I slapped my hat on my leg and settled it on top of my head. “Is it weird I’m looking forward to it?”
Harlyn busted out laughing. “You might be a glutton for punishment, Mr. Cummings.”
“Call me Brooks, Harlyn.”
Her eyes dodged to her dad’s closed office door. “Uh, I think I’ll stick to Mr. Cummings.”
“Brooks? Is that you?” Roc’s door swung open, and he stood on the other side looking shocked as hell to see me. “I was just trying to call you.”
“Must have left my phone in the car. Something you need?”
He stepped to the side and opened his door wide. “Just a couple of things to go over. I also have a few applications for the car chief spot.”
“Later, Harlyn,” I muttered. I walked into Roc’s office and closed the door behind me. “The car chief spot isn’t open.”
Roc sat down in his chair, and I sat opposite him. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You find someone without telling me?”
Another time I had to tamp down the attitude my dad had pounded into me. This was my race team, and my name was on the car, but it didn’t run without Roc, and Roc was in charge of the crew. “Not anyone new. Frankie will be here Tuesday.”
“Tomorrow?” Roc looked at me uncertain. “Are we talking about the same person here?”
I nodded my head. “Yeah. I might have to do a bit more talking, but she’s back.”
“Is this her saying she’s back, or you saying it?”
“A mixture of both.” Things had changed when I had left last Friday. Granted, it might have been the fact that Frankie was drunk, but even before she downed four beers, I could tell that she didn’t hate me anymore.
“Well,” he grabbed some papers off his desk and dropped them in the garbage can next to him. “That takes a little stress off of me. I won’t have to interview these guys anymore.”
Perhaps he shouldn’t throw those away just yet, but I didn’t want to jinx the fact that Frankie was coming back. “What else did you want to talk to me about?”
“We’ve hit a snag with using two different springs. I talked to Croft to bring them on as a sponsor, and they said they won’t as long as MaxLite is on your car.”
“That’s shit.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what to do. Frankie said we needed to use those two springs, but if we can’t get these two to agree to be on the same car, then we’re going to have to choose one.”
I shook my head. “That isn’t an option, Roc. You saw the car in Allenton. We used only MaxLite, and I about hit the wall every run.”
“I know, I know,” he agreed. “We need to use the two springs because the difference is what we need.”
I sat back in my chair and sighed. “Can we talk to one of them and see if they have something similar to the other spring? Try to find something close?”
Roc grabbed a pad of paper and scribbled something down. “I thought of that. MaxLite told me that wouldn’t be possible, and I’m waiting for a call back from Croft to see what they say.” He ripped the piece of paper off and stuck it on a stack of papers. “I do have another idea, but I’m not sure if it’s even a possibility. You get Frankie back in that garage, it might be more possible.”
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Not saying anything until I run it by Frank. This all started from her, so I want to make sure what I’m seeing is what she’s seeing.”
I sighed and leaned my head back. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to not demand to know what you’re thinking?”
Roc busted out laughing. “So that’s what the hell has been going on with you. You’re trying to turn over a new leaf, but old Brooks still wants to come in roaring every now and then.”
“You have no idea,” I groaned. “The ol’ man bred me to be a raging asshole, and losing my car chief has taught me I can’t be the type of guy he is if I want to have a crew that likes me.”
“Some drivers would tell you they don’t care if their crew likes them or not as long as they’re winning.”
“Tried that. Almost ended up in the wall because of it.” Being that close to the wall wasn’t anything I wanted to experience ever again. “We need Frankie back. The way she sets that car up is going to help me win.”
Roc sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Not gonna argue with you. You get her back, I can guarantee we’ll win the next race.”
That's what I wanted to hear. I knew Frankie was good, but having Roc verify she was the key to us winning was what I needed to hear. “She’ll be here.”
“Good, good.”
“Anything else you need from me?” I had a few things to take care of before Frankie arrived tomorrow, and I needed to get to them as soon as possible.
She was going to get my full attention even if I had to lock us in a room and throw away the key.
Frankie was coming back to Cummings Racing, and I wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
Not anymore.
*
Chapter Twelve
Frankie
“What is this?”
“Uh, what?”
I pulled my phone from my ear and looked down at the email Harlyn had just sent me. I put my phone on speaker and glared down at the phone. “A plane ticket.”
“Yes.”
Argh. She wasn’t going to give anything up. “Why do I have a plane ticket in my email, Harlyn?”
“Because I was told to send you one.”
“And whose phone number is this?” I demanded. I had a hunch who it was, but I was having a hard time even wrapping my head around the fact that he had just sent me a plane ticket.
“Mr. Cummings.”
“Brooks?”
“Well, certainly not Reginald.”
If it had been the old man’s number, I would have shit myself then and there. “Let’s go back to the reason why I need a plane ticket.”
“I’m assuming it’s because Mr. Cummings would like to see you. If you need any more information than that, then I suggest you give that number a call.”
“I don’t accept this, Harlyn.” I knew she had nothing to do with this, but I was still pissed she had listened to Brooks and sent the damn thing. “You should have told him you booked me a ticket but didn’t really.”
“You don’t think he would realize I didn’t buy you a ticket when you didn’t show up?” she asked.
“By the time he would have figured out you didn’t send me a plane ticket, I would have been halfway to Alaska.”
Harlyn sighed. “I’d love to go to Alaska one day. I’m not meant for the hot, humid heat of Leeds Square.”
“You live in Kentucky, Harlyn. It’s not like you live in the third ring of hell like Florida or Texas.”
“I’d also like to go to Texas, too. Can you imagine all of that cowboy goodness?”
“Say what?” someone shouted in the background.
“Oh shit,” Harlyn hissed. “Remy just walked in. I’ll talk to you tomorrow when I see you.” She hung up before I could tell her she wasn’t going to see me, and I tossed my phone down on the bed.