“So, Paislie, do you work for the Cowboys as well? Is that how you met Trey?” Mr. Elliot asked.
Paislie about let out a roar of laughter. “Oh no! No sir, I don’t work for the Cowboys. I work as a physical therapist in the Dallas area.”
I lifted my eyes. “Really? Physical therapist?” And she lived in Dallas. Fucking hell yes. This was my lucky day.
With a nod, she replied, “Yep.”
Trey was getting a bit upset the attention was not on him. “I thought there for a bit you weren’t going to be able to pull off a win. You pulled through at the end, though. Of course I’m sure it’s because the number seven’s tire blew.”
I slowly looked back at Trey.
Fucker. “That might have had something to do with it. I’d like to think it was my driving skills and the flawless car we had.”
Trey stared me down for a good thirty seconds. “Oh, of course. Yeah.”
Dalton walked over and bumped my arm. “Not to be rude, but it’s time for the press conference.”
I gave him a quick head nod before turning back to Trey. Reaching my hand out, I said, “It was a pleasure meeting you. We’ll make sure you’re taken care of in April when we hit Texas Motor Speedway.”
“Yeah, same here. I’ll be sure to hook you up with some tickets to a game, even if you are a Texans’ fan.”
I forced a smile as I shook his hand again. Before leaving, I reached for Paislie’s hand. When her hand landed in mine, I was pretty sure we both felt the energy from that touch. Her mouth dropped open as she inhaled a quick breath. The feeling zipping through my body was a rush I’d never experienced before.
“Paislie, it was nice bumping into you.”
She fought to hold back her laugh as she smiled the most brilliant smile I’d ever seen. It was then I noticed she had a dimple in her left cheek and one on her chin.
Fuck, that is cute as hell. Why was a girl like Paislie with a douche like Trey? It made no sense at all.
“It most certainly was. Congratulations again on your win.”
With wink, I replied, “Thank you.”
I followed Dalton toward the press house and took a chance at glancing over my shoulder. Trey was busy talking to Mr. Elliot, but Paislie was watching me walk off.
When she lifted her hand to wave goodbye, I lifted mine before turning back and looking straight ahead.
Why did it feel like I was fighting for oxygen to breathe?
One more look over my shoulder showed Paislie still watching me. My chest tightened and I wasn’t sure how I should be feeling.
“You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I ran my hand through my hair and tried to understand why, for the first time in years, the smile of one girl made my heart about jump out of my chest.
“I’m fine. Just tired,” I mumbled.
Pulling my phone out, I texted myself a message.
Me: Paislie Pruitt—Dallas PT
Shoving the phone into my back pocket, I turned to Dalton. “There isn’t anyone in my bus is there?”
Dalton frowned. “Yeah. A hot little number Tom said you had fun with earlier. You know I don’t care what happens after the race, just not before it Malcolm. I need you to stay focused.”
Before walking up to start the interview, I hit his chest and said, “It was a moment of weakness . . . I know your rule. Get rid of her, would you? I’m tired and just want to pull out after this.”
Dalton pulled his head back in surprise. “Um . . . okay. You sure?”
With a pat on his shoulder, I grinned and said, “I’ve never been more sure.”
SLIPPING INTO THE LIMO, I slid as far over to the other side as I could. Trey sat down and looked at me. “How in the fuck did you know Malcolm Wallace, and why didn’t you tell me you knew him?”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I decided to turn this conversation around. “Who were you talking to earlier? Before we got to the track, after you gave me an orgasm?”
His eyes filled with something I was very used to seeing. Deceit.
“It was no one. I told you.”
“Trey, as much as you probably don’t believe this, I’ve got good intuition and I call bullshit. Who is she?”
He swallowed hard before laughing and trying to blow me off. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Paislie. You’re being paranoid.”
We sat in silence as the limo drove back to Caesar’s Palace. When we pulled up to the front and the door opened, I stayed in my seat. Trey looked back at me with a confused expression.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to the airport.”
His eyes grew angry. “Get the hell out of the car, Paislie. This is crazy.”
Looking down, I took in a deep breath and slowly blew it out before glancing back up at him. “My father dropped me off at an orphanage when I was eight years old, and every time he came back into my life I hoped it was because he wanted me. It never was and I quickly learned in life to tell when a man was lying to me. You see, my father’s been doing it for years. Please send my suitcase to my house.”