“Then you wouldn’t know that people eat that stuff up with a spoon and beg for more. The bigger the drama, the higher the conflict, and the more naughty the high jinks, the better the viewing.”
“I draw the line at having sex in the cars just to improve ratings,” Dixon said with a serious face that I thought indicated he was annoyed until I saw the glint of humor in his eyes.
“Fine, but don’t complain later that I turned you down. I’d say yes to dinner, but my dad and stepmom are flying out to see the start of the race tomorrow. We’re doing dinner together.”
“Ah,” he said, his expression smooth and unreadable. “Another time, perhaps.”
I threw caution to the wind. I mean, I grabbed it with both hands, dug my fingers into it to get it to pay attention, and flung it away from me as hard as I could. “Why don’t you join us?”
“You want me to meet your parents?” Something flashed through his eyes. It might have been surprise, or it might have been fear.
“Not like that. I just thought if you don’t have anyone to eat dinner with, you’re welcome to come along with us. But perhaps you’d like to stay with your brother?”
“I doubt Rupert would welcome me,” he said with a wry twist of his lips and a glance at where his brother was now very clearly flirting with Louise.
“Then it’s settled. Dad said he’d meet me in the lobby of the hotel at seven. Is that OK with you?”
“Yes, although it means missing the embarkation party with the other teams.”
“That starts at eight, and we should be done with dinner by nine. We can go after that, if you like.”
“That sounds agreeable,” he said politely, and I was suddenly possessed with the urge to grab him by his prim and proper head and kiss the daylights out of him. But instead of doing that, I simply gave him an innocent smile and returned to the Thomas Flyer to watch while Melody got a brief lowdown on how to drive the car.
The rest of the morning was spent in final fittings for the costumes and a lunch where the official race rules were discussed.
Unfortunately, I didn’t see Dixon at the lunch until it was over, so I sat with Tessa and Max and their friend.
“Now, I know you’re all aware this is a race,” Roger told us as we finished off some excellent salmon en croute. “But we don’t want anyone risking his or her life just to garner the prize. Therefore, the official race committee has declared that the U.S. segment will consist of points which you obtain by hitting checkpoints in the allotted time. So there’s no sense in racing flat out to get to San Francisco as fast as you can—each night we’ll have a designated stop, and your time getting to that stop will be recorded. If you get to it too quickly, it means you have been speeding, and you will be penalized. Likewise, if you get there past the allowed time, you will also receive a penalty.”
“That sounds smart,” Tessa told Max, who nodded.
“We’ll see if it works. I suspect that most people will be champing at the bit to be the first one to each day’s destination.”
“You can say that again,” I said. “Louise told Melody and me that if we make her lose any camera time, she’ll gut us with her nail scissors.”
Max looked startled, but Tessa laughed. “I suspect your car is going to have the most fun.”
“As you know,” Roger continued, “we will drive across the country on a variety of interstate highways. Although the original racers varied slightly from our route, for the most part our journey will mimic the path they took across the country. The route isn’t as direct as modern roads provide, so be sure to follow the instructions we give you and not a GPS unit’s directions. Once all active racers are in San Francisco, cars and drivers—as well as the film crew—will be loaded onto the two transport planes generously provided by our sponsor.” He named a company that I later found out provided petroleum to the Western world. “The flight to Beijing should take about sixteen hours. Following that, both you and the cars will be cleared through customs and the race will pick up anew. This time, however, it will be a race in the truest sense of the word, although, of course, we expect you to adhere to all local traffic laws and speed limits. The first person to follow the course route and reach Paris will win not only the race, but the twenty-thousand-dollar prize award for each member of the team.”
“We could get the roof redone,” Tessa told Max. “Or maybe throw it toward that cottage in Scotland you’ve been eyeing.”
“New car, and a trip to the Azores,” Max replied.
“I could put a down payment on a flat,” Melody mused. “And go to Australia.”
“What would you do with your money, Paulie?” Tessa asked.
I thought. It wasn’t enough for me to get my own house,and I had a car. “I think I’d use it to send my dad and stepmom on an around-the-world cruise. Or at least as long of a cruise as the money would buy.”
“How altruistic of you,” Tessa cried.
I didn’t correct her by telling her my motive would be to get Daddy out of my hair for a few months. Instead I smiled and turned my attention back to Roger.
“This afternoon we’ll allow you all to actually drive your cars at a location free from public traffic. Graham will be on hand in case there are any questions. This evening is the embarkation party, where we will film each of you on the eve of the great undertaking. You will not be in costume, but any thoughts you have about setting off on such a momentous journey should be saved for your individual filmed session.”
I thought about what I’d say for that, but couldn’t think of much that would interest anyone.
Paulina Rostakova’s Adventures
