#Junkie (GearShark #1)

“With all due respect, I don’t want to be here because Romeo put in a good word,” Drew said.

Gamble nodded. “Of course. A man wants to earn his way. Your family isn’t the only reason you’re here. The underground world of racing, or as some call it, the indie world, is growing.”

Hopper nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised if within the next five years or so, the indie drivers break onto the scene and become just as popular as those who drive professionally.”

I bit down on my tongue. I couldn’t help but feel slightly offended. It’s like they were saying the indie drivers were somehow less professional because they didn’t have fancy backers and sponsors.

“I agree.” Gamble took up the conversation again. “You’ve been earning a name in the underground world, Forrester. That’s why you’re here. Romeo told me about you months ago, but I waited until you’d been in the state for a while. I waited until you had a track record around here.”

“I drove in North Carolina, too,” he answered.

Gamble nodded. “I know. I made some calls.”

I shifted impatiently, but Drew held himself still and waited for Gamble to get to the point.

“I like you,” he finally said, his eyes sliding to me. “I like your manager, too. He definitely won’t take shit.”

Drew glanced at me, and I wanted to grimace. I hadn’t exactly been… uh, an ass kisser.

“You’re fast, you handle a car easily, you clearly have a lot of guts, and sometimes you appear to be fearless. Plus, you have good taste in cars.”

“But?” Drew asked.

Gamble half smiled. “But you’re green. You drive like an indie. Without rules. Without care. I almost dare to say you’re too fearless.”

Drew laughed. “I’m pretty sure that’s not a bad thing.”

“Makes you reckless,” Hopper said.

I felt Drew bristle. Immediately, my attitude shifted to compliment his. He was on defense now, so I was on offense. That’s the way Drew and I worked, two sides of the same coin. If he was hot, I was cool. If he was mad, then I was reason.

Instead of arguing like I knew he wanted, Drew stuck out his hand to Gamble. “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me. I know you’re a very busy man.”

Gamble looked between Drew and his hand. “That’s all you have to say?” he asked, lifting a brow.

Drew dropped his hand. “I don’t have anything left to say. My driving said it all out there on the track. I respect your opinion, and I will take everything you said into consideration as I continue driving.”

“Most guys would try and fight for their spot,” Hopper said.

Drew turned to him. “I’m not most guys.”

No, he isn’t, I thought.

“As you pointed out yourself, the indie world of racing is up and coming. It’s only a matter of time before we break onto the scene. All it’s going to take is one driver who gets a lucky break or one really rich eccentric who wants to throw in with the underdogs.” Drew shrugged. “I’ll just keep doing my thing until that day comes.”

Sometimes the guy amazed me. The way he refused to let anything keep him down. I respected him so goddamn much in that moment.

“I’m not saying no,” Gamble said. I heard the respect in his voice.

“You aren’t?” Drew asked.

He smiled. “I know better than to let a future household name slip through my fingers.”

“So what are you saying exactly?” I said, point blank.

“I’m saying this has been an interesting conversation, and though I might have come here expecting one thing, I’m glad I got something else.”

“And what is that?” Drew crossed his arms over his chest.

Even Hopper seemed a little perplexed, as if for once he didn’t know what Gamble was going to say.

“You might not be a professional driver in the sense of someone ready to conform for NASCAR and Formula One standards… but you are driver all the same. You represent a much larger population. As you said, the underground racing scene is going to explode any minute now.”

“I think it’s going to be a little longer than that,” Drew replied, dry.

“Unless, of course, some eccentric with a lot of money comes along and wants to, as you said, throw in with the underdogs.”

“Are you saying you want to sponsor Drew on an indie level?” I asked.

“I’m saying I think the underground world of racing needs a face, one capable of bringing this unrecognized organization of racers into the spotlight.”

I felt my lips pull up into an excited smile.

“It’s cold out here, and we have a lot to discuss. Let’s meet over at headquarters.” Gamble pointed to the condos over the track. “We’ll be more comfortable, and there’s coffee.”

“Of course.” Drew agreed.

We waited ‘til Gamble and Hopper drove off in the Cadillac before going to the Mustang.

“What the fuck just happened?” Drew pondered.

“Something big,” I said. “I don’t know what, but it’s going to be big.”

Drew made a whooping sound and pumped his fist in the air.

I laughed, but the sound was abrupt because he launched himself at me.

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