element…
Trying desperately to hide from the ghost of a wrecked marriage…
And I had no idea where to find my client.
Doing my best to put my ex out of my mind, I lifted my sunglasses and scanned my surroundings, taking in the nearly empty grandstands and the high curve of the track. Even with the empty stands, an undercurrent of excitement filtered through the air and slowly seeped into my pores. Regardless of my severe aversion to stock car racing, I couldn’t help but feel a certain amount of anticipation begin to build and slowly replace the dread. Maybe Marcy was right. I needed this experience as a way to completely flush what my ex did from my system. After all, I shouldn’t really condemn an entire sport simply due to the actions of one man right?
I pondered that thought as I walked along the row of car haulers - in search of my client. When Wayne left, he’d hadn’t so much taken my heart as my confidence. For years he talked of joining NASCAR as a pit crew member. While his life was consumed with racing and he constantly worked the pits at local tracks, I’d never actually expected him to reach his dream job.
Oh sure, I’d spent many a Friday and Saturday night stuck sitting in the uncomfortable grandstands watching midget racing, open wheel, and sprint cars, supporting Wayne while he worked as a substitute pit crew member for various teams. However, I’d never expected him to be good enough for the big leagues of racing. He generally wasn’t the most ambitious man and, when he wasn’t working at the track, he spent his time lying around watching racing on television or sleeping. Outside of his NASCAR dreams, Wayne did virtually nothing. So when he’d sat me down to tell me he’d gotten a job with a NASCAR team, I hadn’t actually believed he would leave.
Maybe I was naïve. Maybe I’d closed my eyes to the truth in an attempt to save my fragile ego. In the end, nothing I did had mattered. He’d used me for money, broken me with his words and actions, then gone off to follow his dreams and left me alone to pick up the pieces of my sorry life.
Wayne’s cruel words resurfaced, reopening old wounds.
I’m in NASCAR now. I don’t need to fuck your fat ass. I can have any girl I want. A beautiful one – just like the one in our bed right now.
I swallowed down another lump while I searched for the red and white car hauler belonging to my client. Walking around aimlessly was only feeding my neuroses and I’d promised myself never to let Wayne hurt me again or know how badly he’d hurt me that night. No matter how vulnerab le I suddenly felt, I was damn well going to keep that promise. I would start by finding my client and quick.
I approached a man dressed in a green uniform with a battery company name on the back. “Excuse me.”
He turned and the smile on his face faded as he quickly assessed me. “Yes?”
Ignoring the repulsion that appeared in his eyes, I continued. “Can you direct me to the Hague Motor Sports hauler?”
The man arched a brow as his gaze raked over me yet again, then a look of disgust finally settled across his face. Heat flushed through my body as I struggled not to react. Yes, I was a big girl, but that didn’t mean I deserved to be judged like some farmer’s prize pig.
Turning away, he angled a thumb in the direction of a group of tractor-trailers beyond the garage area. “It’s that way. If you’re looking for Calen I think he’s out on the track right now.”
He appeared as if he wanted to say more. Instead, he returned to his task without another word.
“Thank you,” I murmured, remembering my manners despite wanting to slap him across the face for his quick leap to judgment. So what if I had bigger curves than most of the woman who were currently roaming the infield? My size wasn’t some measuring stick for how nice I was or whether I deserved to be treated with respect. Besides, it wasn’t as if I enjoyed being overweight. I exercised and
Trying desperately to hide from the ghost of a wrecked marriage…
And I had no idea where to find my client.
Doing my best to put my ex out of my mind, I lifted my sunglasses and scanned my surroundings, taking in the nearly empty grandstands and the high curve of the track. Even with the empty stands, an undercurrent of excitement filtered through the air and slowly seeped into my pores. Regardless of my severe aversion to stock car racing, I couldn’t help but feel a certain amount of anticipation begin to build and slowly replace the dread. Maybe Marcy was right. I needed this experience as a way to completely flush what my ex did from my system. After all, I shouldn’t really condemn an entire sport simply due to the actions of one man right?
I pondered that thought as I walked along the row of car haulers - in search of my client. When Wayne left, he’d hadn’t so much taken my heart as my confidence. For years he talked of joining NASCAR as a pit crew member. While his life was consumed with racing and he constantly worked the pits at local tracks, I’d never actually expected him to reach his dream job.
Oh sure, I’d spent many a Friday and Saturday night stuck sitting in the uncomfortable grandstands watching midget racing, open wheel, and sprint cars, supporting Wayne while he worked as a substitute pit crew member for various teams. However, I’d never expected him to be good enough for the big leagues of racing. He generally wasn’t the most ambitious man and, when he wasn’t working at the track, he spent his time lying around watching racing on television or sleeping. Outside of his NASCAR dreams, Wayne did virtually nothing. So when he’d sat me down to tell me he’d gotten a job with a NASCAR team, I hadn’t actually believed he would leave.
Maybe I was naïve. Maybe I’d closed my eyes to the truth in an attempt to save my fragile ego. In the end, nothing I did had mattered. He’d used me for money, broken me with his words and actions, then gone off to follow his dreams and left me alone to pick up the pieces of my sorry life.
Wayne’s cruel words resurfaced, reopening old wounds.
I’m in NASCAR now. I don’t need to fuck your fat ass. I can have any girl I want. A beautiful one – just like the one in our bed right now.
I swallowed down another lump while I searched for the red and white car hauler belonging to my client. Walking around aimlessly was only feeding my neuroses and I’d promised myself never to let Wayne hurt me again or know how badly he’d hurt me that night. No matter how vulnerab le I suddenly felt, I was damn well going to keep that promise. I would start by finding my client and quick.
I approached a man dressed in a green uniform with a battery company name on the back. “Excuse me.”
He turned and the smile on his face faded as he quickly assessed me. “Yes?”
Ignoring the repulsion that appeared in his eyes, I continued. “Can you direct me to the Hague Motor Sports hauler?”
The man arched a brow as his gaze raked over me yet again, then a look of disgust finally settled across his face. Heat flushed through my body as I struggled not to react. Yes, I was a big girl, but that didn’t mean I deserved to be judged like some farmer’s prize pig.
Turning away, he angled a thumb in the direction of a group of tractor-trailers beyond the garage area. “It’s that way. If you’re looking for Calen I think he’s out on the track right now.”
He appeared as if he wanted to say more. Instead, he returned to his task without another word.
“Thank you,” I murmured, remembering my manners despite wanting to slap him across the face for his quick leap to judgment. So what if I had bigger curves than most of the woman who were currently roaming the infield? My size wasn’t some measuring stick for how nice I was or whether I deserved to be treated with respect. Besides, it wasn’t as if I enjoyed being overweight. I exercised and
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