Not only that, but in finance, you learn to not only look at the equation, but at the bigger picture. Numbers are fluid; you can manipulate them to put you on a path to a specific outcome. You must have a clear goal for what you want to achieve, so all the pieces can be laid in place to make a complete picture.
To me, that was exciting. It wasn’t just crunching numbers. It was building something. It was taking risks for big payoffs.
Finance was basically just a narrowed-in business degree, a specialty, but a broader sense of business was still required.
While racing was a sport, and I spent a lot of time beneath a hood lately with Drew and watching him on the track… that wasn’t all there was to it.
This new division was a business. It took a lot of strategic planning to put it together, to get it going, and to make it work. It was fascinating to me, listening to Gamble talk about how it was all being started.
For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I needed a break from my major or even my chosen career. I felt challenged and motivated to roll up my sleeves and pitch a few ideas of my own.
What impressed me more about Gamble was his willingness to listen. Even though he was extremely successful, he didn’t sit at the table and act like he knew it all. He was eager to bounce ideas with me. Hell, he even asked my opinion on a few things. I wasn’t nearly as experienced as him; I was basically still in diapers compared to him. But it didn’t seem to matter.
He liked blunt, so that’s what I gave him. I asked him why.
His response?
I was young and hungry. I was almost fresh out of college, and I had a vested interest in this budding revolution of racing because Drew was at the center of it. In his experience, sometimes actual work experience wasn’t as good as a fresh eye and a new outlook. Beyond that, I’d been in the circles with Drew for a while now. I’d been in the indie world, and since I wasn’t a driver, I probably had a different perspective, a perspective that would be useful on the business side.
He was right.
Instead of making me feel like I was the shit and maybe had an inside track to some hotshot job in the division, the whole night talking with Gamble lit a fire inside me. I wanted to prove myself. I wanted to show Gamble he was right—I was young and hungry. I was motivated, and I did want to look beyond just the drivers at the business as a whole.
After all, a man isn’t defined by his words, but by his actions.
It was late when Joey dropped us off at the front entrance of the hotel. It practically glowed with a golden halo because of all the lighting. I wondered if they did it on purpose so the outside hue went with the gold accents used inside.
Even though we ended up meeting tonight, the meeting for tomorrow was still on. It ended up a good thing we had some extra time because after all the talking we did at dinner, there was more work to be done.
Drew and Joey were going to go out on the track for some drive time, and I was going to spend some time in the pro headquarters, which was also being used for the new division. I wanted to look over the endorsement deals coming in for Drew, his schedule, and his financials. I knew he wanted to quit his job, but I wanted to make sure it was a smart move first.
We were both quiet on the way up to the room, walking past the front desk, small kitchen that offered coffee and water around the clock, and the “business” center, which was basically a section of the huge lobby walled off with large sheets of glass with several computers, printers, and free Wi-Fi for the guests.
The second we walked into the room, my eyes went right to his cell, which lay left behind on the wet bar. I wasn’t sure if he turned it off, and I didn’t ask. It really didn’t matter. He was ignoring it regardless.
Maybe I’d ignore mine, too.
On impulse, I strode across the room, pulled my phone out of my jeans, and tossed it down beside his.
When I turned back, Drew was leaning against the closed door with a grin on his face. The way he was leaning made the black leather jacket fall off the sides of his body and accentuate his long, lean waist. His jeans rode low on his hips and skimmed over his thighs, emphasizing the strength in his lower half.
I couldn’t see his hands because they were behind him, but I imagined his palms flat against the door, like he was bracing himself for me.
Because he knew.
He knew I was coming for him.
My eyes ripped from his body and flashed up to his. The dimple in his cheek deepened, and my tongue ran over my teeth. Blond hair fell over his forehead, threatening to conceal one of his blue eyes.
Sexy. Powerful. Unshaven.
And there was this thread… a small imperfection at the hem of his jeans. Even though he literally made a mouthwatering sight standing there in our private room, my eyes kept going back to that string.
The hem was slightly too long, so the bottom of the material (at the back of his heel) dragged the ground. Over time, the fabric began to fray with the repeated action of rubbing against pavement.
Right now, one small, white string stretched out across the floor beside his foot.