Phobic (Phoebe Reede: The Untold Story #2) Page 2

  When I thought it couldn’t get worse, my gaze dropped and caught sight of the place where Beau’s hand touched Cassidee’s waist. With his fingers rubbing gently over her side, my eye was drawn to the slight bump under her tank. I bit my lip when it became clear she was sporting the beginnings of a baby belly. To be so small, but starting to show already, she had to be at least a trimester along, maybe a little more.

  My mind ran over the math. It was the end of October now . . .

  It hit me like a punch in the stomach. She had to have fallen pregnant around the time of my trip, or at least within a month of me going home. Right when Beau was pursuing me. When he was telling me he loved me. I curled my hand into a fist and pressed it against my stomach. I was sure I was going to lose the contents of my stomach if I tried to open my mouth.

  “And we’re expecting,” Beau added, clearly seeing the path of my gaze.

  “Due March 8.” Cassidee rubbed her belly.

  The due date confirmed my suspicions as I counted it back. Conception had to have happened right around the time of my trip. It must have been close to the night he first met me. Had he gone from her bed to our night in the hills in Sacramento? Or was it the other way around?

  Worse, had our trysts intertwined? Had he jumped from her to me and back again with barely a breath in between? My eyes lifted to meet Beau’s and rather than the swirling galaxies I’d always seen, his chocolate and amber irises were flat, lifeless. He pulled Cassidee closer to him, and she obliged by turning her body against his and resting her hand on his chest.

  “Wha—what . . .” I couldn’t get enough air—I was drowning in the tears that wanted to fall but that I wouldn’t let escape.

  “Why don’t you fuck off back to Australia,” one of the guys behind me called out. “We don’t need pampered princesses here. We need proper drivers. Like Cash.”

  There was another round of raucous laughter behind me.

  I looked to Beau, wondering why the fuck I’d thought I could do this. I was so far from home, and without any safety net. Of course, I hadn’t expected him to be at my workplace. I’d thought I’d only have to deal with him at the track in February, and maybe at some events with multiple teams in attendance.

  Instead of showing any concern or sorrow for the way I was being treated, for the words hurled at me behind my back, he stared at me. His gaze was locked with mine and impassive in every way. His jaw was set and as I watched him, he lifted his free hand across his body to wrap his fingers around the ones Cassidee rested on his chest.

  If he noticed the tears that sprang to my eyes, he didn’t show it. I pressed my teeth together to stop myself from crying.

  “Well, I’m glad to see our little arrangement didn’t hurt you any,” I remarked, letting my hurt manifest into anger. “And that it didn’t put a damper on your love life.”

  “I dunno why ya bothered to come here, Phoebe . . .” He narrowed his eyes as he let my name hang between us. “Or should I say Dawson? Dang, ya know, I can never remember what name I’m supposed to call you.” He stepped closer to me, but didn’t bother lowering his voice when he said, “Maybe I should just call ya easy.”

  The laughter behind me indicated that everyone else in the room knew about our history. Was I just a joke to him? Someone who he’d tricked into bed and a conquest to be bragged about after the event?

  Cassidee stared at me, a slight frown on her pretty lips. She nudged him with her elbow and said his name as an admonishment.

  He turned his attention to her briefly, and some silent communication passed between them, ending with her resting her hand on his arm and him nodding.

  I wrapped my arms around my waist. How could the one guy I’d ever let myself fall head over heels for be such an arsehole? Setting my shoulders, I lifted my chin so I could stare at him in challenge. He wouldn’t break me; I wouldn’t let him. “I came because we still have an outstanding debt. Two out of three, wasn’t it? And we’re at one all right now. Let’s see who wins the next one.”

  His nostrils flared and for half a second, his eyes flashed with some emotion before his gaze returned to the hard, lifeless stare it had contained throughout the rest of the conversation. “Of course, it’s all about provin’ yourself, isn’t it? The next big challenge. Well, your father can’t help ya here, not no more. He might’ve financed your way onto the team, but that don’t mean he’s paid for anyone to respect ya.”

  “Go respect yourself,” I spat at him.

  He sneered at me and then stepped aside to open my path to the doorway. “See ya round, princess.”

  Even though it was the worst thing I could do in the circumstances—even though it meant that the guys would never learn to respect me or think I could hold my own—I did the only thing I could in the situation. I held my tears in as I rushed from the room.

  What a fucked up first day.

  Despite fleeing though, I didn’t let myself cry until I was out of sight of them all—safe in the ladies’ room.

  Then I met my gaze in the mirror and wondered once more what exactly I’d gotten myself into. I’d gambled so much, put the life I had—one I loved—on hiatus. And I’d done it all for an arsehole, who was engaged to someone else with a baby on the way.

  It was abundantly clear that he’d been screwing Cassidee while he was with me. The physical evidence of that was tucked away under her clothes. Of course, he’d admitted to me that there were others, and I’d suspected she might be one of them, but I’d never dreamed he’d be engaged to her.

  Or that she’d be pregnant.

  Why had I thought a confrontation or payback was a good idea?

  Reality struck, and it struck hard. Fuck. He must have been screwing her while I was sending him almost topless photos of myself. While we were having our ever-more-daring Skype dates where I’d slowly grown confident enough to give him little shows. Had that been a joke to him? A fucking laugh? Had he shared my photos with the crew who’d showed such obvious disdain for me? He’d obviously posted them online, why would I think he hadn’t shared them with all and sundry before then.

  How could Mum and Dad put me onto this team?

  Of course, the answer was clear at once.

  They’d thought they were being supportive sending me to the States and probably didn’t even know Beau was on the team. If they did, they probably thought we’d figure that out ourselves.

  Either way, I was facing a little more than twelve months of hell at the hands of the only person I’d ever given myself to.

  The thought was one too many and I broke down.

  I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.

  AFTER ALLOWING MYSELF a minute to fall to pieces, I gathered the bits up and put myself back together. It was my choice to come over, after all. Maybe I hadn’t understood the shit fight I’d be wandering into, but that didn’t matter. I was a Reede. We sucked it up and faced the storm, regardless of the odds. That was one of the enduring lessons from Dad’s stories. If he’d given up at the first hurdle, we wouldn’t be in each other’s lives.

  I washed my face and reapplied my lipstick. Usually, I didn’t use much more than a slick of gloss but I’d wanted to make a good impression on my first day. There were still more people I needed to see, even if I didn’t know how I was going to make it through. Or how I would cope for the rest of the time I was committed to stay.

  Once I’d made myself presentable again, I headed back up to Mr Richards’s office to discuss my schedule and team.

  “Did you meet the crew?” he asked as he invited me back into his office and offered me a seat with a wave of his hands.

  Sliding into the seat, I nodded. “Yeah. At least, some of them. Including the other driver.”

  He smiled across the desk at me. “Beau is a real asset to our team.”

  “I bet.” I ground my teeth together. Wringing my hands together under the desk, where Mr Richards couldn’t see them, I added, “I actually met him last June.” At least no one could say
I’d lied about anything if it came out later. “He inspired me to try my hand at this format.”

  He nodded, but his eyes scanned the paperwork in front of him.

  “Can I ask what happened with Cash? Some of the staff seem to think he was going to race here next year until the deal with Emmanuel went ahead.”

  Mr Richards glanced up at me. “A simple Google search will bring up his history. Cash is an excellent driver, but he’s also a liability. For the last half of this season, he’s been absent more often than on the track.”

  I whistled as the consequences of those actions became clear to me. If a driver did that to Dad, they’d be well and truly off the team. “The sponsors can’t have been happy with that.”

  Nodding in agreement, he studied me. Based on his wide eyes, I figured he was surprised that I understood the issue so readily. What he failed to realise was that I’d had my first sponsored race before my tenth birthday and Mum had been grooming me to handle sponsorship contracts for most of my teenage years.

  “So, he was probably going to be out next season anyway?” I asked, needing to know that I hadn’t actually been the reason Cash had been replaced. It wouldn’t change the way everyone else felt, but I would feel better about myself knowing that I hadn’t displaced another driver.

  “I can neither confirm nor deny that.”

  Even though it wasn’t the news I’d wanted, I nodded. “I understand. So when do I get to meet my team manager?”

  “You didn’t meet Jase before?”

  I shook my head. “I got a bit distracted with Beau,” I admitted. At least that wasn’t a lie.

  “You should head back down and introduce yourself. He’ll be the most important asset on your team, and you’ll both have to work very closely together during next year’s racing season.”

  “I understand.” I was about to ask to leave when I had another thought, something that would make my life easier in the short term. “Can I ask a favour? I’m looking at getting a fixer-upper bike. I don’t suppose I can steal a little real estate in the back of the shed and maybe borrow some tools until she’s sorted.”

  For a moment, he frowned and tapped his finger on the papers in front of him. “It’s a little unorthodox, but I’m sure we can spare a little room under the circumstances.”

  He gave me a toothy grin. Between that smile, his willingness to accommodate me, and what he’d said about Cash’s absences on the track, I couldn’t help but wonder whether the team had been in a bigger cash crisis than we’d thought. Had Mum’s sponsorship wheeling and dealing saved a failing company? I tucked the question away, holding it back for another day.

  “Thank you, sir. Do you need me for anything else today?”

  He glanced down at a piece of paper in front of him. “No. I think that should be it. We have a few photo shoots and feature articles coming up, other than that we only need you for testing and fitting these days.” He handed me a sheet of paper with dates listed on it. I was sure I had a similar list among my paperwork, but I took it anyway just in case anything had changed. “And you’ll need to build a name for yourself here. Nothing that happened in Australia counts here.”

  Swallowing down my apprehension, I nodded to confirm I’d understood.

  “Oh, and the first official meet-and-greet is tomorrow night,” he added. “You haven’t forgotten, have you?”

  Fuck. In the stress of meeting the team, the formal Halloween event to meet the sponsors the following evening had slipped my mind. When I’d learned it would be one of my first tasks, I’d been really excited. There was a magic at wining and dining events that couldn’t be emulated at work. I’d expected it to be a nice get to know you with the management and sponsors. It was doubly fun when I was able to do it in a costume. Now, I was dreading it.

  At least I’d brought a dress from home so I didn’t have to worry about that. It was a floor-length number my best friend, Angel, had helped me pick out. The dress was pretty and feminine, with a chiffon overlay that danced from an ocean-blue bodice to a pale turquoise skirt, adorned with countless diamantes. When we’d found it, Angel had said that it made me look like a real-life Disney princess.

  Her compliment mixed with the team’s words and spun in my head to fill me with dread. I was going to be at the party dressed as the epitome of what they’d accused me of being. A fucking princess. All that would be missing was the tiara.

  “No, sir,” I said, trying to ooze an enthusiasm I didn’t feel.

  “Have you got a costume organised?”

  “I do.”

  “You’re not wearing a mask, are you?”

  I hadn’t planned on it, but the way he asked made me wonder exactly why it mattered. “Why?”

  “We just want to make sure you don't cover your pretty face.” His gaze fell to my lips before lifting back to my eyes. “So the sponsors can get a good look at you, and you can prove your worth.”

  I narrowed my eyes. I’d rather prove my worth out on the fucking track where I belonged. “Will others be in masks?”

  He made a little steeple with his fingers. “Some might be.”

  “So I’m the only one being asked not to wear one?”

  He sighed. “If it is that important to you, wear one. I simply believe it’s important for you to make an impression on them rather than the other way around. After all, you're the unknown entity.”

  Unknown until I hit the track. Then I would show them my fucking worth was not tied up in my eyes, my body, or my face.

  “In the meantime, you can ask Jase any questions you might have about the car. Mary-Lou can help you find your way around town.”

  “Thank you, sir.” I stood, recognising the words as a dismissal. “I’m looking forward to being part of the team.”

  The entire sentence was a lie, but he didn’t need to know that. Especially when he had a line right back to Mum and Dad, and they could never find out how terrible my start at Richards Racing had been. Or how shitty the following year was shaping up to be.

  “It’ll be nice having some feminine charm in the team. Might keep the boys in control.” He glanced up at me and laughed. “If you don’t drive them all wild that is.”

  I tried to keep my smile in place and not have a go at him for his blatantly sexist remark. Trying to keep my tongue from lashing out, I asked one last important question that came to me. “Can I see the car sooner than these test days? Maybe today?”

  “You’re eager.” His gaze slid over me, as if sizing me up to determine whether I was ready.

  “I like to get a feel for my machines. The sooner I can get a read on her, the better.”

  “Sure thing. Why don’t you have Beau show you the ropes since he’s your inspiration for being here? I think he’s still around.”

  “Is there anyone else?” The words rushed from me even as my heart exploded in my chest at the thought of having to endure another of Beau’s hateful stares. More than that, I couldn’t listen to that voice take me through the details of the car or I’d end up in a pool of tears in no time.

  Mr Richards stared at me in shock, no doubt wondering about the cause of my outburst.

  Swallowing hard, and trying to calm my heart rate, I worked to keep the tremor out of my voice as I added, “It’s just that he has his fiancée with him, and I’d hate to bore her with it all.”

  “Very well, get Jase to show you.” His tone was dismissive, and I didn’t want to push my luck any further by asking where Jase might be. Instead, I thanked him again and left the office.

  As I left, I headed to Mary-Lou’s desk. She was the personal assistant to Mr Richards and the one he’d told me could help show me the ropes. She’d been one of the first I’d been introduced to, so at least I knew who she was.

  “Jason Freeport. If you go to the workshops, his office is third from the right after the lunchroom.”

  The lunchroom—where Beau and his buddies had humiliated me. Even though I didn’t want to go anywhere near it again, not just ye
t at least, it was clear I either had to get over it and show them I wouldn’t be fucked with—or else pack up and run home with my tail between my legs.

  Knowing I couldn’t take the second option—my pride wouldn’t allow it for one thing—I sucked down a bracing breath and headed to the back of the building where the pits were.

  Ignoring the little kitchen in case anyone was hidden in there, I followed Mary-Lou’s directions until I was in front of a closed office. A second after I’d knocked, a voice called for me to enter. I pushed open the door to find two pairs of eyes staring at me. Stationed behind the desk was one of the guys from the lunchroom. The one who’d first called me princess before Beau had taken up the nickname. He was a piggy little man. Short and stocky with a squat nose that turned up at the end and narrow eyes hidden beneath bushy brows.

  Sitting on the desk to one side of him was a handsome blond with perfect teeth and a hateful sneer. Him, I recognised as Cash, Beau’s friend and the guy who’d apparently been kicked out because of me. The two were clearly at ease with each other; both had been relaxed with matching smiles until I’d walked in. When they saw it was me, they exchanged a loaded glance and shared a chuckle.

  If they were friends, that put me on a bad stead for the rest of my year. My last hope was that I had the wrong office.

  “I’ll catch you later, Jase,” Cash said, patting the piggy man on the back.

  Without acknowledging me beyond another glare in my direction, Cash made to leave the office. When he reached my side, he started humming the chorus of a song. It took a moment for the melody to register, but when it did, my back stiffened. It was an old song, one he probably didn’t expect me to recognise. But I did. It was one Nana Reede listened to fairly often. “Easy like Sunday Morning,” it was called. Beau’s barb from the lunchroom—that he should call me easy—sprung to mind as I spun toward Cash.

  His smile grew as I glared at him, proving he’d intended the song to have exactly the meaning I suspected. Obviously seeing he’d hit his mark, he grinned and sung the words to the chorus. His laughter overtook the lyrics before he shut the door behind him.