Read Online Sweet Carolina by Roz Lee - Free Book Online Page A

less one
her age.
    She'd heard it all. She was too young. She
didn't know cars or racing, or her head from a lug nut, even though
she'd grown up on the racing circuit, hanging out in most of their
garages at one time or another. She'd spent more time in the
Hawkins Racing garage than in school in the days before her father
sent her away. And as much as she hated those years away, they'd
been a gift of sorts. They'd given her the freedom to learn
everything she could about cars without her dad interfering. If
she'd stayed, he would have controlled her access to the scientific
and mechanical data she'd consumed like other underage kids did
alcohol – and she'd done it all without her dad knowing a thing
about it.
    She was capable of providing knowledgeable
input on the car's performance, and she had ideas that would make
Hawkins engines run better. Convincing everyone else her ideas
would work was going to be hard. And she'd never be able to do it
if she were sleeping with her driver, or anyone else connected to
racing in any way. From the NASCAR officials down to the pit crew,
they were all off limits.
    That meant her life was her work. Even if the
company could afford the kind of staff it needed, Caro would still
be here, putting in ridiculous hours by anyone's standards –
because she had something to prove.
    She needed to prove to NASCAR, to the fans,
to her team and to herself her dad had been wrong. Maybe they were
right to believe not just any woman could own and run a successful
race team, but there was one woman who could. Caro Hawkins could.
And she was going to prove it or die trying.
    * * * *
    Dell throttled up as he came out of turn
three, only to throttle back down again as he made it into turn
four. With the backstretch ahead of him, he throttled up again and
made another run at the lead. Only twenty laps to go, and victory
was within his grasp. The adjustments Caro ordered to the fuel
injection worked. After four hundred and eighty laps, the car still
purred like a kitten, and ran like a cat with a pitbull chasing its
ass.
    “Nineteen to go,” Caro's voice came through
his headset. “We've made a good showing today,” she said.
    “We're not through yet,” he countered. Not
by a longshot . He'd be damned if he was settling for second
when there was only one asshole between the checkered flag and him.
It was all in the timing. He checked the fuel cell gauge and
mentally calculated if he had enough to finish without pitting.
He'd been getting good mileage all day – a benefit of Caro's
adjustments. Tires were another thing. The new pavement here ate
tires.
    “Can somebody calculate the fuel for me?” he
asked as he ticked another lap off. “I think I can make it if there
isn't a caution, and if I don't have to make more than one run at
the leader.”
    “Calculating now,” Caro said. Dell waited.
Finally, she came back on. “It's going to be close, Dell. If you
had fresh tires…”
    “I'm not pitting now. Five more laps and I'm
making my move.”
    “You don't have to do that, Dell. Hold your
position,” Caro said.
    “Behind you,” Jeff warned from the spotter's
roost above the press box. “Closing fast.”
    “Damnit,” Dell said as he jerked the wheel to
the right to cut off the car making a bid for his track
position.
    “You need new tires, Dell,” Caro said.
    “No new tires! I've got this,” he said. He
held off the challenge for five more laps. As he came out of turn
four into the front stretch, he throttled up and rubbed bumpers
with the lead car. “Come on, asshole, move over,” he mumbled. The
15 car held his piece of track and Dell eased up against his bumper
again. The lead car shot out ahead of him and Dell followed,
kissing his bumper every chance he got. “Move it, lard ass,” he
said.
    “Dell, what are you doing?”
    Dell ignored the panic in her voice and
nudged the lead car again.”You wanted to win, Caro, this is how
it's done.” He counted to ten and asked,