#Rev (GearShark #2)(47)

What if he rejected me? What if the disgust on his face was so transparent it was impossible to deny? What would it do to me?

To Trent?

I told myself to suck it up. I was doing this.

As we walked up the wide steps, I felt Trent’s stare. I glanced at him.

Behind Joey’s back he mouthed. “You okay?”

I nodded.

There was no butler or maid that answered the door. We didn’t ring some gonging doorbell and stand there forever to wait to be granted entrance.

Instead, Joey flung open the door and walked right in. “Dad!” she yelled through the broad, fancy entryway. The floors were black-and-white marble, there were classic white statues lining the walls, and a black chandelier lit the space.

It was quiet in here, but really, I didn’t expect it to be loud. As far as I knew, it was only Gamble who lived here and possibly Joey.

“You live here or over at the apartments by the track?” Trent asked, looking around.

“Here,” she said. “There’s really no point in having an apartment. This house is so big, and my room is on the opposite side from my dad’s.”

She motioned for us to follow her out of the entry, passed a sitting room, and continued down a wide hall to an open wooden door. “He’s probably in here,” she said as she went.

I just concentrated on making sure my shoes didn’t make a squeaking sound against the really clean floors. That would be embarrassing.

“There you are,” Gamble’s deep voice came from inside the room.

Right before I could follow Joey over the threshold, Trent’s hand snagged mine. “You ready for this?” he whispered.

“Are you?”

He gave my fingers a light squeeze before releasing me. “Yeah.”

“Drew!” Gamble said when I stepped in. The room was what I would call a gentleman’s study. All polished wood paneling, heavy furniture, and a large fireplace. There was a desk on one side, but it wasn’t the focal point. I actually really appreciated that because it spoke volumes about the man standing in front of me.

Yes, his work and business was a large part of his life. But there was more to him than that. His job wasn’t everything. If it was, his desk would be huge, it would be front and center, and the atmosphere in here would be stuffy instead of comfortable.

I think it would be hard for a man like Ron Gamble to do anything but intimidate people. That seemed like a heavy cross to bear.

Sort of like falling in love with your best friend.

There was so much room for misinterpretation. For assumptions.

“Scotch or whiskey?” I asked, gesturing to the glass in his hand.

“I’ll get you some whiskey, son, but you’re gonna have to drink it out of a baby bottle.”

Trent laughed.

Joey rolled her eyes and finished crossing the room to give her father a kiss on the cheek. He smiled at her warmly, and it was just another flash of the man behind the image.

Joey glanced at me before going over to pour herself some scotch. Clearly, in this house, whiskey was for pansies.

Is this why she expertly took control of this meeting? Setting it up in the evening, after traditional business hours and in Gamble’s personal home? Was she trying to show Trent and me there was a whole other side to Gamble people rarely saw? Was it her way of telling me without saying the words that he just might understand more than I thought?

Trent went across the room before me and held his hand out directly to Gamble. “Thanks for meeting with us.”

Gamble shifted the glass into one hand and offered the other to T.

“A meeting is overdue,” he said. “Joey, pour the men a drink.”

“Women’s rights,” she reminded him, sipping out of her own.

“Hospitality,” he rebutted.

“Yes, sir.” She moaned and set aside her glass to pour two neat glasses of scotch.

I sidled up to her and leaned close to her ear. “That’s a good girl.”

“Screw you,” she said fondly and shoved the glass at me.

I chuckled and sipped at the dark liquid. It was smooth all the way down.

“Have a seat.” Gamble gestured to the seating options around the fireplace. There were several leather club chairs, a couch, and a few other options of chairs with wooden frames.

I sat in one of the club chairs, and Joey sat on the couch. Trent sat nearby in another of the leather chairs, while Gamble took up one of the wooden-framed ones.

Frankly, I wondered if it made his ass sore. Looked uncomfortable as hell.

“As I said…” Gamble went on. “I’m glad you called. I wanted to give you an update on the new division and give you a schedule of some of the preliminary races. Also, a few endorsement deals have come in, so you’ll need to look those over, Drew, and see if any of them are a good fit.”

“You can send that stuff to me,” Trent said.

Gamble nodded. “Once you decide, I’ll have my legal team make sure the deals are solid. Also, because the preliminaries are being scheduled, we need to get some kind of driving schedule down so you’ll be ready. We also need to talk about the car you’re going to be driving and assembling a pit crew to travel with you.”

“I need a pit crew for preliminary races?” I asked. How big were these events going to be?

“Maybe not as full of a crew as you’ll need once the actual racing season starts, but I’d never send you to qualify without a team to troubleshoot your car.”