“People say the same thing about me, doll.”
She waved her hand and shook her head. “Not the same. You may have the Cummings last name, but you worked your way up. You raced in the bottom brackets, did dirt track for a bit. You didn’t just walk onto the track and act like you owned it. Terry acts like he’s God’s gift to every race fan.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t even know how the douche canoe has fans. Every person I see on race days that have his face plastered over their chest, I want to stop and ask them just what they like about him.”
“He wins.” Everyone liked the winner. Of course, there were always going to be people like Frankie who saw past the surface, but the majority of people went for the winner because who didn’t want to win?
“And you will too.” Her words were so confidant.
“At least, that’s one of us thinking that way.”
She rolled her eyes and grabbed the half of breadstick she threw. “You’ve already won one race this season. Who’s to say you can’t win more and win the cup?”
“Without a car chief, I don’t have a chance.”
She took another bite of her breadstick and chewed thoughtfully. “You do know there are tens of other car chiefs out there, right? I’m really not that great.”
That was a complete understatement. Frankie had my car so dialed in, it was almost as if the thing could drive itself in a straight line down the lane. “There are.” I stretched my arm along the back of the booth and shrugged. “I just don’t want any of them.”
She rolled her eyes. “Can we not talk about this right now? I’d like to enjoy the last of my breadstick without hating you.”
“So you don’t hate me right now?”
She squinted and nodded. “You’re tolerable at the moment. Though, be careful of what you say next. It could change in an instant.”
At least she gave me a warning. “How does one become more than tolerable?”
She laughed and shook her head. “Knowing my name is a good place to start.”
I was never going to live that down. “How can I make it up to you?” I was willing to do whatever it took to get Frankie to forgive me.
She grabbed the shaker of red pepper flakes. “Eat a handful, and maybe I’ll think about forgiving you.”
My stomach rolled, and I pushed her hand away. “No way.” I didn’t feel like breathing fire for the next couple of hours.
She held the shaker close to her face and shrugged. “Then I guess I’ll never forgive you. It is kind of fun being a bitch to you.”
“There has so be something else I can do for you to get over me not knowing your name for a couple of days.”
“Couple of days?” she screeched. “You didn’t know my name until I tossed a wrench at your head and Roc hollered my name.”
That was accurate. “And I told you why I didn’t know your name. Hell, more than half of those guys, I don’t know their names.”
“You knew Remy and Jay’s names,” she insisted.
“Because Remy was in my damn trailer, and Jay makes sure everyone knows his name.”
She laughed and set down the pepper shaker. “So since I didn’t break into your trailer or shove my name down your throat, you won’t know my name until I try to kill you?”
“No, Frankie. I’m just saying I’m sorry, and trust me when I say I’ve learned a very valuable lesson in all of this.”
She scoffed and pushed the pepper shaker toward me. “I really can’t hear what you’re saying.”
For fuck’s sake. She wasn’t going to forgive me until I downed a handful of pepper flakes. I grabbed the shaker and dumped a pile of flakes into my hand. “I do this and you can never bring up the fact I didn’t know your name and you have to forgive me.”
She looked at my hand and tilted her head to the side. “Three more shakes and you have a deal.”
“You’re kidding me,” I scoffed.
She lifted her head and smiled. “I grew up the younger sister to three brothers. You really think this is my first rodeo of making someone do something to earn my forgiveness?”
I shook the shaker three more times. “Is that better, doll?”
“That’ll do.” She sat back in the booth and folded her arms across her chest. “But you need to chew five times.”
“What? You said I just needed to do three more shakes.” I had planned to swallow this shit whole and hope to God it didn’t touch my tongue.
She held up her hand and wiggled her fingers. “Five chews, then you can swallow. That’s the only way I’ll forgive you.”
Frankie played dirty, and I had her brothers to thank for that. I’m sure growing up, she had to deal with a ton of shit from them. I was now on the receiving end. “I do this, you stop hating me.”
She held out her hand, and I reached out with the hand without a pile of pepper in it. “Deal. No more hating.” We shook hands, and I sat back in the booth.
I looked down at the pile of pepper. I was going to have maybe ten minutes of pain, but that would mean I wouldn’t have to deal with Frankie acting like she wanted to murder me all of the time.
3...2...1… I shoved the pile of pepper into my mouth and held it on my tongue. The burn was minimal, but I knew as soon as I chewed, life was going to be hell.
“Chew,” Frankie ordered.
“Now I hate you,” I mumbled. Oh, how the tables had turned.
She held her hands together, kept the heels of her palms connected, and moved her fingers apart like a chomping mouth. “C. H. E. W,” she spelled out.
I held my breath, closed my eyes, and chewed five times quickly. I swallowed down the fiery hell and felt my throat burn. My eyes snapped open, and I grabbed my half-empty beer. I chugged it down in three swallows, then grabbed for Frankie’s.
She snatched it away from my hand and held it to her chest. “Hell no, Hulk. This is my beer. Get your own.”
I glowered at her but was luckily able to flag down a waitress who was two tables away. “Six beers,” I called hoarsely. My throat was on fire, and I was losing all feeling of my tongue.
Frankie sputtered from trying to hold her laughter in and lost it after her head hit the counter. “Oh. My. God,” she wheezed. She pounded her fist on the table and gasped for air.
“I hope you’re happy,” I grumbled. I was going to be shitting fire for a week just to make Frankie happy.
The waitress brought over six beers, and by the time I downed the first one, Frankie had lifted her head off the table and had a shit-eating grin on her face. “I can’t believe you actually swallowed.”
“I’ll add that to the things I never thought I would hear come out of your mouth, Frankie.” She peeled off into another round of laughter, and I shook my head. At least one of us was having a good time.
“Are you going to need a box for the leftovers?”
The waitress was back, and from the look on her face, she must have been standing there for a bit before I saw her. Watching Frankie laugh was a sight to be seen. Her laugh was unabandoned and carefree. “Uh, yeah.” Frankie could take it back to Luke’s where I’m sure it would get eaten.