Casten is usually
too busy to actually get the ordering done so I suggest you start soon.” Olivia rolled
her eyes. “It won’t get done and Jameson gets pissed off when that happens. First
rule, don’t piss off Jameson.”
“Noted,” I looked up at her. “What do you mean Casten’s too busy?”
I was suddenly very interested in his schedule.
“He’s the lead engine builder. He comes in at like four in the morning sometimes and
usually doesn’t leave until after eight at night, except for Tuesdays. In between
that time he’s either building engines or on the phone with manufacturers and suppliers.
He barely has time to sleep, let alone order parts.”
“Why don’t they have someone do that for him?” The thought seemed logical to me.
“They do,” Olivia laughed pushing the binder at me again, “that’s you.”
Just one person I’m shackled to. Oh great, bring back the pornographic images.
Damn, I should have brought extra panties today.
“So I should go down there now?” I drew in a deep breath trying to calm my nerves.
Olivia winked. “Yes, go down there.”
I didn’t like the way she said down . It was as though she knew I wanted to go down on Casten.
Christ Almighty, it’s hot in here.
After a pep talk, a trip to the bathroom to make sure I didn’t have anything in my
teeth, I made my way down under. With my note pad tucked under my arm, Jameson smirked
as I stood and walked toward the door. I swear all he did was smirk. I glared at him,
his smile just got wider.
What professional gesture did I offer this racing legend?
I flipped him off.
How many people can honestly say they’ve flipped their boss off during their first
week of work?
Well, now I can mark that off my bucket list.
As I walked downstairs, my steps were not steady, I may have tripped and smacked my knee on the railing but eventually I made
my way down to take orders.
The music was blaring what I knew was The Beastie Boys and “Brass Monkey.”
“Great song,” I said to myself, mostly.
Charlie was the first bay. I dumped my coffee in his stall as I walked by. He didn’t
really notice me but did shake his head, not entirely surprised I did that but kept
his focus on the engine bobbing his head to whatever beat was blaring through his
iPod. More than likely Britney Spears or Justin Bieber.
Noah had his back turned focused on whatever he was doing to the engine on the table
in front of him.
I didn’t see Casten so I asked Lane, who was near the shop doors loading an engine
into the JAR Racing hauler backed up to the doors.
Lane grinned with those sparkly bright blue eyes and pointed to the opposite end of
the shop towards the last stall near three large windows that looked out to the parking
lot.
So that’s where I went, notepad in hand while the guys smiled. Why they were smiling
wasn’t really a concern but had me a tad nervous. Sometimes, okay, most of the time
I felt like these guys had some kind of secret they weren’t sharing.
Regardless, I kept walking to find Casten.
Though I’d been down here a couple times now, I hadn’t taken in the full view. The
shop they all worked in was huge. Around eight thousand square feet, white and gray
walls, red trim with black checkered flags in the middle of the concrete floor.
I wondered what my ass would look like sitting on those very flags with Casten between
my legs.
Sick. Get your mind out of the gutter, you little tramp .
I walked right past Casten’s stall and nearly into the wall before I heard his velvet
smooth voice on the phone. “Fine, don’t believe me, Rager,” he chuckled, just like
his dad had done a few minutes ago. “But I’m telling you right now, if we don’t rebuild
it the same thing is going to happen in Chico. You’ve got at least thirty races on
it already.”
Oh, sweet Jesus! Look at that ass.
He turned sharply when he heard my heels clicking against the concrete
too busy to actually get the ordering done so I suggest you start soon.” Olivia rolled
her eyes. “It won’t get done and Jameson gets pissed off when that happens. First
rule, don’t piss off Jameson.”
“Noted,” I looked up at her. “What do you mean Casten’s too busy?”
I was suddenly very interested in his schedule.
“He’s the lead engine builder. He comes in at like four in the morning sometimes and
usually doesn’t leave until after eight at night, except for Tuesdays. In between
that time he’s either building engines or on the phone with manufacturers and suppliers.
He barely has time to sleep, let alone order parts.”
“Why don’t they have someone do that for him?” The thought seemed logical to me.
“They do,” Olivia laughed pushing the binder at me again, “that’s you.”
Just one person I’m shackled to. Oh great, bring back the pornographic images.
Damn, I should have brought extra panties today.
“So I should go down there now?” I drew in a deep breath trying to calm my nerves.
Olivia winked. “Yes, go down there.”
I didn’t like the way she said down . It was as though she knew I wanted to go down on Casten.
Christ Almighty, it’s hot in here.
After a pep talk, a trip to the bathroom to make sure I didn’t have anything in my
teeth, I made my way down under. With my note pad tucked under my arm, Jameson smirked
as I stood and walked toward the door. I swear all he did was smirk. I glared at him,
his smile just got wider.
What professional gesture did I offer this racing legend?
I flipped him off.
How many people can honestly say they’ve flipped their boss off during their first
week of work?
Well, now I can mark that off my bucket list.
As I walked downstairs, my steps were not steady, I may have tripped and smacked my knee on the railing but eventually I made
my way down to take orders.
The music was blaring what I knew was The Beastie Boys and “Brass Monkey.”
“Great song,” I said to myself, mostly.
Charlie was the first bay. I dumped my coffee in his stall as I walked by. He didn’t
really notice me but did shake his head, not entirely surprised I did that but kept
his focus on the engine bobbing his head to whatever beat was blaring through his
iPod. More than likely Britney Spears or Justin Bieber.
Noah had his back turned focused on whatever he was doing to the engine on the table
in front of him.
I didn’t see Casten so I asked Lane, who was near the shop doors loading an engine
into the JAR Racing hauler backed up to the doors.
Lane grinned with those sparkly bright blue eyes and pointed to the opposite end of
the shop towards the last stall near three large windows that looked out to the parking
lot.
So that’s where I went, notepad in hand while the guys smiled. Why they were smiling
wasn’t really a concern but had me a tad nervous. Sometimes, okay, most of the time
I felt like these guys had some kind of secret they weren’t sharing.
Regardless, I kept walking to find Casten.
Though I’d been down here a couple times now, I hadn’t taken in the full view. The
shop they all worked in was huge. Around eight thousand square feet, white and gray
walls, red trim with black checkered flags in the middle of the concrete floor.
I wondered what my ass would look like sitting on those very flags with Casten between
my legs.
Sick. Get your mind out of the gutter, you little tramp .
I walked right past Casten’s stall and nearly into the wall before I heard his velvet
smooth voice on the phone. “Fine, don’t believe me, Rager,” he chuckled, just like
his dad had done a few minutes ago. “But I’m telling you right now, if we don’t rebuild
it the same thing is going to happen in Chico. You’ve got at least thirty races on
it already.”
Oh, sweet Jesus! Look at that ass.
He turned sharply when he heard my heels clicking against the concrete
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