“If you were to return to professional racing, do you have any idea as to how long you would be on the circuit?”
“No more than a year or two,” he said, hoping it would be a lot less than that.
Pete looked at the other people around the table. “If he committed to running the school when he retired, we could get by with a temporary administrator.” He turned to Josh. “Would that interest you?”
“It might.”
While he was intrigued by the idea of the school, what interested him most was that being in charge of something like the racing school meant he would have something stable to offer Charity and the baby. Something that would make her proud of him. Something that might make him enough.
He hadn’t spoken to her since he’d found out she was pregnant. Probably a mistake, he told himself. They had to talk about what was happening, come up with a game plan. If he could explain that he was going to try to be worthy, maybe she would give him a chance.
A kid, he thought, still not able to take it all in. He was having a kid.
“You’ll let us know?” Pete asked.
Josh nodded. “After the race. I’ll let you know if I’m going to run the school and when I plan to start.”
“Excellent. We want you on board. You’re an integral part of this plan.”
They all shook hands, then Josh went back down to the parking garage where his car and driver waited.
If he didn’t agree to run the school, he would lose the funding he needed. It could probably be found elsewhere, but it might take a while. The town needed the school now. Which meant it all came down to him.
Was that the kind of job he wanted? Could he do it and did he want to?
He thought about the high school kids he rode with several times a week. How he’d gone from being terrified of being anywhere close to them on a bike, to helping them train. He enjoyed watching them get better and knowing he was a part of the improvement. He liked the idea that Brandon could go all the way—be an international contender.
The school would be a way for Brandon and other kids like him to get to the next level. Of course he wanted to be a part of that. But first he had to get back to being the man he’d been. He had to compete and win.
When he landed back in Sacramento, he drove directly to Fool’s Gold. But instead of going to his place or Charity’s office, he made his way out of town to the large manufacturing facility Ethan owned. He drove around several guys loading the base of a windmill on a big rig and headed for the office.
Ethan’s truck was out front. He went inside and found his friend in his office.
“Got a minute?” he asked as he walked in.
Ethan waved at the chair on the opposite side of his desk. “Sure. What’s up?”
“I just got back from L.A.”
Ethan grinned. “I thought you looked a little frayed around the edges. What’s new in La La land?”
“I met with the people who can get funding for the racing school. The school you bid on.”
“Interesting.”
“They want me to run it.”
Ethan leaned back in his chair. “I turned them down last week. In case you were wondering.”
Josh chuckled. “Sure you did.”
“I’m busy with my own empire. As are you. Considering it?”
“Maybe. The other businesses—the sporting goods store, the hotel, the real estate—any good manager could handle it. But the school is different.”
“They want your name.”
It wasn’t a question, but Josh nodded anyway. “Having me on board makes it easy to get sponsors and students.”
“So why aren’t you jumping at the chance?”
“I don’t know if I can do it.”
“You’d have coaches. Staff. Hell, you could just stand around and look pretty and they’d be happy.”
Josh ignored the slam. “I don’t know if I can ride.”
Ethan’s eyebrows drew together. “You’re going to find out in a few short weeks.”
True enough. The race was rapidly approaching. Sometimes Josh knew he had it in him—that he had conquered his demons. Other times he knew he was fooling himself and that he would totally lose it in the middle of a race, on international television so the entire world would know he was a useless coward. If that happened, he would have trouble finding work at a hot dog stand, let alone in the racing community.
“You can do it,” Ethan told him.
“Want to bet?”
“Sure. You’ve never walked away from anything in your life.”
“I walked away from you,” Josh reminded him. “I was scared. You were a friend and you needed me and I still hid from you for years.”
“That was different.”
“No. It was exactly the same. After Frank died…” He rubbed his temples. “I still see the body flying, him hitting the ground. It’s not like in the movies. Death doesn’t come with a soundtrack.”
“Beating yourself up doesn’t do a damn thing for Frank,” Ethan told him. “He was a pro. He knew what he was doing.”
“He was a kid. I was supposed to watch out for him.”