Without Limits: Austin (Rugged Riders Book 4)

A
ustin Clark was
my first date, my first love, and I thought he’d be my husband. But he chose his NASCAR career over me and then skipped town to join a racing team. I spent months drowning in sorrow about a relationship with Austin that could never be. Even Austin’s best friend, Rick, felt jaded by his actions to leave everything behind. Together, we got over Austin and I married Rick. After all, life goes on.

N
ow nearly four
years later and right after my devastating divorce from Rick, Austin Clark returns to town. To make matters worse, he’s also the private investor who saved me at the last minute from having to sell my dress boutique. Once known as the poor kid from the opposite side of the tracks, Austin is retired from NASCAR and has become a wealthy business tycoon. The tables have certainly turned, which leads me to wonder if his return has everything to do with getting back at me for marrying his best friend and nothing to do with making amends.

W
ill
you have dinner with me this Sunday night at 7pm? Please call me to confirm and discuss details. - Austin.

With shaky fingers, I re-folded the dinner invitation and stuck it back in the envelope. I tried hard to subdue the hurt and betrayal of past memories as they came surging back through me.

“Oh no. I know that look.” Rebecca exclaimed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“It’s nothing,” I mumbled.

“You’re planning on saying no to him, aren’t you, Valerie?” Rebecca continued. She huffed and rested back on the counter and crossed her ankles. “He saved your shop from going bankrupt. Don’t you think it would be a little rude to decline a dinner invite from the businessman who helped you out?”

I sighed and tossed the invitation on the counter with a stack of bills. “Austin Clark and I have a complicated history together. I’m just not up for re-living those moments.”

“Well, what kind of history might that be? It can’t be that bad if he satisfied your debt to the bank.”

“Look, this happened a long time ago. And unfortunately, I’m over that too. This is strictly a business deal. I don’t see how me sitting with him over dinner translates to business,” I said. “Let’s just get the rest of these dresses up in the store. I have a bridal party coming in tomorrow morning for a fitting.”

“Valerie, you have to stop wallowing in solitude. Get your life back. Get out some. You’re too young to do this to yourself,” Rebecca said.

I turned around and threw Rebecca a warning look. “I’m hardly wallowing in solitude. I’m so over Rick that it’s not even funny, and you of all people know that. Besides, I’m hardly living in solitude. I’m here at the shop working every day with my customers. I have business to tend to…like now.” I pointed the boxes that the UPS delivery guy had just dropped off. “If I want to continue making profits or to even begin to pay back this loan, I have no time to wallow or to entertain dinner invites. I’m sure Mr. Clark would understand that as I’m certain he’ll be expecting another payment on the loan which is due by the end of next week.”

Rebecca shrugged and sighed deeply. “All right.”

I could tell that my shop assistant wouldn’t stop trying to convince me that going to this dinner meeting was a good idea. Rebecca had easily become one of my best friends and a shoulder to cry on throughout the last year of my sordid life. She’d been there for me through months of divorce proceedings. And she’d even stood by my side when the banks came calling to collect payment on a loan that my ex-husband Rick had taken out by using the dress boutique as collateral to cure other obligations. I almost wondered if Rebecca would walk away one day. After all, I was a complete mess and my current state of affairs only seemed to be getting worse. I was one last straw away from giving up on everything. My business. My love life. Everything.

“Well, if you’re not going anywhere Sunday, me and a few friends are having drinks by the pool that afternoon. You can stop by, if you’d like,” Rebecca mentioned again as they began to unbox and tag the new merchandise.

“Sounds like that’s what I need at this point.”

“Great, just give me a call tomorrow and let me know if you’re still game.”

After the boutique closed for the day, Rebecca left to go attend her night class over at the university and I remained behind like I always did most evenings. With fall and winter being the most popular wedding seasons here, I had to reach out to vendors to replenish my stock or I wouldn’t have anything to sell. I was just lucky that I had the capital to go through with the purchases this time. Just two months ago, I planned to sell my dress boutique to highest bidder or I was prepared to let the bank take it back when a representative from an investment firm called Zyken Partners visited my shop wanting to front me the funds to pay off the debt to get the business up and running again. They would profit from the deal by executing a small business loan and by taking a small percentage of profits over the next nine months. After consulting with my lawyers and having them go through the loan paperwork, which seemed too good to be true at the time, we decided that the deal would be my one and only chance to keep my business. So I took it. Only to find out a few weeks later that the owner of the company was none other than Austin Clark. Womanizer. Liar. Cocky son of bitch.

My hostile feelings toward Austin made me want to cancel the whole agreement, but I thought better of it. This was a business agreement and nothing more. He never even showed his face during the entire execution of the agreement. So it was very odd that the bastard would now be inviting me to have dinner with him. Why was he even here in town? Last I heard he was doing business overseas.

I closed up my laptop and reached for the invite. I opened it once again and read over the words for the tenth time, trying to read between the lines and trying to figure out his true intentions. His phone number was listed just below his name. I recognized it as the same number that had called me at least once a day for the past month. And coincidentally, I’d screened calls all month long after I found out from some old classmates that Austin was, in fact, moving back to town. I was perfectly fine with talking to his assistants where business was concerned. Was this his final attempt to try to get me on the phone with him? Would hearing his voice again after all these years take me over the edge…again?

And why? Why on Earth was he moving back here? To open up an old wound and throw salt in it? Four years ago, he hauled ass without any explanation leaving his friends and family behind. The only time anyone ever heard about Austin Clark during his absence was about his rise in fame within NASCAR and then again when he retired as a millionaire.

I wasn’t disgruntled. I just wasn’t going to let any man screw me over again.

As dusk began to fold in, I decided to take my work home. I grabbed up my laptop and stuffed all the mail into my handbag. I needed something stronger than the coffee for times like these. And I needed the serenity of a nice warm bath to soothe my nerves.

No matter what, I wouldn’t let Austin get to me again. I wouldn’t let him ruin my outlook on life like he did when he left me behind.

This dinner proposition was about business. Nothing else. Later tonight, I would call to accept the invite and then prepare myself mentally to reunite with Austin again. I would tell him how much I appreciated him for fronting the money to save my business. I would pay off the loan as quickly as possible and hope that Austin disappeared into thin air again just like he did before.

A
s I mixed
the pasta and clam sauce together in the pan, the doorbell rang. I turned off the stove and grumbled the whole way to the door. I was expecting a few packages from FedEx, so I thought nothing of it when I swung my apartment door open, hoping to find a stack of boxes.

But neither the boxes nor FedEx guy were on the other side of the door.

Standing on my doorstep, looking like a sick puppy in distress was none other than Rick, my ex-husband. In that instant, I realized that the only way I’d be able to successfully avoid my past was to move away without a word to anyone and never look back.

Just as I was about to slam the door in Rick’s face, he placed a palm on it.

“Please don’t.”

I folded my arm across my chest. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to ask you something.”

“As far as I’m concerned, you and I have nothing to say to each other. Any unresolved matters should go through the lawyers,” I told him.

“I know, but this is personal.” He shuffled his feet. “Can I come in?”

“No, you can’t. What do you want?”

“I need some help…” He glanced up at me with his baby blue eyes—the one’s that reminded me of the sky. “I owe some money to this guy and I just really need your h—”

This time I did slam the door in his face, maybe even on his face, but as I’d come to learn over the years of being married to Rick, he was unrelenting. He rang the doorbell and knocked at my door. I had my cell in my hands and contemplated calling the cops, but I feared that if he got locked up again, he wouldn’t get out this time. I almost wished that I didn’t give a crap about what happened to my ex, but I was only lying to myself. After all, I was only a human being capable of forgiving. I desperately wanted Rick to get on with his life and out of my life so that I could just forget everything and move on with mine.

I took a deep breath and pulled the door open again. “What is it, Rick?”

“Remember that guy from the bar across town that I was doing business with,” he asked.

My mind drew a blank, but at this point my hungry belly was more important than a guy across town at a bar or Rick.

“No, I don’t remember.”

“Dustin Ferraro, remember? The guy whose uncle works for the mob.”

I shrugged. “I met him like once when we ate lunch there, why?”

“I owe him some money and I really need your help,” he started.

I grabbed hold of the door again and intended to slam it in his face yet again. I couldn’t remember how many times I had slammed doors in Rick’s face since our divorce, but I was now a pro at it. The bad part about hat was that Rick could now anticipate when the door was going to be slammed in his face.

He held up his hand. “Please. I don’t know who else to turn to.”

Of course, he had nowhere else to go. He wasn’t even on speaking terms with his parents, who’d also been a victim of his latest shenanigans. I exhaled in aggravation.

“Come in,” I said.

I gave him another once over inside the foyer. He looked worried and sick as a dog. His hair was a mess on his head and it appeared that he hadn’t shaved in three days. Even though I wasn’t in love with Rick anymore, I still cared about him. Me falling out of love with him didn’t happen overnight. Instead, my love for him diminished over a period of time when I begin to question my commitment to him, and more importantly, his commitment to me. And when I found out about his betrayal and bad money habits, I decided to break my promise about spending the rest of my life with him. Now as he stood here in my doorway looking like a sick puppy dog, I wondered if our relationship was doomed from the start. Did we jump into marriage too soon? Was he ever mature enough to handle me?

“Are you going out or something,” he asked, catching me off guard.

“Rick, what is this about?” I had no intentions of answering his question.

“I need like five hundred dollars to get me through the week.”

“No—”

“Listen, I had to pay a part of the debt or Dustin would have sent people after me.”

“You should have thought about how you were going to pay all of these people when you took their money,” I said. “Oh, I’m sorry…when you stole their money.”

“I didn’t steal money.”

“Taking money without making plans to pay anyone back is stealing.”

He shrugged. “If that’s how you look at it.”

“Rick, you gambled everything away. On your forty thousand dollar a year salary, you played hot shot with ballers, henchmen, and the mob, and whoever else you came across. You spent nights on end at casinos, getting wasted and jumping into bed with God knows who. You…”

“I never cheated on you, Valerie,” he said, adamantly. “Never.”

“I don’t trust you at all,” I said. “Not about that. Not with my life and not with my safety. You put both of us in jeopardy. I’m paying for your mistakes every day. My entire savings was stripped away from me because of your gambling problems. Heck, I even almost got my business snatched away from me. I almost ended up jobless and on the streets because of you. How could you come here asking for help? For more money?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t have it.” I turned my back on him and walked back into the kitchen where I poured the contents of my meal into big bowl. “You’re going to have to get a second job if you plan on paying back all the debt.”

“I know,” he said. “I’m working on that. I’ve been interviewing in the city.”

“Which reminds me…the lawyer said he sent over some paperwork for you to read over and fax back to him about the proceeds from the sale of the house. It’s been over a week and he says you haven’t responded.”

“Oh, yeah.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I’ve been meaning to get to that.”

“It needs to be done like yesterday. There’s a joint tax bill still lingering around that needs to be paid with it.” I scooped some pasta into smaller bowl and grabbed a fork.

“That looks good,” he said. “What is it?”

“Linguine and red clam sauce.”

“Best seamstress in town and an even better cook. You were always good with your hands. Am I worthy enough to have dinner with you anymore?”

He smiled.

I groaned and rolled my eyes. If that was supposed to be some attempt to woo me, then he’d failed. Like the dozens of other times he tried. Reluctantly, I placed my bowl on the table and filled a bowl for him.

“Thanks.” He took the meal and sat down at the small two-seater kitchen table with me.

I remained standing at the kitchen counter with my back to him. I still had a load of work to do and seven A.M. would be here sooner than I wanted it to. I flipped through the newspaper as I ate, hoping that Rick would eat and leave quickly.

“There’s a career fair at the Marion hotel in the city next week. Banking jobs, sales jobs…all kinds of jobs. You should go there,” I said.

Along with everything else going on in Rick’s life, he’d also lost his job as a finance manager at a logistics firm here in town. The only steady paycheck he had at this point was with the temp agency. I figured the busier he stayed, the less inclined he’d be to cling to me. Obviously he didn’t get the memo or didn’t care to follow the unwritten stipulation that finalizing a divorce with your ex meant living separate lives from here on out.

“I heard about it. I’ll try to make it,” he said.

Finally, I turned around. “Look, don’t make this a habit of showing up here unannounced. When I told you that we could remain on speaking terms, I didn’t mean for you to come over here and harass me for money. I have to start over from scratch just like you do, therefore I’m not in a position to give you money.”

“Yeah, I get it. I thought maybe since you found the extra cash to keep the dress shop that maybe you had something stashed away that I didn’t know about.”

I rolled my eyes. “And if I did? My savings account balance is none of your business at this point.”

“Well, then, how did you save your shop then?”

“You know what? You’ve enjoyed enough of your meal here.” I slid the empty bowl away from him and pointed to the door. “Leave.”

Rick frowned. “Fine. I’m sorry I upset you.”

“I don’t even know why I let you in here.”

He pushed off from the table and made a straight path toward the door. He stumbled into the entry table in my foyer and sent a vase of flowers and my handbag crashing to the floor.

We dove at the exact same time to pick up my belongings and our heads collided together. We came up cursing. My head throbbed uncontrollably.

“You know what? Just go,” I breathed.

“All right. I get it. I’m not wanted.” He pushed the mail that he’d picked up from the floor into my palm.

The moment that Rick turned to leave, I noticed a very distinctive notecard in his path. The dinner invite that Austin Clark had written to me lay on the doormat only mere inches from Rick’s shoes. Before I could interject, he bent down to pick it up. When he turned to face me again, I knew from the pained expression on his face that he’d read the note.

I took the notecard from him and snatched the door open.

“Really?” Rick shook his head. “Is this why you’ve been trying to get rid of me the whole time?”

I swallowed. “No, Rick. It’s not what it looks like.”

“I find that hard to believe. How long have you been talking to him?”

“I haven’t been talking to him.”

“Austin Clark invites you to dinner and I’m getting tips that he may be back in town, and you want me to believe that you haven’t been talking to him?”

I held up my left hand and pointed to my ring finger. “You see this? This is what the freedom to do whatever the fuck I want with whoever the fuck I want looks like. And for your information, I didn’t even know Austin was back in town. Get out! I was having a semi-perfect evening until you showed up and ruined it.”

“Do you know what I think of Mr. Hot Shot Austin and this lame attempt to get with my ex-wife?” He grabbed the note from my hand and tore it into several tiny pieces before laying them out on the table in my foyer.
“Trash.”

“You bastard.” I shoved him toward the door. “Stay far away from me. The next time I see you, I won’t be able to control what I do to you. Don’t come back!”

He opened his mouth, but I shut the door in his face. I vowed that day that I would never answer my door to anyone unless I was expecting them.

My semi-perfect evening had turned into a horrid night. I took a very cold shower and called it a day, leaving my work unfinished.