Page 23 of Off the Mark
I need a miracle, Rowan. I need your help.
My stomach hollowing, I clicked on it. I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for, but I was intrigued when I landed on the championship website. There were tickets being sold for different races. Pages selling merchandise and gear. News updates and press releases.
And a listing of the attending sponsors and investors at the non-race events leading up to the big day.
“Holy shit,” I muttered.
Irecognizedthese names. Two well-known Philly-based philanthropists. A half dozen companies that had given the rec center financial support in the past. A few more were literally on a sticky note in my office right now, names scribbled down after a meeting with Luciana. Next to those names, I’d written:Elaine’s been trying to get support from these local companies for years but no donations yet.
I clicked back through the website. All those same names were emblazoned on rider jackets and bike gear, on banners and program flyers.
I let my head fall back against the front door. Charlie was about to spend the next few weeks in the room with some of the richest people and companies in the city. And had invited me to come along with her.
The fans love a romance and so does the media. If Bettencourt wants me to generate happy, nice news stories, showing off a new boyfriend at all these events might help.
I’d turned her down.
I thought about my grandmother sayingwe take care of each other in this neighborhood. Of the wounded look on Charlie’s face as she fled my office. And I could hear all my gut instincts, reminding me that this was the worst possible time to do something so unbelievably stupid.
But I needed a miracle too, and her bizarre proposition was as close as I was gonna get to it.
Besides, when it came to Charlie Maddox, when had I ever been that smart?
8
CHARLIE
Five minutes remained until my second race was about to start. And I couldn’t get my riding goggles untangled.
Dempsey briefly watched me struggle before taking them with an exasperated sigh.
“You know, if youstoredthem the way you’re supposed to, you wouldn’t get these knots,” she said, using her nails to pick at the offending area. “You can’t go out there without them. Where’s your spare set?”
I squinted off to the side, nose wrinkled. “Back in my hotel room, probably.”
The one I’d left in a rush this morning—thoughts agitated, body out of sorts,completelydistracted.
She grunted. “And how does that help us?”
My eyes darted over to the countdown clock. I was straddling my bike behind the start gate. All around me, other riders were suiting up, revving engines, checking in with their mechanics.
Meanwhile, my agent was here to deliver bad news.
But only after she fixed my goggles like a frustrated parent at a swim meet.
“Here,” she said, “good as new.”
I tucked the end of my braid into the back of my jacket and secured the goggles. Then I pulled on my helmet, but not before Dempsey fixed it with a furrow in her brow.
“You’d think I haven’t been doing this since I was five years old,” I drawled.
Her lips pursed. “It doesn’t mean you don’t need help out here. Everyone else has some. A trainer or a team would carry everything for you. Including goggles.”
I ignored the question buried within her—understandable—point. “Thanks for the last-minute assist though. Do you want to give me the bad news before I go do a bunch of death-defying stunts?”
She crossed her arms, the colorful lines of her tattoos curling out from the sleeves of her silk top. “It could be worse. As of today, Bettencourt is still your sponsor.For now. I finally got a short face-to-face meeting right before this and promised them perfect behavior and wins.”
I glanced up in total surprise and grabbed her hands. “Dempsey, youqueen.”
