Chapter 123 Spy Games
Butterflies buzzed around in Case’s stomach as if they were actually dragons, or bumblebees at the very least. Charlie was chatting away, telling him all about how beautiful Leslie was, how smart, how she was a smart-aleck, just like he liked ‘em, but Case was having trouble paying attention.
His game-face was on. They had a team meeting, followed by one last press interview for him, and then the driver’s meeting before the race. Now was the time for him to really focus in on the race and not worry about anything else.
Whiskey had gone home Thursday after he wrecked his car and failed to make the race, so that was one less problem to worry about. He and Gordon Jones had made up the other night, so he thought the other driver wouldn’t do anything to purposely wreck him either. Unless Stewart Antony suddenly had it out for him because of Sarah, it should be a clean race.
Case was looking forward to having the opportunity to show what he could do behind the wheel without anyone trying to sabotage him.
“She likes action movies, too,” Charlie was saying. “I told her we could maybe go see one tomorrow, before we head home. But she’s got class. Can you believe that? She’s gonna sing at the biggest race in the world, then make it home for class in the morning. Ain’t she just the most dedicated person you ever heard of?”
“Yeah, Leslie’s great,” Case said with a smile, glad he’d been listening well enough to acknowledge the statement. “Seems like she likes you, too.”
“You think?” Charlie was looking at Case now and almost took out an old woman with a cane trying to cross in front of them. Case pointed and made a grunting noise, and Charlie turned the wheel, glancing back in front of him only long enough to steer around her. “You really think so?”
“I do. But if you go to prison for running over a helpless granny in the middle of the road, she might not like you anymore.”
Charlie chuckled. “I got this, boy. You leave the drivin’ to me.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“Hey, now, who came in second last weekend at the shoot out? You or me?”
“You—but only because someone wrecked me.” It had been over a week, but Case was still upset about that.
“Still, none of that matters. It’s what’s written on the scorecard that goes into the records, friend.”
He knew Charlie was just teasing him, so he let it go. Charlie was a skilled driver, but he didn’t have the same level of equipment and personnel Case had. It made all the difference. They arrived at the place where the team meeting would be held, and Charlie found a parking spot. They were at the garage where Case’s car was housed, Charlies next to it, and most of the rest of the team members were there already.
Before he got out, Charlie turned to Case and said, “Do you really think she likes me?”
“She seems to, Charlie. Just remember, her last boyfriend was a real jerk who was hitting on Andrea behind her back. So Leslie’s got some trust issues at the moment. Take it slow, show her you care about her, make some grand gestures—like flowers and notes, etc.—and I think you could win her heart.”
“Thanks, Case. I appreciate you arranging for me to pick her up and everything. I have a good feeling about this.”
Case smiled, glad Charlie had finally found someone he liked. “Me, too.” He meant it, too. He was much happier with Charlie dating that sister of Andrea’s than, heaven forbid, him dating the other. No one who knew what was good for him would date Sarah. Yet, she was there, at the race track, because of Stewart. He could feel her presence already. He just hoped she didn’t find a way to mess this race up, or else she’d better be prepared to pay for it.
As the two of them got out and walked into the garage, Case glanced around. He had a feeling someone was watching him, but he couldn’t see anyone.
“You okay?” Charlie asked.
Thinking he might just be acting paranoid, Case said, “Yeah. I’m fine.” Still, he glanced around one more time.
He almost didn’t see her. But a cloud passed from in front of the sun, glinting off something from atop the garage across the way, and she realized that was a pair of binoculars, focused on him. Sarah was over there—spying on him.
Case swallowed hard. She was there to cause trouble; he just knew it. He’d have to tell his team to make sure someone had eyes on his car the whole time or else she’d probably mess with it the same way she had his golf cart. Flat tires on a racecar were a lot more detrimental than they were on a golf cart, and Case didn’t want to be driving two hundred miles an hour when all four tires suddenly went flat. That would be catastrophic—and potentially deadly.
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