Marcus continues. “This is actually the first time we’ve ever had interns. I suggested it a couple of years ago and corporate finally agreed this year. So, I can tell you the job description, but honestly, it might change a bit over time as we figure out what’s best for you to do. Basically, the team travels to the racing location each week during the season, and we stay in hotels and for the race. I’m in charge of coordinating the TV interviews and fan autographs and stuff like that, but a lot of times it’s overwhelming. I need someone to be my assistant, but someone who will also find ways to help out wherever they’re needed. Maybe that’s helping me book a hotel room, or ordering dinner for the guys, or running back to the big rig to get a new set of gloves if one of the guys rips a hole in one just before the race. Does that sound like something you’d be interested in?”
Hell yes.
I smile brightly. “Yes, sir, that actually sounds fun. I love staying busy and I’m very organized. I’d be happy to help you schedule and keep track of things.”
“Perfect,” he says, finishing his donut. “That’s what I want to hear. And how do you feel about flying? You scared of it?”
“As long as the flying is in a plane, I’m cool with it,” I say.
He laughs. “Good. I’ve interviewed two people who said they were terrified of flying. They thought we’d be driving everywhere like a tour bus for a band or something.” He shakes his head. “No way—we fly. First class most of the time. If you’re good with that then you’re my best candidate so far.”
I grin. “I love flying.”
I’ve only been on an airplane once, for a family vacation to Disney when I was twelve, but I loved it, so I’m not exactly lying.
There’s a tap on the door, and I turn around to see a guy about my age standing in the doorway. “Hey, boss?” he says, glancing at me. “Oh, sorry.” He flashes me a bright white smile.
“What’s up, Jett?” Marcus says.
“Some lady on Facebook has been sending messages to all of us asking if she can pay us to give private lessons to her son while we’re in Dallas. We’ve all politely said no and she won’t stop and now she’s demanding that we put her in contact with someone on Team Loco’s management.”
“Of course,” Marcus says with an annoyed sigh. “I’ll deal with it in a minute.” He glances at his watch. “Hey, Jett? Ya’ll got five minutes until the thing in the lobby.”
“I know,” Jett says, tapping the door frame. “I’m on it.” He disappears and I turn back to Marcus.
Marcus sighs. “See what I mean? I’m always putting out fires. I need someone to help me with them.”
“Consider me your fire extinguisher,” I say with a grin.
This makes him laugh. “I like you, Miss Dunn. You have a good personality and a willingness to learn. Are you available for next year too?”
I tell him I’m free, and that I have no other obligations that would get in the way of working for him. He tells me again about the per diem and the accommodations that Team Loco provides, and the way he’s talking, it’s like I’ve already gotten the job. I’m scared to ask, though. Maybe he talks like this to everyone who interviews?
How many more people will he interview before he makes his decision? I bite my lip while he talks, wondering if this will all be for nothing.
Marcus checks his watch and stands up. I stand up, too, and we walk toward the door together. “If you’ll follow me,” he says, leading me out into the hallway.
There are more people than earlier in the hallways, and they don’t look like business people. Teenagers, kids, and parents are all walking toward the same direction that I am with Marcus. He leads me past the crowd and into a large event room that is set up with tables and chairs, like a panel at a comic convention. There are Team Loco banners everywhere, and even four shiny clean dirt bikes sitting on aluminum stands. There’s a rope partition keeping the spectators away from the bikes, but kids are lined up, pushing past each other to see them.
“We’re having an event today,” Marcus says, gesturing to the surroundings. “Team Loco is visiting five different cities this month and putting on a training camp for kids at each one. We’re starting off with a meet and greet, some PR, that kinda thing.”
I nod along like I understand even though I’m still taking all of this in. There’s another roped off area in the corner, with leather couches and a catering display of foods set out. A woman with a cameraman by her side is talking to a muscular guy wearing jeans and a red shirt. His messy brown hair looks like he just woke up, but he grins into the camera as he answers the woman’s questions.
“This is the team,” Marcus tells me. But there’s so much commotion and stuff going on that it’s not really a personal introduction. He’s just showing me the guys that are all behind the VIP-only barrier. I see the first guy who is giving the interview, and then the guy named Jett is sitting next to another guy with broad shoulders and a sharp jawline. A beautiful girl sits in Jett’s lap and she’s laughing at whatever jawline dude said.
Then, standing against the wall, is another guy who must also be a part of the team. He’s really tall, with lean muscle and colorful tattoos running up both of his arms. He’s staring at his phone, listening to his earbuds. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here, and while he’s totally gorgeous, he looks a little terrifying. His sharp features seem pissed off, his dark eyebrows arching as he stares at his phone. He has a five o’clock shadow and his lips are pressed into a thin line. Being that tall doesn’t help with the intimidation factor, either. I decide right away that I don’t want to meet this guy.
“I like you, Miss Dunn,” Marcus says, startling me. I’d almost forgotten that he was standing next to me. “Do you still want this internship?”
I nod. “Yes, I’d love to be considered for the position.”
He grins. “Great. Here’s your test.” He motions toward the scary tattoo guy. “You want the job? Get this guy to sign autographs, and you’ll be hired.”
Chapter 4
I swallow. I should have known this opportunity was too good to be true. I look at Clay, who is still leaning with his back to the wall, looking at this phone. As if he can sense me, he looks up and our eyes meet. He holds my gaze for three seconds. I freeze. He looks back at his phone, totally unaffected, but I feel as though he just shot a dagger right into my chest. With one look I can tell this guy is not friendly.
I should just turn around and drive back home because this task Marcus has given me is beyond impossible. I take a deep breath and glance over at Marcus, who is watching me with an inspecting gaze. Maybe he knew I would give up like this. Did everyone else before me do the same thing?
