“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.”
People who were discriminated against = indie drivers.
“You’re breaking down walls. And you’re doing it with speed. And now you’re also admitting—no, we’re admitting to being in a relationship. Frankly, it’s one more thing for people to admire.”
“And hate.” I reminded him. Not that I thought he needed a reminder. I thought he knew better than I did. He was the one walking around with cracked ribs.
“Oh, there will be hate.” Gamble agreed and looked at me. “I guess the real question is, are you sure you’re up for this?”
I never wanted to be a role model. I never wanted to be someone to break down walls or even give a voice to people who felt like they were somehow less.
But that’s where I found myself.
I looked at T. The lines and angles of his face were so familiar to me. So strong. He was my best friend and he was my lover. Underneath all that, though, he was a man.
A man with doubts and feelings. With vulnerabilities and insecurities.
I was, too.
We all were.
It didn’t make me less of a driver—less of an athlete. If anything, it made me better.
So while, no, this wasn’t where I expected the road to lead me, here I was. I was lucky. Trent and I had each other. We had family and friends rallying around us to support us.
What about the people who didn’t have anyone? Could I somehow give someone else some kind of hope, even from the cover of a magazine?
I could. I would. But someone else would do it better.
I swung around to Trent. “I think you should do it.”
“Do what?” he asked.
“Call the reporter at GearShark. Start the revolution.”
“What about you?” he asked.
“I’ll be there,” I replied, my attention condensed down to only him. “Always.”
“I like it.” Gamble approved.
“Beef Wellington tastes better hot,” Joey said.
Everyone laughed.
“We’re having beef Wellington?” Trent asked, suddenly more interested in food than anything.
Beef Wellington was good, but it wasn’t French fries.
“It’s Joey’s favorite,” Gamble said.
“So we’re going to do this?” Trent said, setting aside his glass.
“All you have to do is say the word,” Gamble said. “We can go sit down and talk numbers and details while my daughter eats me out of house and home.”
“Yes,” I said.
My heart squeezed again, but this time it wasn’t because I was nervous or even scared.
I was excited.
Trent
Ron Gamble was a man who got shit done.
After one evening in his impressive home, talking business with him, I knew exactly why he was the richest man in the state.
There weren’t many people like him.
He was cunning and quick but still had an uncanny eye for detail. It was like his mind processed things twice as fast as most others. The conversation we had over beef Wellington, creamy mashed potatoes with a hint of horseradish, and roasted root vegetables reminded me why I decided to major in finances at Alpha U.
It was exhilarating.
Most people thought of finance as stodgy and boring. It was all numbers and spreadsheets. Yeah, obviously, that was part of it, but there was so much more. A person in finance had to be good with people, personable.
Some might argue charm was a definite bonus to have. Why? Because people needed to feel comfortable with you. Money made the world go round. Some didn’t like it, but it was a fact. So becoming an advisor on something as big as their finances… well, trust was one of the most important components.