Stacked Deck. Terry Watkins
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move out. It was purely a defensive maneuver on my part to keep control of the car.”
Once out in the French countryside, he opened up the car. They were driving the roads of the Grand Prix now and she was loving it. Beth felt as if she were in a movie, or the actual race, taking in mile after mile of some of the best-known roads in the world. She let herself relax as JD took complete control of this fantastic machine. It was thrilling to watch his transformation, from Southern gentleman to a totally focused racer who loved the thrill of an open road and a grip on the steering wheel of a fast car. The smells of the night and the nearby ocean flowed over her from the open windows as they flew along the narrow streets. The Bugatti hugged the road as if it was on rails; the G-forces, when he cornered and then opened it wide, were like taking off in a fighter jet.
Though the shifter in the Bugatti was nothing like the type on the wheel that was used in Formula One, JD shifted gears so smoothly she wouldn’t have known except for the change in the whine of the engine.
He slowed, and glanced her way. “What do you think?”
“I think I need one of these,” she purred. She wanted to tell him to keep going, continue driving the course until daylight, but she knew that was impossible. It was time to get down to business if she was ever going to find out the details behind Giambi’s blackmailer and uncover his connection to her father. She was here in Monaco for a reason, and that reason didn’t include racing around the countryside with an incredibly charming man in an obscenely expensive car…or did it?
He laughed, and for a crazy instant she thought he could hear her thoughts. She stiffened as he said, “It’s really an amazing piece of machinery. Salvatore drives it like it’s a damn golf cart.”
She relaxed again, and sat up in the seat. “That’s terrible for the engine.”
“This car is a racehorse. It has to run.”
“Absolutely. I couldn’t agree more.” They passed a small bar with people spilling out onto the sidewalk in front of it. “That place looks like fun. Can I buy you a drink?” Beth asked.
JD pulled in behind the bar. The small quaint town had cobblestone streets and dim street lighting. The place almost looked magical.
Before he could get out, she touched his arm and said, “JD, I’m a professional at reading people. I play poker with the best in the world. What are your instructions? Giambi didn’t send you on this escort mission in the middle of the night without a purpose.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
She decided to put it right to him, get their situation clear. She said, “I’m sure you are. Look, it works both ways. You’re supposed to either woo me, or check out if I’m really serious. You’re on a mission. We’re going in to have a drink and get to know each other. I like you. I know what kind of talent you are. I’m very familiar with your career and when I heard you might be coming back into it, and that you were with Giambi, a man with a shady past and financial issues, I decided to see what I could do. I have a lot of money and I want to invest it in a sure thing. So let’s be honest with each other. Okay?”
“Okay,” he said, but his eyes told a different story. His gaze had darted behind her for just an instant, and she immediately picked up the truth.
Beth smiled. Well, JD, you’re lying through your pretty bleached teeth, but I’ll play along for a while. “Great. I’m so glad we can be honest with each other.”
At least she now knew how to read JD. So far, so good.
He escorted her in through the back door of the bar.
The bar was extremely noisy. Everyone inside was into a soccer match on the TV above the bar, so JD took her out onto the patio where they could have some privacy.
They ordered drinks and chatted about racing, then she jumped right back on him.
“So tell me. What are Salvatore Giambi’s concerns?”
He took a sip of his vodka martini before answering. “I don’t really know, other than he just wants you to get a good feel for what we’re about. See the high-tech shop he’s building. Get to know what you would be investing in. Which, of course, includes me.”
“It’s important we learn to trust each other,” she said, trying once again to get him to open up to her. “I’m potentially investing in Giambi because of you, not him.”
“So what’s this all about?” JD sat back and studied her, his eyes burning into hers. His entire disposition had changed in a heartbeat. Gone was the smooth, cool Southerner. Now she was looking at a tough sell, but she’d already learned he was very susceptible to the Anne Hurley type, and she was all in.
She leaned on the table toward him, knowing her breasts were in full view. His gaze immediately dropped, and a rush of heat swept over her. She lingered in the moment, enjoying it, then sat back in her chair. “Like I said, I’m not interested in Salvatore Giambi.”
“So what exactly is this about? You want me to leave Giambi for another team? Is that where we’re headed here?” His voice was sharp, taught, defensive.
“Right now, he doesn’t have a team. And he may not get one. What I’m interested in is you. With or without Giambi.” She had his attention now. “It’s the talent I’m looking at. I want to invest in Giambi not because I want to be a silent partner in his racing team. I know his financial woes. I know his precarious situation here in Monaco. Giambi might not last very long.”
“What do you mean? You know something we don’t know?” He moved in closer, sliding his chair up to the small round table.
“Yes. But right now you need to understand where I’m coming from. I have the money that it takes in this game. I have the desire and I’m going to be involved in buying, building and running a winning Formula One team. That’s going to happen, period. It’s not a question. And I want the best drivers in the world on my team. I think you’re one of the very best talents there is. But you need the right people on your team and the right equipment.”
“And Giambi’s not the right guy?”
“That depends on his future. If he’s got a financial problem, which he does, compounded with political problems, that changes things where he’s concerned. So I have to know something about you.”
“I’m an open book.”
Another lie. She couldn’t seem to get him to drop his act. She’d have to try a different tactic.
“What is your top priority?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is it loyalty to Salvatore Giambi, or is it your desire to get back into Formula One racing?”
“I’m a loyal kind of guy. He’s done a lot for me and I wouldn’t betray him, if that’s what you’re asking.” He did a short fugue with his fingertips on the table. She couldn’t make the tune out, but Beth finally felt as if the door had opened just a crack.
She said, “I’m not talking betrayal. If he couldn’t make it work for you, would you walk to another offer?”
“If he couldn’t make it work, then yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Look, I’m a racer. I’m not anything else. I don’t want anything else. I want to race. I’ll do what I need to do, within limits, of course, to get back into the game.”
His eyes held her gaze. He was finally telling the truth. Gotcha!
“Good. We’re beginning to understand one another.”
For the next forty minutes and two more drinks, JD listened to Anne analyze the world of Formula One and how she intended to conquer it. The woman knew more about racing than he did. She knew every team, every driver and his results for the last ten years. He was amazed and highly impressed.
He