Page 6 of Torqued

Dad slides another folder at me. “I’d prefer not to see them with you in the room, but I think you need to know what we’re getting into with him.”

“Well, how interesting. His files have folders. Great!” I answer sarcastically.

I hold it up, so my father and I can’t see the information inside at the same time. There I find what I assume are photos of Rush in arguments, fistfights, and finally, in various positions with multiple women. Sometimes more than one.

I toss the folder back to the table. “Seriously? This is who you picked to represent our family?”

“Yes, and he’s going to.” Dad looks to Colton for backup.

I glare at Colton before he can answer. “You’re willing to put your money on this guy? He’s not only a PR nightmare, but a liability.”

“He’s damn good.” Colton flips his phone around, laying it down on the table and hits play. “Watch number seven. His talent is fluid and natural.”

Rush rounds the track in fifth place. He goes low and is blocked, even though it’s apparent his car is faster. He goes high on the track and others try to close him in. Suddenly, before the hole is gone, he shoots the gap.

He takes the car down the track, riding the line. By the time the others realize what’s going on, he moves again. Before anyone can fight for the lead, he takes the checkered flag.

I sigh heavily, knowing in my gut we have a fight on our hands. But it’s the tingle in it that scares me because anyone that can keep their wits about them to do what Rush just did will either be an ally or one helluva adversary. Rush looks to be both, and it sends chills racing over me. I sit back, crossing my legs as I wait for my uneasiness to abate.

“What are you thinking, Spencer?” Dad turns from side to side in his chair at the head of the table. Colton’s eyes flutter from my father to me. The odds of tabling this aren’t in my favor, so I go all in.

“I’ll arrange the trip this weekend, and look into a few other things. Colton, we’ll send over a contract by late Sunday. I’m assuming you’ll be traveling with me next week until we have a signed contract.”

Colton sits up. “I think that would be best. We need him all in and there has to be terms and limits.”

“I agree.”

“One more thing,” Colton holds his finger up. “his crew chief will be a deal-breaker for him.”

“Why is that?” My brows pull tight.

He shrugs. “They’ve been together since his early days. I can guarantee he’ll want his crew chief.”

“We’ll prep for a basic deal and try to make them both happy.” I stand, reaching for Colton’s hand. He takes it with a smile.

“I’ll be waiting to hear from you.”

I hold my hand out, waiting for him to walk toward the door. “After you.”

“Thank you, Spencer.”

Once Colton has cleared the elevator doors, I spin on my heels to face my father. “Dad! What are you doing to me? I don’t know a damn thing about racing!”

“You’ll learn like you did everything else.” He chuckles when I fall into the chair. “I thought you’d be happy it was an investment.”

“We need a team name, colors, number, crew, hauler, car… I could go on! I need specs and a list.”

“You need to breathe, it’ll be okay.”

“Lest we not forget the ticking time bomb slash PR nightmare our driver looks to be.” I slump into the seat.

Dad sits forward, taking my hand. “You’ll handle him, if anyone can, it’ll be you.”

“If I survive him.”

“Grab something, I want us on the same page from the start. Send the proposal over to me before it goes to Colton.” Dad points to the files on the table. “Also, take these with you. You need to know everything you can by Monday.”

“Good thing I’m a quick study.”