Terry Watkins - Stacked Deck

“Like hell you are.”

“I’m taking the Bugatti. She’s class, like you say. First class. So I’m taking a first-class automobile. She deserves a good ride. She’s young, sexy, rich and looking to save our asses. Don’t you agree?”

Giambi couldn’t believe this kid. “You starting to enjoy the idea now?”

“The lady likes racing and gambling and I’ve got a feeling she likes guys about a third your age. The keys, please.”

Giambi shook his head. He handed over the keys. “You better not scratch anything. And don’t be racing. Every cop in France has you on their speed-demon list. You know that.”

“I’ll save it for the track,” JD said, slipping the keys into his pocket.

Beautiful, smart young women are wasted on young guys, Giambi thought with a touch of resentment. Older men know a woman’s value, know how to treat them. That was one of the many things he hated about getting old. Age was a nasty little thief. It robbed you a little each day. First one thing, than another, until you became an empty shell stripped of everything worth living for, then age killed you without dignity.

I have fifteen good years left, he told himself again.

It had been his mantra for years. He borrowed it from some big business guy. Maybe it was the one who once ran GE, but he couldn’t remember the guy’s name because he couldn’t remember anybody’s damn name.

On the way back to rejoin Anne Hurley, Giambi rested his hand on JD’s shoulder. “Just so you understand something. I want nothing more in this world than to see you back on the race circuit. The troubles you’ve had in the past are over. A man with your talent has to be given a second chance and I’m doing everything in my power to get it for you. Just go along with the program.”

“I’m with it. You know I am.”

“And remember, I didn’t survive all these years in this business by not knowing what has to be done. I like this woman. She’s got brains behind the beauty and that can be a dangerous combination. You start thinking with the wrong head and before you know it, she’ll run a game on you.”

“She doesn’t strike me as the game-playing type.”

“That’s just it. When they’re good, you never see it coming.”

“You suspect everybody of running a game on you?”

“They all would, if they could. I don’t let ’em. Now go find out who the hell we’re dealing with.”

Giambi watched JD walk into the bar flipping the keys in his hand. As angry as he got at JD from time to time, he had to admit he loved the kid like a son. Cocky and wild as JD could be at times, he was talented.

Giambi wanted to see him fulfill that talent. Become the next Michael Schumacher. Unfulfilled talent was, in Giambi’s opinion, about the greatest crime a person could commit in this life.

Beth watched the two men as they stood toe-to-toe just outside the entrance to the piano bar. It appeared that Giambi was doing most of the talking and JD most of the listening, though there were some moments when the driver definitely held his own.

She hid her bemusement at the mixed expression on JD’s face when he came back into the bar alone. He gave her the eyebrow shrug, as if to say it’s not you, it’s him.

The more she watched him, the better this race driver looked. He had a rugged handsomeness that appealed to her.

JD stared at her, spinning his keys around his finger. “You want to go for a ride?”

“Sure. I spent so much time in a race shop as a kid, if I don’t see one from time to time I feel deprived.”

“Well, let’s take care of that. We don’t want anyone feeling deprived. About anything.”

Whatever other “plans” he’d had, he’d been forced to put them on the back burner. Things were definitely going her way, and she liked the powerful feeling it gave her. She liked to be in control of the situation. It made the task much easier.

As they headed out of the bar she said, “I’m also excited about seeing what could be my next big investment. I hope it’s not interfering too much with your other plans.”

“Not a problem,” JD said. “You are my top priority at the moment.” He actually sounded sincere.

“Whether you like it or not?”

He chuckled. “I don’t think the night will be a complete loss.”

She liked his tone and sense of humor. “I’ll do my best.”

Giambi had started talking to someone, but as they were passing he turned to her and said, “Have fun. JD, show the lady what we’re all about.”

Repeating the words she’d just used, he said, “I’ll do my best.” He exchanged a knowing glance with her.

She told Giambi that she’d see him later and they could continue their discussion.

“I look forward to it.”

When they shook hands, Beth held his just a second beyond what would have been normal, throwing a smile at this repository of secrets. “I have a feeling we’re going to be doing some business together.”

“I believe we will,” Giambi replied cheerfully. “Most definitely.”

In the elevator Beth was still curious about the date that JD had given up for her. She needed to know if it was something that might potentially be a threat to her. “I hope I didn’t mess up a date with your girlfriend.”

“Haven’t got one. It was just some people from Hollywood who wanted me to show them around. They’ll be here for a few days so it’s no problem.”

No threat there.

“Scouting movie locations?”

“Actually, a couple of them are interested in investing in racing. And, maybe down the road, we can talk about coming up with a script.”

“Starring JD Hawke?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know if I’m much of an actor. Maybe a supporting role.”

“You have a good look for the screen,” Beth said, gazing into his eyes. “The strong, mischievous type.” She gave him a warm smile.

“You still need to be able to act.”

“You’re kidding, right? How many movies have you seen lately?”

“Hey, don’t knock Hollywood. I thought The Matrix was great.”

“Too many special effects.”

“Yeah, but Keanu Reeves is the king of the demon ride, which I do appreciate.”

“What’s that?”

“He likes to ride his motorcycle at night with no lights at high speeds. Nearly killed him a couple of times.”

“Sounds more like a death wish ride.”

“He’s had a tragic life, but he doesn’t let it make a wallflower out of him.”

“More like a funeral bouquet, if he keeps that up. A lot of people have tragic lives—they don’t deal with it by going on demon death rides.”

He shrugged.

She smiled. Arguing with a racecar driver about risky driving was something of an oxymoron. Besides, deep down inside, she was a little reckless with speed herself, but she didn’t like to admit it openly.

When they exited the elevator into a small, private garage, she said, “I want to see the shop, but that’s just an excuse.”

“For what?”

“Getting to know you. If I’m investing in somebody, I want to know who they are. Not just by reputation, or from other people’s opinions. Knowing people is how I do business.”

He gave her a slow nod. “Okay. Sure. I’ll do the best I can to give you what you want.”

“Good.” She aborted the sexual comebacks that immediately came to mind. “If you know a nice quiet bar where we could have a drink first, that would be great. We’ll see the shop later. The night is young.”

“There’s a place on the way that’s real nice.”

They walked toward a group of cars.

“You don’t have family in Formula One?” she asked.

JD shook his head. “They’re all gear-heads. But I’m the rebel. My brother’s in NASCAR, my dad, too. But I always had a thing about open wheel. Went from midgets right to the Indy Racing League and on to Formula One.” He paused, then pointed. “We’re taking this baby,” JD said as they walked around a pillar and headed for a car that took Beth’s breath away.