season is not turning out like I hoped.”
“I don’t disagree. It’s been difficult for a lot of us.”
“You’re also not a rookie.” Joey sits and spreads both palms across his thighs. “I don’t bring much with me.”
Joey’s cryptic statement might confuse some, but I understand, as would plenty of other drivers. It also explains his subdued manner. Rookies don’t have strong sponsor relationships or fan bases. They also don’t have a record to point to. They’re a risk, and for a team looking to add a new driver, someone like Joey isn’t a first pick, especially when there is a broad pool of candidates in the Xfinity series eager to prove themselves.
Pity strikes, and I take a seat opposite him. “Do you have an offer?”
Joey shakes his head. “Do you?”
Nothing that needs to be shared with him. “There are discussions, but no final decision is made. You want some advice?”
“Please.” Joey’s response makes me think of a dog begging for a treat.
“Stop trying to win. You’re competing against several more years of experience than you; that strategy is dooming you to failure.” Joey pulls himself up to protest, so I raise my hand. “You want this or not?” He relaxes. “I’ve known your crew chief for a while, and he’s good. He’s also aggressive and will push you to take a lap when you should pit. My suggestion is to try for progress. Aim for top-ten or top-fifteen finishes instead of wins. If your starting position is further back, demonstrate your ability to move up the field. That shows promise, and you’re a driver worth investing in. Master that first, and then work on the rest.”
“Is that what you did?”
I already had a win at this point in my rookie season. “Yes, pretty much. Getting into the playoffs wasn’t the goal; it was proving I deserved to be here. Get a few decent finishes under you, then aim for more. Team owners will notice, I promise.”
“That’s good advice,” he says. I stand, wanting to exit, but Joey keeps talking. “I’ve been wanting to be here for a long time. It feels like most of my life.”
“All of us did.”
“Sometimes it feels like you’ll do anything for a spot, even when you shouldn’t.” Joey’s sour expressionchanges as his features soften and grow thoughtful. “There’s no point dwelling on what I did; you’re right. Thanks for listening to me, Jake. Do you want something to drink?”
He’ll pour me some of that seltzer water if I don’t make a fast exit. “I’m due elsewhere before Quals start.”
∞∞∞
I slow at the sound of my name. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you,” Derek says as he stands beside me. “Where you off to?”
“Back to my trailer for a quick lunch,” I say, substantially slowing my pace.
Derek sought me out in person rather than sending a quick text message or going directly to the RV. He knows Sarah is staying with me, so he doesn’t want her around to hear what comes next.
“Boone Rivers reached out to me again,” he says, and my heart sinks. “He upped the salary. A lot.”
A chance behind the wheel would excite Derek; that makes sense, but money? “It must be a good amount.”
