composure from the anger that is welling up inside me.
“Why do you have to be such an arrogant son of a bitch?” I don’t hold anything back. My tone and choice of words evoke a range of emotions across his beautiful face.
Ryan raises an eyebrow at me. “Arrogance is my best form of defense. Haven’t you figured that out already?”
Huh? Defense against what?
The dumbfounded look on my face causes him to change tact immediately. Ryan himself has a defeated look on his face that makes me think that he slipped and said too much. I don’t understand his emotions, but he doesn’t give me the opportunity to think it through.
“Well…let’s see!” Ryan starts. “As you so eloquently put it in the boardroom, my job is to drive the race car. I don’t like to get caught up in the day-to-day bullshit that involves running a race team. It’s not my thing. My focus is driving my car to win races and to win championships. Everything else should fall into place. However, lately, my support team is failing me, which is why I have to come into the office to make sure everyone is doing their job. And I don’t like it. It makes me ill and, as you say, arrogant.”
I open my mouth to speak, but Ryan lifts his hand, signaling me to stop. “I am not about to apologize to you, or anyone else, for that matter, for the way I am. I am who I am. That is why I am a hell of a race car driver. And, yes, I need an excellent support team at all times to guide me with the little things like sponsorship commitments, appearances, and such. All I know is driving the car, so I need someone that I don’t have to babysit. Got it?”
I don’t respond, but I don’t break eye contact with him either.
“Look, Whitney,” Ryan explains, a little calmer, “you don’t understand this. But I was born into this…into this sport. It is in my blood. Stock car racing is all I know. I need someone who understands that. I need someone on my team that has grown up in NASCAR and that can relate to how it operates. I don’t need someone that has never even watched a damned race on television. Do you understand?”
He finally gives me an opportunity to respond. Words finally come to me with his last statement. “Oh! You also need someone that isfuckable, too, right? Don’t forget that requirement! And I guess I don’t fit that bill either.”
Ryan furrows his brow. “Annalise?”
I nod.
“Not that it is any of your damn business, but that was my mistake.”
I rebound again. “Mistake? Hell, from what I hear, you have made several of those since the new season started.”
Ryan paces the kitchen floor. “Yes, I crossed the line with her, only because I knew it wasn’t working out.”
What!
“I have to have someone who I can trust to guide me each weekend to get me through the extracurricular activities that accompany my sport. I don’t have the time or the luxury to wrap my head around those things. I only want to drive my car. And I just haven’t found that right person this season. I thought Annalise would be a good fit.”
I snort at Ryan as he continues his explanation while rolling his eyes at me.
“Her family roots run deep in NASCAR, and we had a good working relationship until I crossed the line and complicated things. In the end, I knew she couldn’t be trusted.”
Why?
I wonder.
Ryan runs his hands through his brown hair again. “I don’t know how to explain this to you. You just can’t understand this, Whitney, because you don’t know me or my sport!”
I take my eyes off his and look down. I don’t want him to see the hurt look wash across my face, but I am too late. I am sincerely trying to do my best, but I don’t think that will ever be good enough for him, no matter how much I learn.
Ryan immediately stops his tirade. “Damn it, Whitney! Don’t look at me like that. God! You make me feel like such an ass.”
“You are!” I shout back, crestfallen. Tears spring to my eyes again, but I push them back
“Why do you have to be such an arrogant son of a bitch?” I don’t hold anything back. My tone and choice of words evoke a range of emotions across his beautiful face.
Ryan raises an eyebrow at me. “Arrogance is my best form of defense. Haven’t you figured that out already?”
Huh? Defense against what?
The dumbfounded look on my face causes him to change tact immediately. Ryan himself has a defeated look on his face that makes me think that he slipped and said too much. I don’t understand his emotions, but he doesn’t give me the opportunity to think it through.
“Well…let’s see!” Ryan starts. “As you so eloquently put it in the boardroom, my job is to drive the race car. I don’t like to get caught up in the day-to-day bullshit that involves running a race team. It’s not my thing. My focus is driving my car to win races and to win championships. Everything else should fall into place. However, lately, my support team is failing me, which is why I have to come into the office to make sure everyone is doing their job. And I don’t like it. It makes me ill and, as you say, arrogant.”
I open my mouth to speak, but Ryan lifts his hand, signaling me to stop. “I am not about to apologize to you, or anyone else, for that matter, for the way I am. I am who I am. That is why I am a hell of a race car driver. And, yes, I need an excellent support team at all times to guide me with the little things like sponsorship commitments, appearances, and such. All I know is driving the car, so I need someone that I don’t have to babysit. Got it?”
I don’t respond, but I don’t break eye contact with him either.
“Look, Whitney,” Ryan explains, a little calmer, “you don’t understand this. But I was born into this…into this sport. It is in my blood. Stock car racing is all I know. I need someone who understands that. I need someone on my team that has grown up in NASCAR and that can relate to how it operates. I don’t need someone that has never even watched a damned race on television. Do you understand?”
He finally gives me an opportunity to respond. Words finally come to me with his last statement. “Oh! You also need someone that isfuckable, too, right? Don’t forget that requirement! And I guess I don’t fit that bill either.”
Ryan furrows his brow. “Annalise?”
I nod.
“Not that it is any of your damn business, but that was my mistake.”
I rebound again. “Mistake? Hell, from what I hear, you have made several of those since the new season started.”
Ryan paces the kitchen floor. “Yes, I crossed the line with her, only because I knew it wasn’t working out.”
What!
“I have to have someone who I can trust to guide me each weekend to get me through the extracurricular activities that accompany my sport. I don’t have the time or the luxury to wrap my head around those things. I only want to drive my car. And I just haven’t found that right person this season. I thought Annalise would be a good fit.”
I snort at Ryan as he continues his explanation while rolling his eyes at me.
“Her family roots run deep in NASCAR, and we had a good working relationship until I crossed the line and complicated things. In the end, I knew she couldn’t be trusted.”
Why?
I wonder.
Ryan runs his hands through his brown hair again. “I don’t know how to explain this to you. You just can’t understand this, Whitney, because you don’t know me or my sport!”
I take my eyes off his and look down. I don’t want him to see the hurt look wash across my face, but I am too late. I am sincerely trying to do my best, but I don’t think that will ever be good enough for him, no matter how much I learn.
Ryan immediately stops his tirade. “Damn it, Whitney! Don’t look at me like that. God! You make me feel like such an ass.”
“You are!” I shout back, crestfallen. Tears spring to my eyes again, but I push them back
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