I just stare at her, trying to hide the truth, silence being my only answer. I don’t want to let her know that she’s getting to me. That her little bitchy comments are starting to poke under my skin and feed the insecurities that I have in regards to why Colton likes me.
“Well, it won’t be long now, then.”
“’Til what?” I ask, already assuming what she’s going to say.
I can see her move her tongue around the inside of her mouth as she thinks of how to best phrase her next spew of venom. “I’ve seen enough of his hussies come and go to say that I’ll give you two months tops, doll. You’ll be out of his bed and his life before the first race of the season.” She squints her eyes, glaring at me, waiting for the reaction I won’t give her. She takes a step closer to me. “Just know that it’ll be me he turns to then. It’ll be me telling him he’s too good for someone like you. I told you. I’m. The. Voice. In. His. Ear.” She whispers the last words to me.
“And let me guess, it’ll be you he finds happily ever after with, right?” I retort, my voice sugary sweet despite the ire bubbling beneath my surface.
“Eventually, once he’s done biding his time with bimbos like you,” she chuckles, eying me up and down. “You’re smart. I’ll give you that. But I’ve known him longer than anyone, and I’ve put in the time. His parents love me. I’m the only one he needs. He may not realize it yet, but he does love me—”
“Looks like you need to find something better to do with your time, doll,” I say rising from my seat and taking a step closer, fed up with her egocentric diatribe. “Waiting around to be second best must be really frustrating.”
“A little testy are we? Don’t shoot the messenger,” she patronizes, holding her hands up in front of her, “I just thought I’d save you the inevitable heartbreak.” The look on her face reflecting the exact opposite of her words.
I manage a single laugh. “Yeah, I can see the sincerity oozing out of your pores.” I roll my eyes. “Your compassion is just overwhelming.”
She purses her lips. “Us girls have to look out for one another.”
Now I really laugh. What a bitch! “Yeah, I’m sure you have my back!” Just with a knife pointing into it rather than your eyes looking out for it. “I appreciate the heads up, but I’m a big girl, Tawny. I can take care of myself just fine.”
She throws her head back and laughs loudly before eying me up and down again, a look of disdain on her face. “Oh, he is going to eat you alive and then spit you out, and I am so going to enjoy watching it!”
I see Colton complete his last lap and swing the car into the pits to the right of us. The boys will come looking for me any moment to go down and see the car, and frankly, I’ve had enough of Tawny’s little “let me put you in your place” tiff. I’ve tried to take the high road. I’ve tried to not be the catty bitch she’s being. But enough’s enough. I take one step closer to her, my voice a spiteful whisper. “You better get used to watching, Tawny, because that’s all you’ll be doing. When he cries out a name, it’ll be mine, sweetheart.” The corners of my mouth turn up, my voice implacable, “Not yours.”
“That’s what they’ve all thought!” she snorts derisively.
How I’d love to throttle her right now. Wipe that sarcastic smirk off of her face and show her she has no clue what she’s talking about. But I can’t. In the end, she may be right. And that kills me. Reminds me I need to keep my guard up. I give her the same, slow appraisal that she’s given me, and I shake my head in disinterest. “This conversation has been stimulating, Tawny, but I’m going to go spend time with people that are worth my breath.”
I rush down the stairs quickly, wanting to make sure that I get the last word in. At the bottom of the stairs, I walk toward where I can hear the engine of Colton’s car. As I turn the corner, I see my boys following Davis down to the garage area of the speedway. I hurry to catch up, trying to let the anger and irritation from Tawny’s words dissipate.
I try to shrug it off and tell myself that she’s just a catty bitch trying to hold on to something that’s not hers. A drop-dead-gorgeous catty bitch, but a catty bitch nonetheless. I think the combination of her being his type and my fear that there is some truth to her words is what keeps the anger running through my system.
I catch up to the group just as we approach the garage where Colton’s crew has set up. The purr of the engine stops, and I see Colton hand the now-detached steering wheel to a crewmember before slowly pushing himself up from his capsule. He lifts one leg over the side and then the other to stand on the ground. He takes a moment to settle on his legs before removing his helmet and the white fireproof balaclava from his face. He accepts the Gatorade that someone hands him and takes a long pull on it before running a hand back and forth through his sweat-soaked hair. Colton gives the man who approaches him a huge grin and it takes me a moment to place him. He is the rakish gentleman who was at the Merit Rum party with him.
I stand back with the boys on the fringe and take in the flurry of activity in the garage. Several people are talking to Colton, who gesticulates with his hands to demonstrate what he is explaining. They converse with him in a casually comfortable way. No hint that he is the son of a mega-super director or that he’s one of Hollywood’s it bachelors. Other crewmembers are tending to the car, using instruments to measure things I can’t even begin to fathom. Colton is completely immersed in his element. It’s not hard to sense his enthusiasm and veneration for his sport.