Hart's Victory (6 page)

“Just me? Or some other guys whose autographs I could probably get for you if you’d like them?”

“Oh, would you? My grandma loves�” Charlie said, mentioning another driver. “But she’s come over to the Hampton Racing camp this season. We watch every race and yell for you. Unless you wreck or fall way too far behind. Then we yell for him.”

“Does your mom cheer for me?” Hart asked, looking at Kellie.

Charlie wrinkled his nose, answering for her. “Mom’s not really into NASCAR. She’s been in a few car accidents�none her fault�and so she says she doesn’t want to watch. Even though she was fine, they shook her up pretty bad. She’s been rear-ended three times. What’s the probability of that?”

“I don’t know,” Hart said. “On the track it’s called bump-drafting. What tracks do you like best?”

“Grandma and I like the ones on the superspeedways best, the restrictor plate ones like at Talladega. Short tracks are okay and just as exciting, but I like the longer tracks best since the cars can spread out more and really get up to some good speeds.”

“Have you ever seen a race in person?” Hart asked.

“No,” Charlie said, shaking his head.

“Not even at the track in Myrtle Beach?”

“Nope,” Charlie replied. “Grandma always says she doesn’t want to sit outside in the hot grandstand, and Mom’s not that much of a fan to ever consider going. I’ve always wanted to check it out, though.”

“Well, that’s got to change,” Hart said. He glanced at Kellie as if to say, “Right?”

“I doubt that’s possible,” Kellie responded. “We take life day by day.” Her voice held a note of warning, and she wasn’t surprised when Hart chose to ignore it.

“Everything’s possible,” he told her, that famous dimpled chin of his jutting forward. “What are you doing next weekend?”

“Watching the All-Star Challenge?” Charlie asked. “Grandma and I have it marked on our calendars. My diet is pretty restricted to keep me healthy, but on race nights we get to eat pizza. It’s my weekly indulgence.”

“I love pizza, too,” Hart said. “And I’m glad you’re planning on watching the All-Star Challenge because you’re going to be watching it from my pit box. I have some extra seats that you can take.”

“What?” Charlie’s expression turned into one of a kid who’d just learned Santa Claus was real. “Are you serious? Mom?”

“I’m very serious,” Hart said, ignoring Kellie’s open mouth. “I get to be in the race since I won Daytona, and I want you to join me as my guest. That means you, too, Kellie.”

“I…” Kellie started. Charlie’s face practically glowed with unrestrained joy. She glared at Hart. “We can’t possibly…”

“Of course, you can,” Hart interrupted. “There’s an infield hospital if you’re worried about Charlie’s condition and the need for emergency medical care. My aunt and uncle will be there, and I’ll have them be your guides while I’m driving. Charlie, I bet my crew chief, Wally, will even put you to work. You could monitor the weather for us.”

“Really?” Charlie asked. Kellie hadn’t seen her son’s eyes brim with this much excitement in years.

“Yep. Just be prepared, for it’s loud, even with headphones. The noise is nothing like you hear on TV. It can rattle your bones.”

“You’re really serious?” Charlie confirmed once more, his excitement turning to unabashed awe.

“Absolutely,” Hart said, grinning. “I already said I was, and I’m a man of my word. Give me all your contact information and it’s a date. Bring your grandma, too.”

“We’ll be there,” Charlie said. “Right, Mom?”

Kellie knew she had to be wearing a stunned expression, but that was far better than the fury that she trying to contain. How dare Hart just blow through her wishes? She wasn’t a car to move out of the way. But Hart seemed oblivious to her anger, and he reached around and grabbed some official Hart Hampton merchandise. “What’s your grandma’s name?” he asked.

“Anita,” Charlie answered. He watched as Hart autographed the color picture, “To Anita, with love, Hart.”

“That’s for her,” Hart said as he passed the eight-by-ten color glossy over. “And this is for you.” Hart autographed a picture for Charlie and then he took another picture from the stack and scrawled out a phone number that started with a 704 area code. “This is for your mom. That’s my cell phone. That’s should prove how serious I am. Very few people have that number.”

“Thank you,” Charlie gushed.

Clarissa reappeared and Kellie could see a family of eight approaching about a hundred yards away. “Our time’s up,” Kellie said, anxious to get out from under the tent.

“I guess it is,” Hart replied. He glanced at her. “Why don’t you and I talk later tonight and get all this set up for next weekend?”

“Charlie and I…”

“It’s parents’ night out, so I’m sure Charlie has plans to be with his new friends,” Hart cut in smoothly.

“I do,” Charlie said. “Brad and I are going to see the movie.”

“So do you have a little free time in between your networking to meet with me?” Hart asked, and Kellie knew he’d trapped her.

“Fine,” she stated. “I’ll see you after dinner.”

“My motor home,” Hart said. “We can talk there.”

Kellie gave an erratic wave of agreement and hopped off her chair. “Let’s go, Charlie. We have some time to do a craft before lunch. Your grandmother would love a lanyard key chain.”

“Sure,” Charlie said. He stood and followed his mother.

H
ART WATCHED
Kellie flee the tent, for that was really the only word for it, Charlie already ecstatically speaking in her ear as he followed.

Hart turned around. Clarissa had an odd expression on her face. “You just invited that boy and his mother to the race next weekend.”

“Yeah, I did,” Hart said, grinning. He was pretty proud of himself. “Did you see how happy it made him?”

“Did you see how angry your actions made her?” Clarissa asked gently. Around the shop, she was known as everyone’s mom or grandma.

“I saw,” Hart admitted with a sigh. Then he stood his ground. “But tough. That boy deserves a break. He’s ill. She can stop being difficult for one weekend.”

“Difficult?” Clarissa questioned.

“Can’t you see that she hates me?” Hart said with a dismissive wave. “I come to this place and find the one woman who could care less that I drive a race car. She thinks I should keep my clothes on and turn away my number one sponsor. And her son, he’s just a gem. I admit, I’m taken with that kid. Reminds me a bit of me at that age.” His tone turned defensive. “If I can make him happy, then hey, I’ll do it. Cynthia wanted me to have some good PR. Imagine how my aunt will spin that next weekend.”

“What, off at camp, come home with a stray? These are not people you toy with,” Clarissa warned.

“I’m not,” Hart said, noting defensively that Kellie had said the same thing.

“Humph,” Clarissa said. If there were more to her spiel, it would have to wait, for the next family had reached the tent. Hart plastered a smile on his face and turned to greet them.

He’d settle all of this silliness with Kellie tonight. Charlie deserved to be happy. So did Kellie.

It was three o’clock that afternoon before Hart realized that Charlie hadn’t told him what he wished for.

A
T
6
P
.
M
., Kellie knew she had to put a stop to this nonsense. All day she’d heard nothing but how wonderful Hart was, and how excited Charlie was to be viewing the All-Star Challenge from Pit Road. Kellie closed her eyes for a moment, shutting out the western sun. In twenty-four hours, her life had tilted on its axis and she wasn’t quite sure if Hart Hampton was finished upending her world.

She approached his motor home, noting that the letters spelled out the make of the RV across the front. Hart’s motor home was as long as a charter bus. A matching trailer was still attached, adding to the length. She and Charlie had seen a tour bus special on a country music video television station. Those buses had cost somewhere in the millions. She assumed Hart’s motor home had to be the same.

A stool waited outside the door, which opened as if by magic, or rather, because Hart must have been waiting for her. He stood at the top of the stairs, wearing a different polo shirt and jeans than he’d had on earlier. She’d changed, as well, into a pair of knit sport pants and a short-sleeve sweater. She’d also showered and wore her hair long, straight down to her shoulders.

“Come on in,” he said. Kellie reached for the support bar and climbed up. A movable wall divided the driver’s area from the rest of the motor home. “Welcome to my weekend home. What can I get you to drink? Unlike the dining hall, I’m privy to the location of some libations on this bus.”

“A diet cola is fine,” Kellie said. Anything alcoholic might cloud her brain and weaken her resolve. As she followed him into what served as his living area, she couldn’t help but be impressed. So this was how the other half traveled.

Hart’s motor home was phenomenal. Wood gleamed, and because of the home’s slide-out feature, his living area was quite spacious. A huge plasma screen TV was set into the wall section above the driver, and two other television screens were also popped out of their normal hiding places. All were tuned to the race.

“That’s where I should be,” Hart said as he passed the couch and went into the tidy kitchen area. He pointed as a reporter stood in front of Hampton Racing’s pit. “There’s my car and Ricky’s going to drive it.”

Kellie wasn’t sure what to say, so she simply stood there as the young pretty female interviewed a young driver standing outside of the Elementals Number 413 car.

“So do you like my home?” Hart asked, changing the subject as he reached into a refrigerator and removed a soda can.

“It’s nice,” Kellie said as Hart passed the diet soda over. Their fingers touched briefly. Kellie took the can and glanced around the room.

Hart shook his head. “Again, you impress me by being so honest. Everyone else either gushes or fall all over themselves fawning over me. Personally, I think it’s a bit overdone. Go on. Have a seat,” Hart said as he retrieved a beer for himself. “Another one of my sponsors,” he said as he held up the microbrewery brand.

“Beer and underwear,” Kellie remarked as she sat on the dark burgundy sofa. The room was done in dark, masculine colors, masterfully designed to coordinate while still feeling spacious. The room had windows, but they’d been covered with matching opaque shades.

“Beer and underwear.” Hart shook his head as he removed the bottle cap. “You don’t have to say it, I know what you’re thinking. All I’d need to be complete would be to have a men’s magazine sponsor me and put some bunny ears on my car. You’re probably wondering, why couldn’t I be sponsored by one of those home improvement companies? Or at least something more respectable, like candy or office supplies. But no, my two top sponsors are booze and boxers.”

“Actually, I wasn’t as concerned with that as much as I was hoping we could talk about next weekend. I’d like to see if there’s a way you and I could agree to cancel Charlie’s going.”

“No,” Hart said, shaking his head. He took a seat in a huge, comfortable recliner just a few feet away and kicked his feet up onto the footrest. He had an excellent view of all the television sets, but his attention was focused fully on Kellie. “I’ve invited Charlie to the track, and I’m a man who keeps his word. You agree that he’s excited?”

“It’s all he’s talked about,” Kellie said, sipping the diet cola.

“So how can you say no? He wants this.”

She shook her head, willing him to understand. “Yes, but I don’t.”

“You’d break his heart by saying no.”

Kellie set the can into a conveniently placed cup holder. “There’s more to Charlie’s medical condition than a broken heart. Charlie sometimes doesn’t know what’s best for him. He’s fragile. Too much exertion can have him suffer a relapse. I can’t risk that.”

“You can’t keep him in a bubble. He’s almost sixteen,” Hart pointed out. “You brought him here.”

“Only because my mother filled out the paperwork and insisted I sign it. And this camp is prepared for kids like Charlie. It’s designed for them. Charlie’s special. He’s been through so much.”

“And so have you,” Hart said. “Let me take care of him for a weekend. Let him live the fantasy. He can hang out with my team. We can have him sitting up on the pit box monitoring the local weather. If he’s up to it, he can be in charge of my water bottle.”

Kellie cocked her head slightly. “Those are jobs?”

“Actually, yes,” Hart said. “Every guy in the pit usually has a role in helping me win my race. I even have a spotter up in the stands with a bird’s-eye view so that he can radio me what’s going on. When I’m driving, the only view I have is immediately in front and directly behind me. The only voices I hear are my spotter’s and my crew chief’s. Come on, Kellie. Let Charlie live a little. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“I’m not even sure what that is,” Kellie replied.

Hart opened both arms wide, his bottle wobbling in his left hand. “You’re seeing it. Here I am, on a Saturday night, sitting in my motor home. If I don’t fly home after a race, this is usually where you’ll find me. My wild nights before a race will find me hanging out with some of the guys racing remote control cars or watching a movie. This is as exciting as it gets.”

“Yeah, right,” Kellie said dubiously. “You’ve been backstage at rock concerts. You have a different girlfriend every month. How can I be certain I’m not intruding on her?”

“Because I’m not dating anyone and haven’t been for a while. So my entire focus next weekend, besides winning, will be on Charlie, and on you,” Hart said.

Kellie’s eyes widened. “That sounds rather scary.”

“It’s not. You don’t have to trust me or like me, but you should at least believe me. I’m a good guy despite the hype.” He grinned and tapped his fingers on the armrest. She noticed he had large, proportional hands.

“What if I don’t want this?” she countered.

He didn’t seem fazed. “You should. Your son wants this. I want this. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I don’t know why you’re so fearful of adventure. Let yourself go and live a little.”

The air-conditioning must have been set low, for Kellie shivered. Hart was lounging in a chair and still his mere words tugged at her. Her life had enough drama in it just dealing with Charlie’s medical problems. If she added the emotional turbulence of dealing with Hart…“You don’t get what you want all the time.”

“If I got everything I wanted, I’d already be a NASCAR NEXTEL Cup champion. But this is a good idea. Say yes.”

“I still don’t think I should,” Kellie said. “It’s like opening Pandora’s box. Things won’t be the same.”

“And why would that be?” Hart parried. “What excuse can you give me that’s valid enough for you to say no and deny your son’s happiness?”

“My simple ‘no’ should be enough,” Kellie insisted.

“And normally, as I have a great respect for people, especially women, your ‘no’ would be enough,” Hart agreed. “But these aren’t normal circumstances. Your son is ill. This may be his one and only chance to hang out at the race track, during the All-Star Challenge, of all things. You’d deny him that once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?”

Kellie bent her head and placed it in her fingers. Her head ached. “My life is simple. As peaceful as I can make it with Charlie being as sick as he is. My world is not this, this moneyed existence. How can he go back to watching races on TV once he’s smelled the burning rubber?”

“I don’t know,” Hart said. “But he will. He can. Race fans do it all the time. Just think, this way Charlie will have a memory to take with him forever.”

You don’t understand! Kelly wanted to scream. She knew Charlie. The family joke, it would take on new life. Become real.

And it couldn’t be real. So much that Charlie wanted was already denied him. Her life was a small house in Myrtle Beach. Hart Hampton could not enter the mix. But he had. He’d already upset everything.

Sensing her turmoil, Hart rose and moved to sit on the sofa beside her. “It’s all going to be fine. Just believe.”

“I can’t,” Kellie said, straightening. “You don’t even know us. I know more about you, but then I know nothing at all. Like why my son? Why me?”

“Because,” Hart said simply.

She craned her neck over her left shoulder to gape at him. “Because?”

“Yeah,” Hart said. “You can fill in whatever blank you want. I crashed because. My life sucks because. I’m not at the track because. I’ve learned that it doesn’t matter what comes after the because. There’s always a reason, or an excuse. Some right, others wrong. Bottom line is that it all comes down to what you want. And I’ve decided I think this is a great idea. I like your son. He reminds me a bit of myself at that age. Maybe he might be a lucky charm who can help me get my winning streak back. All I know is that my brain tells me this is the right move, just like when it tells me to risk going topside into a corner instead of holding the inside groove down low.”

“I admit, Charlie will love this. You’ve been more than generous. But my mother won’t want to go. She’s had the opportunity several times before and just laughed and said she’d rather watch the race on TV in the comfort of her home than be out in the elements.”

“One of the armchair fans. She’s not alone, if the ratings are any indication. I can put her up in the Hampton Racing box, if that helps.”

“That’s really sweet of you,” Kellie said, her resolve weakening. “But I still have a feeling she’ll say no and it’s going to have to be me. I’m really not a NASCAR fan. I usually only catch the tail end, when they wave the checkered flag. I don’t want to be sucked into your world.”

“And I respect that,” Hart said. “It’s another reason that I’m drawn to your family. You have no expectations. You don’t want anything from me. Do you know how rare that is? How refreshing?”

“I suppose rare,” Kellie said, looking at him. He was so near she could smell his aftershave. She bit her bottom lip, tugging at it with her top teeth.

“Very rare,” Hart countered. “We’ll have a great time. Charlie will be happy. And that’s what you want most in this world, isn’t it? Your deepest wish? That your son be happy?”

“Yes,” Kellie said as her attitude toward him softened somewhat. “Yes, that’s what I want.”

“Then let me make him happy. Let me give him this.” Hart covered her hand with his.

His hand warmed hers, calmed and convinced. It also hinted at something more, something dangerous. It made part of her long dead flicker and come alive.

“I’m not going to have a choice, am I?” she asked.

“No,” Hart said. “This is the right choice, Kellie.”

The TV suddenly roared to life; the race had started.

“Stay and watch it with me?” Hart asked. “I’ll give you some pointers for next weekend.”

“I’d better leave,” Kellie said, withdrawing her hand from his. His touch had disturbed her equilibrium�made her remember she had her own needs. “Just tell me how this is going to work and what arrangements I need to make.”

“You don’t need to do anything,” Hart said. “I’ll arrange for a car to pick you up. Can Charlie fly in an airplane?”

“Yes.” She nodded, her hair dancing on her shoulders.

“Good. I’ll have a car pick you both up take you to the airport. You’ll fly to Charlotte, and I’ll have a member of Hampton Racing staff meet you and bring you to the track. Just tell me when you want to arrive.”

“I don’t know,” Kellie said, honestly.

“Then I’ll have you fly in Friday morning. I’ll already be at the track, so you can meet me there. You and Charlie will stay with me.”

“No! We can’t stay with you,” Kellie stated with determination. “You’ve already been very kind, but we’ll get a hotel.”

Hart smiled and patted her hand. “The hotels are booked and I didn’t mean
stay with me.
My parents are in Europe. I’m going to have their motor home brought to the track for you and Charlie. It’s like this one, only decorated differently, and you and Charlie will have it all to yourself. That way, if either of you decide you have to get away from the action on the track, you can escape. Hampton Racing also has a condo that overlooks the track, but I’d rather have you and Charlie infield. That’s where the action is. Besides, my aunt and uncle are probably using the condo to entertain.”

“Your parents’ motor home is fine. Thank you for understanding.” She again freed her hands, breaking the connection. She stood and reached into her pocket and drew out a folded piece of paper. “This is my phone number. You call me by Wednesday to confirm. If I don’t hear from you by then, I’ll assume you’ve changed your mind.”