Stacked Deck. Terry Watkins

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СКАЧАТЬ 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.

      Beth stopped dead. “Oh, my God!”

      “You like?”

      Beth’s knees went weak. “Are you kidding. A Bugatti isn’t a car. It’s the speed of light captured in metal.”

      She touched the hood with her fingers, gently, as if touching a work of art, an exotic sculpture. “I was at the London auction two years ago where one of these babies went for one-point-five million Euros. I came very close to buying it and have regretted not doing so ever since.” In truth, she couldn’t remember ever having seen this car before.

      She stared for a moment at the world’s most powerful sports car, the Bugatti Veyron. This one was a bright red metallic with a black pearl configuration. “It looks alive.”

      “Turn the key and you’ll see some life. Maybe the finest road machine ever built,” JD said. “Let’s take her for a spin.”

      He flipped the keys in the air and snatched them with boyish glee.

      She had the distinct impression Giambi didn’t give up his prize possession often or easily. It told her a lot about how he felt about JD. Or her.

      “You’re the first person Giambi has ever let me take for a ride in his car. You’re one special lady.”

      “I feel duly privileged.”

      JD watched her reaction to the Bugatti, enjoying how her eyes widened. He appreciated her understanding that this was no ordinary sports car.

      He was equally impressed that she not only knew the car, but had nearly bought one. There was something else about her he couldn’t put his finger on, but it was an attitude thing. Beneath all the sophisticated elegance of a super-rich widow was something wild, and he couldn’t wait to get to know that aspect of her personality.

      Anne Hurley didn’t wait for him to open her door. Instead, she slid into the narrow passenger seat and eased herself into it. The Bugatti wasn’t built for comfort, it was built for speed.

      “This baby flies,” JD said. “Only street car that gives me the same feel as a true racing machine.”

      “Anything that can go zero to sixty in two-point-four seconds better give you that racing feel.”

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