He held out his arm for her. She shut the door and he led her toward his car, which was a pickup truck, so he had to help her climb into that, too.
“Sorry. I trailer it and bring it everywhere we go. It’s my favorite ride.”
“It’s no problem,” she said as she buckled up her seat belt, then held on when he fired up the engine, which sounded as loud and rumbly as a race car.
“Sweet, huh?” he asked with a grin.
She offered another benign smile. “You bet.”
Dinner was at some swanky steakhouse, dark and private. He seemed to know the people there, because they led him to a private, dark corner booth. The waitress set him up with a beer and whiskey as soon as they were seated.
Evelyn felt the beginnings of a headache in her temples, so she ordered an iced tea.
“Sure you don’t want anything stronger, honey?”
“No, the tea is fine for me.”
“Maybe after dinner, then. I thought we’d hit a club.”
Oh. Joy. “So, tell me about your race career.”
He leaned back and puffed up his chest. “Won the championship three years ago.
Third in the standings right now, so it’s only a matter of time before I win it again this year.”
“That’s great. I’m sure a lot of that is having a good race car and a great team behind you.”
The waitress came over with menus, which Cal pushed to the side. “You might as well bring me another round, honey. It’s been a long day. And keep ’em comin’, too.”
The waitress nodded and Cal downed his beer in about four quick swallows, then focused his attention back on Evelyn.
“A good team is great and all that, but a lot of my success comes from having a damn good driver behind the wheel. I didn’t get where I am by not knowing what the hell I’m doing. I’ve worked my ass off the past five years, ever since I got to drive in the big series. Winning the championship three years ago has given me a taste of what that’s like. I want it again.”
She heard this over and over again in politics. Winning was everything. The competitive spirit fired the blood of so many politicians, so this wasn’t new to her.
“Drive and ambition will take you a long way.”
The waitress sat Cal’s second beer down in front of him, along with the shot. He downed the shot first, then took two quick gulps of beer. “Like I said honey, keep ’em comin’. It was hot out there today.” He gave the waitress a wink and she scurried off.
Evelyn arched a brow and made a point of opening her menu. “Would you like to order dinner?”
“Not just yet, darlin’.” He tipped his beer to his lips and took a couple more long swallows, emptying it.
Uh, wow. She took a sip of tea.
“So where was I?”
Talking about himself, mostly. Who was this guy? He’d been so nice to her that afternoon, so charming and such a gentleman. All that evaporated as he spent the next hour not only drinking heavily, but regaling her with stories of his superb driving ability, and his entire life story, not once asking her anything about herself. For all he cared, she could have been a stranger he’d picked up on the side of the road and brought along to dinner. Not that there was any dinner on the horizon for that matter, either. She was starving and about to fling herself on the table closest to them just to steal a slice of their bread.
After about two and a half hours, Cal was three sheets to the wind, Evelyn was starving, and it was clear there was going to be no dinner. He was slurring every other word and she was certain if she asked him her name, he’d have no clue who she was.
The waitress seemed familiar with him, because she patiently came back to see if Cal wanted a refill.
Hunkered back in the booth and barely able to keep himself upright, he nodded yes.
“I think he’s had enough,” Evelyn said. “I’ll take a steak salad to go, with a lot of bread on the side. And please bring the check.”
The waitress gave her a knowing smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Hey, the party’s just gettin’ shtarted, honey,” Cal said, his eyelids drooping as he slunk back against the booth. “Let’s go danshing.”
“Honey,” she said, exaggerating the endearment. “Your party is over for the night.”
“Are you sure? I could show you shuch a good time.” He made a valiant try at winking, though he used both of his eyes.
She’d wager a month’s salary he couldn’t get it up right now if she stripped naked and danced on the table.
She paid the bill and a couple of the waiters helped her hoist Cal into the passenger side of his truck. She fired up the vibrating tank and drove it back to the track, grateful she’d paid attention to where they were going when they made their way to the restaurant.
Getting him into the truck had been easy, since she’d had help. Getting him out might be more difficult. Though she wasn’t at all adverse to leaving him in his truck to sleep it off tonight. Dickhead.
She parked the truck and looked over at him. “Cal.”
He was slumped over in the seat and snoring. She shoved at him. “Cal.”
He snorted once, then fell over against the window and continued snoring.
Rolling her eyes, she gave up, slid out of the truck, and shut the door, figuring someone must be out and about who could help her get the moron out of the truck and into his trailer.
She walked to the end of the parking lot and saw a dark shape coming toward her.
Her stomach twisted in knots when she realized who it was.
Gray.
Shit.
*
GRAY’S BROWS KNIT WHEN HE SAW EVELYN WALKING alone from Cal’s truck. He’d hated that she was going out with that ass**le tonight, knowing Cal’s reputation. He quickened his step until he met her halfway.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Cal’s not, though. Can you help me?”
He looked over his shoulder at the truck. “What’s wrong with Cal?”
“Drunk and passed out.”
That didn’t surprise him. Cal’s drinking problem wasn’t a big secret. “What happened?”
She told him about dinner—or their lack of dinner.
“Leave him,” Gray said.
“I can’t just leave him in there.”
“Sure you can. I’ll call his crew chief and he and the guys can pull him out of the truck and shove him in his trailer. I’m sure as hell not doing it.”