Too Tough to Tame by W.S. Long

Author:W.S. Long [Long, W.S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: JMS Books LLC
Published: 2017-03-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

Caleb parked his truck and shut off the engine. He noticed his sister’s Jeep, but not his dad’s Ford pick-up truck in front of the building. Youngblood Racing’s office was housed in an old, but small Quonset hut in south Daytona. In the summer, the heat inside was only made bearable when air conditioning window units ran non-stop. There was little privacy inside. For this reason, Caleb’s sister, Joan, usually was out of the office, preferring networking and marketing at NASCAR headquarters, local restaurants, and coffee shops, charity events, and media meet-ups, when she wasn’t poring over the financials. In fact, Caleb was surprised that Joan was in, but his dad wasn’t.

The metal door creaked when he entered. Noel, his dad’s secretary, greeted him when he stepped inside.

“Hey, Noel. How are you? Earl here?”

“I’m fine, sweetie.” She stood and smiled as she pushed up the readers she had balanced on the tip of her nose with one hand, and placed the landline in her other down on the handset. “I think he said he was going to run an errand and be right back. Can I get you something? Some water? Sprite? Iced tea?”

Caleb nodded. “Actually, if you have unsweet tea, that’ll be good.”

Noel turned around and opened the small refrigerator, and pulled out an Arizona tea jug. Caleb chuckled to himself when he saw Noel’s gray-turned-almost silver hair was held by a large butterfly design barrette. Noel collected anything butterfly-related and had as long as he’d known her since his grade school years. Caleb moved closer and grabbed a Styrofoam cup next to her. As Noel poured, Caleb heard the shuffling of feet to his right.

“Well, well, little brother is here.” Joan, his older sister, stood wearing a blue polo with Youngblood Racing embroidered over her left breast, and khaki shorts. She cradled her cell in her hand, her elbow cocked at an angle, her phone hoisted at shoulder-height. Because Joan’s brown hair was pulled back, Caleb noticed that his sister’s high cheekbones were more pronounced.

She must have a hundred of those shorts.

“You don’t answer your texts or emails,” said Joan. Caleb noted that her tone was flat, not accusatorial and not angry. It was as if she expected this behavior from him.

“Don’t get mad. I wanted to give Sebastian a chance to look at them too.”

“And?” asked Joan.

“We both agree that the one photo of me, just in the safety suit by the car, is the best photo.”

“There were a lot more photos than that. You both only picked one? The same one?” Joan shook her head. “You did an interview with ‘Out’ last year, and also ‘The Advocate,’ right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Our website got a lot of traffic within a week of either magazine. So we need to promote your sex appeal to a market that we haven’t explored. We can’t use the headshot, over and over, from last year.”

“I’m okay with a new headshot or two. But, I’m not too crazy with the skimpy clothing pictures that were taken at the beach.

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