#Rev (GearShark #2)(49)

“The interviewer at GearShark already saw,” Trent remarked.

Gamble’s eyes shot open. “She did?”

Trent nodded. “Seemed to think it would help Drew’s career.”

“She didn’t print it…” he mused. Then glanced at me. “She respects you.”

“I threatened her with a lawsuit.” I clarified.

Gamble chuckled. “My boy, lawsuits are a practical daily occurrence to journalists. They push the envelope. Even if she didn’t print the story, she would have whispered. She would have started rumors. The industry would be abuzz right now, and she’d be collecting off it. But I haven’t heard a single word.”

“Why don’t you cut to the chase?” Trent said, his voice out of patience. “You want us to leave or not?”

Gamble laughed. “I always have liked your bluntness.”

“Well?” Trent replied and stood.

Could he feel my budding agitation? The frustration welling inside me because Gamble wasn’t really saying anything? Instead, he was just wearing my patience.

The guy should have been a politician, answering questions without actually giving an answer.

“Dad,” Joey warned as if she were getting frustrated as well. “Put them out of their misery.”

Gamble tossed back the rest of the scotch in his glass and stood. He was dressed comfortably in a pair of what I assumed were dark-colored rich people lounge pants. They were too nice-looking to be considered sweatpants. Paired with them, he had on a light-blue polo that looked like it was made out of cashmere.

Ivy would probably drool all over this guy’s closet.

“Hopper’s gay,” he announced.

I felt my mouth literally fall open. Of all the shit he could say, I never thought it would be that.

“Hopper. Your pro driving coach,” Trent reiterated.

“The one you called a dick.” Gamble agreed.

I glanced at Joey, and she nodded.

“You didn’t think I might like to know that?” I asked.

She shrugged one shoulder. “I knew what my father would say on a personal level, but on a business level? I never have any idea.”

The sound of light footsteps approached, and a woman with dark hair pinned back poked her head in the room. “Dinner is served.”

“Thank you, Ellen!” Joey chimed out, fondness in her voice.

Ellen (who I figured was the housekeeper or cook or something) smiled. “Anything for you Josephine.”

“Josephine,” Trent echoed.

Joey whipped around and gave him an evil eye.

He grinned.

“Thank you, Ellen. We’ll be right there,” Gamble said, and when she was gone, he set aside his empty glass. “Shall we eat?” He gestured toward the door.

“I’d like an answer first,” Trent said, stubborn.

“I’m starving,” Joey said dramatically.

Gamble faced me, and I felt Trent step up to my back, silently offering support.

This was it.

The future of my career.

“Your relationship with Trent is of no consequence to me. I might be an old man, but even I understand the heart chooses who it wants.”

“You’re not that old, Dad,” Joey rebuffed.

“And the racing?” I asked, my heart still squeezing. The lightest touch grazed my lower back. I could feel the heat of it through my shirt. Trent.

Gamble glanced at Trent. “I’ll be blunt. I agree with the reporter.”

“What?” I asked, blinking.

“I think it will help your career.”

“I’m not exploiting our relationship,” Trent said, his voice firm.

“No one said anything about that. But you already made it clear you have no intent of being shy about it either. I like it. In a division where the drivers go against all the rules, do what they want, and represent the underdog? Frankly, you being gay makes you a better face for the brand.”

“For the revolution.” Trent corrected. He brushed his fingertips a little more firmly in a soft caress over my back before pulling away.

“That is what you called it in your GearShark interview,” Gamble said to me. He shook his head slowly, mulling over possibilities. “A revolution of racing meets a revolution of the way people view athletes.”

“If you think me announcing I’m with a man is going to make everyone in this world magically accept gay people, there must have been some expensive, exotic shit in that scotch.”

Gamble laughed.

“All you need for a revolution is a spark.” Trent’s voice was soft but meaningful. He’d been thinking about this. More than I realized.

“Are you quoting The Hunger Games?” Joey wondered out loud.

“The what?” Trent asked.

“We need to have a movie night,” she muttered.

“Exactly.” Gamble nodded. “The demographic for this division is young. The young are far more open-minded than most, and not only will this barely register on their radar, but it will give a lot of them something to identify with.”

“Is the gay population really that large?” I wondered.

“It doesn’t even have to do with sexual orientation. Not really.” Trent spoke up. “Like Gamble said, the underdogs, those who feel singled out, whether it be because of who they love, how they look, what they do… People everywhere feel different. Here you are, this amazing driver. You earned your way into a meeting with Ron Gamble and convinced him to start a new sport for people who’d been discriminated against for years.”