Fast Love (The Billionaires Club Book 3) Page 2

  Indiana’s legs were willed to move. Encouragement from him was rare but always well placed. She got in the car. Richard saw to her comfort with the steering wheel and moved the seat forward until her feet were within proper proximity of the pedals.

  He crouched down on his heels and eyed her gravely.

  “Now this car’s an automatic, so you only have two pedals. Use the same foot for gas as you do for the brakes.”

  Indy had already figured all of this out and rolled her eyes. Richard shut the driver’s door with a chuckle.

  She watched him walk around the hood of the car. He stood out like the finest thing. The grey smoke around him added charm. The black night made everything else drop away.

  The passenger door creaked when it opened.

  “I’ll have to remember to grease this hinge. It might ruin some poor girl’s eardrums. Whew, it’s a good thing I found that out.”

  Richard looked at her like he had just avoided the biggest catastrophe. Indiana reminded herself of her youth, but she silently vowed not to act uneducated. She waited for his comfort to be assured. He rolled down the window and hung the cigar outside of the car.

  He looked at her expectantly. “Do I have to show you how to drive?”

  Indiana shook her head and quit staring at the impressive man beside her.

  The ignition turned easily. Indiana’s eyes rose appreciatively to the windshield. She had been obsessing about cars her whole racing bred life. The lights were clicked on, and she smoothly reversed into the night. The gas pedal moved slowly and the car responded. She sat back comfortably once she reached a steady speed.

  “If I were a judge I would say this isn’t your first time driving a car.” The glowing ember of cigar reflected in the glass, and more whispers of smoke billowed into the air.

  “It’s easy,” Indiana said defiantly. “I want to drive like you were driving.”

  Indiana let her eyes stray from the road for emphasis.

  “All right.” He threw the cigar out the window and rubbed his hands together excitedly. “Go ahead and stop the car. Now keep your foot on the brake while you accelerate. When you see the revolutions of the motor get up to three thousand, let off the brakes. You know which one is the RPM gauge, right?”

  Indiana nodded excitedly.

  “Okay, good.” Richard could command any situation. But his sharp attention to detail, while keeping a relaxed stature, had Indiana ready to please.

  “Now remember you are guiding the car. Keep your hands loose on the wheel, then it’ll be easier to keep the car straight.”

  Indiana pushed her foot down on the gas. The thought of letting go of restraints got her excited. She did what he told her to do. The car popped into sudden speed.

  A laugh escaped her body. Indiana didn’t know if she had ever had so much fun.

  “All right, that’s good, but you don’t need to go over fifty miles an hour.”

  Indiana slowed to the next stop along the slightly inhabited road.

  “That was fun.” She smiled at her passenger.

  “Let’s go one more time,” he said.

  Indiana had a blast. She reluctantly parked the steaming vehicle in her parents’ driveway.

  “I could drive all night. Should I shut it off?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  They exited the car at the same time. Both doors shut in uniform softness. They met by the hot hood. Indiana was caught between budding girl and young woman, but she didn’t know how else to thank him. She threw her arms around him and pressed her lips to his startled mouth. Indiana felt his stomach tighten into rippling washboard abs. His head slightly dipped into hers.

  Richard’s only other response was holding his hands up. Indiana pulled away. He stuffed his hands into his pockets.

  “You should not be kissing older men, Indy.” For once he sounded a little rattled.

  “I don’t kiss everyone,” she said with young determination.

  Richard laughed. “Well, that’s good.”

  The front door of the house opened. Indiana’s parents looked at them. Their behavior suggested they’d seen the previous display of their forward daughter.

  “Goodbye, Richard,” they said, and pulled their daughter inside.

  The little family faced each other in the large hall.

  “That’s exactly why you are being sent away to the all-girls school,” Ellen said pointedly. “I don’t care about your textbook education nearly as much as your etiquette. You can’t go around kissing older men.”

  “Yeah? Well, he gave me a better birthday present than you did,” Indiana argued. “He taught me how to do a burnout.”

  “Ellen, she has a point.” Clarence turned his attention to his wife. “You didn’t need to give the uniform as a present.”

  “Even uniforms cost money, and she never likes her gifts from me anyway.” Mrs. Bernstein replaced his attention on the wayward daughter. “How can you let your friends teach our daughter how to speed cars?”

  “Hey, someone’s going to do it. It might as well be my racing partner. I can’t imagine her life in any safer hands.”

  Indiana always agreed with her father, but she wisely kept her mouth shut. She knew her mother wouldn’t be outnumbered for long.

  “You go to your room. I’ll deal with you later.” Mrs. Bernstein pointed toward the upstairs.

  Indiana did as she was told. The fight would dwindle by itself. Tomorrow would come soon enough. They wouldn’t let a little thing like her get in the way of a restful night before tomorrow’s big day.

  Chapter 2

  Indiana got up early the next morning. She was eating cereal in the kitchen when her father walked in.

  “Hi, Dad. I already made your protein shake. It’s in the refrigerator.”

  He smiled. “Thanks, Indy. But you’re still not off the hook. We need to talk about last night. You can’t be kissing Richard like that.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with Richard?”

  “It could ruin his career. If anyone knew he went around kissing fifteen-year-old girls it could ruin his reputation. The press would have a field day. He would lose his sponsorship and get cut from the team. I mean, how would it look if someone saw me kiss one of your young friends?”

  “Well, that’s different. You love Mom and you’re way older than Richard. Besides, I kissed him.” Indiana sucked her chin in.

  “I’m not way older. Just a little bit older.” Her father puffed out his chest, then remembered the train of conversation. “It doesn’t matter who kissed who. It happened, and the press wouldn’t care who started it. Why don’t you find a nice boy your own age?”

  “How am I going to meet a boy at an all-girls school?” Indiana swirled her spoon in the soggy cereal.

  “Good point.” He downed his shake quickly. “Well, maybe they have dances with boy schools or something. I’ve got to go. Now wish your old man papa good luck for the race.”

  Indiana stood up and hugged her dad.

  “I got up early to go with you.” Indiana pouted.

  “No, your mother is right. You’re getting too old to hang out with grease monkeys. Now be a good girl and listen to your mom. I love you, but I have to go.” Clarence Bernstein marched off with his usual string of cool nerves.

  ***

  Later, Indiana arrived at the racetrack with the rest of the family. She always went to the race with her mother and brother. It turned out to be the normal stress of navigating traffic and people at a sold out event.

  Luckily, once they were inside the gates, someone ushered them to the VIP section. They had luxurious box seats with the best view.

  The crowd waited patiently as the pace car did the slow introductory lap. The race cars lined up on the pole. Clarence Bernstein’s car idled in eighth position. With the waving of flags, the race began.

  Thundering cars began racing by. High octane exhaust hazily rose up from the speedway. Tatters of confetti floated from the stands and never seemed to settl
e down.

  The cars were packed close as the laps and scores were counted. Indiana’s dad shared the leading spotlight with his young partner.

  The leading car pierced through the empty spaces of air and pulled its shadowy partner along. The two cars shared the draft, and leapfrogged along the top of the scoreboard.

  The race dragged on into the evening. Indiana’s stomach churned for food but her nerves couldn’t take one more thing. The last two laps were looming ahead like a glittery haven.

  Suddenly hell came to earth. Indiana’s father lost control of his car. A flat tire slammed the car into the wall. Car number 52 rolled over and over and over. From front to front then side to side, it rolled over until it was crushed. The car completely stopped moving and so did everyone else. Then it burst into flames. The Bernstein clan jumped from their seats as a fireball erupted from the car closest to their hearts.

  Indiana’s life stopped when the flames devoured its constant offering of flammables. There were no signs of life when the emergency vehicles arrived on the scene. A very still body was removed from the smoking race car and taken to proper care.

  Tears slicked down Indiana’s face. Helicopters hovered over the scene and recorded her paleness behind the unprotected glass of the booth. Her mother used her children as a crutch when they were led through the stunned crowd. What could have been a victory lap turned into a heavy ride to the hospital.

  Sitting in the hospital waiting room, Indiana finished watching the race. Richard Sand sacked his first win. He climbed from the victory car. Normally his green eyes would shine with mirth. But grief subdued the young champion and his eyes were a muddy hazel concoction.

  He refrained from doing a burnout or victory lap. Richard fumbled through the celebratory champagne rinse. The first place winner could hardly smile.

  Lucky for him, models and newscasters were happy to take the flashing bulbs of publicity. They distracted the fans and kept the interviews quick. They barely mentioned the earlier fireball monstrosity or the carnage it left behind.

  Later, the world learned of King Clarence Bern-Out-Stein’s death. It rocked the racing world and tears rolled down every face. Richard Sand’s first victory was bittersweet to say the least.

  ***

  A heavily televised funeral occurred five days later. The cathedral’s patrons spilled out into the street. Grown men stood with tears in their eyes as they mourned a racing idol. Tearful sobs rocked the church.

  A grief-stricken wife walked her teenage son and daughter to the front pew. A custom chrome coffin sat sealed before them. Indiana thought she had finished all her crying. But it never really stopped. She cried for the future she would miss with her father. Minutes turned into hours as various remembrances highlighted a noble man who was a friend to all.

  Indiana kissed the cold coffin and placed a bright pink rose on its smooth door. Turning toward the crowd, she was shocked at the emotional trauma on display. Everyone had shiny jawlines of tears.

  She easily narrowed in on Richard. He wore sunglasses darker than night. Today he stood alone. No beautiful woman or bright eye candy stood there to console him. He looked to be in the depths of despair. He had been sitting right behind Indiana, in the second row.

  Indiana walked with solid dexterity, but every once in a while tears continued to slide. Her body felt physically frozen and stuck in mourning. A distinct sadness settled into her bones, and she knew it would be there forever.

  The somber progression ended at the black stretch limousine. Indiana was reluctant to enter the waiting vehicle. She stared around blankly and stood beside the idling transport.

  Another vortex of emotions assaulted her when the coffin arrived at the curtained vehicle. Richard stepped up beside her and placed a hand on her arm. Indiana realized she had been swaying weakly.

  Richard knew about the politics of the Bernstein family. He stood in their midst easily. The gravity of the situation, and proper mourning etiquette, placed him close enough for a hug and handshake. It would be the most emotional comfort Indiana could receive.

  “Richard, you are coming with us, how nice.” Mrs. Bernstein brightened intensely and slid across the seat.

  “Actually, I’ll follow in the Lamborghini.” He turned toward Indiana. “Indy, would you like to ride in my new car?”

  She nodded quickly. If he asked her to stick a foot under the rolling tire of the limo she would have done it, just to feel something besides a puffy face and burning eyes. Indiana quickly put distance between herself and the hearse. She followed the man her father had called a brother from another mother. She remembered them laughing because there wasn’t one physical link between them.

  His car was short, sleek, orange, and chromed. It came alive with a flash of its lights. Richard opened the passenger door for Indiana, and patiently waited to shut it.

  Richard climbed into the luxurious capsule of speed. The car started with a push of a button. Indiana’s mood improved with the beautiful and expensive surroundings.

  “I like your car.” She ran a finger along the hand stitched dash.

  “Thanks. I thought it would make me feel better.” He left off when he applied his foot to the gas. They followed the exiting procession until the stretched vehicles turned left. Richard continued straight. The flashy car distracted their conversation from other things. They idled wildly for a green light. With the bright go ahead, the Lamborghini gained speed in a second.

  Indiana smiled for the first time in days. Richard stomped on the gas and Indiana laughed.

  Richard gave his sweet, dimpled grin. “That’s better. I knew you had a smile in there. Your laughter is even better than the sound system of this brand new car.”

  Every little thing seemed to sober Indiana. “My life will never be the same.”

  “True, it won’t.” He shifted the car up a gear.

  Indiana sat silent for a long time.

  Richard kept his eyes straight forward and tried to console her. “You’ll always be your father’s daughter. You could’ve been given fifty years with another father who could’ve given you way less in life.”

  Indiana folded her arms. “Everything’s against me at every turn. I know what I want, and I know what I’m supposed to do, but instead I wait to grow up.”

  Richard grinned into the clear glass ahead of him. “Yes, you do need to grow up, but I hope you never change.”

  They arrived smoothly at the graveyard before the procession of loved ones. Richard’s striking self-assurance spurred her on. His hand still rested on the shifter knob.

  Indiana bravely put her hand atop his. “I won’t change if you promise to take care of yourself.”

  He remained very still and sober. “Please, promise me, Richard.” She breathed his name and her voice cracked. “I don’t know what I would do.”

  Indiana felt hysteria coming on. She didn’t continue talking because she couldn’t.

  The expression on Richard’s face was very somber when he agreed.

  “All right,” he said.

  Indiana looked at the full grown man beside her. She reached for the glasses half hiding his face and took them off. She searched his face for sincerity and found volumes of legible markings. The puffy bags under his eyes and pupils were missing their healthy glow. Two sets of eyes locked in recognition over the loss of a great human bond.

  Indiana forgot proper protocol and previous promises. She pressed her lips to his. It was softer than the sweet morning mist barely there. Richard opened his mouth slowly and they both found a little comfort in the mirrored joining. He let himself be kissed but he was powerless to pull the straightforward girl from his face. His hands were clinched beside the steering wheel and the passenger headrest.

  Indiana noticed the one-sided petting and stopped. She hid her forehead in his resting arm. She received a one-armed hug, but it wasn’t enough for her. The sound of approaching vehicles broke their silent commune. Indiana sat back and tried not to notice the puddles h
er tears left behind on his dark suit.

  “It’ll be all right, Indy. Things always change, but you’re strong and will be just fine.” Richard nodded at her.

  The limo parked two cars away from the Lamborghini and Indiana gave a brave smile.

  “I know. Thanks, Richard. You always know how to make me feel better.”

  Indiana had prepared herself for the rest of the worst day of her life. She stepped from the car slowly with steadfast determination. Indiana didn’t expect Richard’s car to lurch from the curb and speed out of the cemetery.

  Chapter 3

  Indiana Bernstein flew to the private school the next day. It looked old and set in darkening stone. Tall, drafty hallways connected the overwrought rooms of learning. Its newest pupil felt immune to its charm. Indiana would never adapt to the itchy wool skirt hanging loosely to her knees. Bright white socks almost kept her legs warm, but almost wasn’t good enough for her.

  The prestigious establishment already had a full roster. All the healthy young ladies were born to the golden or silver spoon. Indiana stood out right away as the new girl starting classes halfway through the school year.

  Ritualistic hazing came with the privileged territory. Unfortunately, other newbs had already endured them. All of the bothering was completely concentrated on her. They were little things, but happened way too much.

  One night she woke up with slivers of soap in her mouth. The next day, someone threw something red into a white load of laundry. Wearing pink socks was outside the dress code, so again she felt ostracized.

  Indiana felt out of place at every point. It didn’t take long to get out of the normal textbooks and into a higher placement. Her youth added other problems to the experience of formal education.

  A constant state of bereavement compounded everything. She isolated herself in her studies. She unintentionally topped the scholastic charts. Not because she was brilliant or in the realm of a genius, but she had nothing else to pursue.

  Her communications with her mother went the same way. Indiana begged and pleaded, using everything she could to get away from the school. She wanted to be back home in her old life more and more every day.