Ashley let out a huge sigh of relief as she walked through the pit gate. She hadn’t tried to get into the pits since she’d been denied entrance a couple weeks before. At the time she hadn’t been clear on whether it was a permanent ban or whether it was for one week, but in any case it had been worth a try to see if she could get in this time. As it turned out, either they had forgotten about it or it had just been for the one week, because she was let through without question or comment.

Now, maybe, finally she could get through to Matt d’Lamater! For a couple months he had seemed to be the key to getting her revenge. But she just hadn’t been able to get to him, other than the one time up in Paddington when he’d been so loyal to his girlfriend that her best feminine approach had only briefly gotten the tiniest bit of a rise out of him – certainly nothing close to what she needed. But in the last couple weeks she’d seen the chubby bitch around Bradford with Chuck Austin. If that didn’t just take the prize! Chuck had left her to take up with that miserable scumwad! There needed to be some real serious getting even done about that, especially with the way he’d brushed her off after his car got wrecked by that middle school brat last spring. That could wait, because it could be easily dealt with once school got going – he was going to be a senior, after all, and that meant easy to get to. She could make his last year of high school hell if she really wanted to.

Savoring that future revenge and stockpiling potential plans for the future, Ashley walked down to the gate through the barrier to wait until she could cross the track. Once again she was armed for bear – short cami top with no bra, and another very short skirt. If that skanky bitch had really dumped Matt, maybe she would be in a great position to catch him on the rebound. If she could just get his attention for a while, that upstart little bitch was going to be toast . . .

Finally the qualifying run ended and the safety worker opened the gate so she could walk across the track to the infield pits. It seemed like a long time since she’d been there. Maybe this would be the night.

She found Matt parked in his usual spot toward the north of the pit lane. He had the car off the trailer and was piddling around with it. She looked around, and there was no sign of the girl who had been stuck to him like a leech for weeks, so maybe her guess was true and they had broken up. So much the better.

She walked up next to where he was working on his car, and said in her sexiest voice, “Well, hello, stranger.”

“Hello, stranger to you,” he replied neutrally. “You’re hard to get hold of, you know.”

“Why?” she purred. “Have you been wanting to talk to me after all?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I was wrong about what I said when you were up to my house. You were right. My girlfriend didn’t stick by me, she won’t even talk to me, so I guess that’s all over with.”

Bingo! She screamed mentally. The door was open after all! “Oh, that’s a shame,” she said in a voice that indicated she wasn’t really sorry. “But I guess she didn’t deserve someone like you, anyway.”

“Yeah, but all that’s in the past, now. She found another guy, and that’s that.”

“Well, hey,” she said slowly and saucily, putting her hand on his shoulder so that he could feel that she really cared. “You know that sometimes you have to put the past behind you and move on.”

“I guess I’m ready,” he snorted.

“Good,” she smiled, pulling on his shoulder a little to turn him around. As he turned to face her, she added, “Because I’ve been waiting.”

“For me?” he asked, looking into her eyes.

“Yes,” she replied as she pulled him close to her lips. “For you.”

*   *   *

In the weeks since Larissa’s breakup with Matt, she’d parked her car in the pit stall next to Will’s and Telzey’s; Jack’s pit stall was just across the way. With all the car swapping that had taken place earlier, everything seemed out of place, especially since everyone either hung out at the Kaufmann’s hauler or at the threesome’s pit.

“Hey,” Jack commented to the three, who were adjusting the seat and belts of Jack’s “new” 25 car to fit Larissa. “You won’t believe who I just saw.”

“No, I’ll bite,” Chuck said from inside the car, where he was adjusting the seat.

“Ashley’s back,” he said. “I just saw her in a big lip lock with d’Lamater.”

“She’s welcome to him,” Larissa snorted. “I hope she takes him for as bad a ride as he gave me.”

“With Ashley, you have to figure that’s a possibility,” Chuck said. “There, that’s a little better. You want to try another hot lap or two?”

“Yeah, that feels better,” she agreed. “I felt like I couldn’t reach the pedals.”

With that done, Larissa headed out onto the track. They had been fiddling with the setup of the car some, although time had run out to make any major changes, but it had seemed to her like the car was sloppy, and this time it still did. After a couple laps, she brought it back in. “I don’t know why,” she said, “but it feels like I have a tire low.”

“Could be,” Jack said thoughtfully. “I know I checked them earlier, but let me check again.”

He walked around the car, just kicking tires – and the right front tire seemed soft to him. Curious, he headed over to a tool box, grabbed a tire gauge, and discovered that the tire had about half the air pressure it should have had.

“Well, well,” he said to no one in particular. “Houston, we have a problem.”

“Low tire?” Chuck asked. “How could that happen? I checked it, too.”

“Don’t know,” Jack shrugged. “Maybe a bead could have been screwed up in the accident and it only leaks under stress. No big deal, though, there are some spares in the hauler. Let’s just change it.”

While not exactly NASCAR pit stop time, it only took a few minutes to have the car jacked up and a replacement wheel and tire installed. “Try it now,” Chuck told her.

It took Larissa a few minutes to wait out the line for a hot lap, but when she got on the track Chuck could immediately see the improvement with his stop watch. “She picked up, and I mean she picked up a lot,” he said. “Sometimes it’s the simple things that throw you.”

In a few minutes she brought the car back in. “That’s lots better,” she said. “And I mean lots better. Jack, you might want to think about driving this after all.”

“Naw, let’s leave things the way they are,” Chuck advised. “We’ve already got the scorers thoroughly confused, there’s no point in making it worse. Besides, we’ve got qualifications coming up in a few minutes, anyway.”

*   *   *

After all the time that Ashley had spent getting close to Matt, there was no point in rushing things now, she thought. Half an hour of having him thoroughly preoccupied probably wasn’t enough for her to be able to spring what she wanted on him; she needed to be sure she had him wrapped around her little finger first. There was no point in hurrying things if she wanted to get them done right. After all, she’d missed before, but now it was her turn.

It was clear that Matt was a little stunned by her attentions – which was exactly what she intended. The end was in sight, now! She might have to put up with this dork for a couple evenings, but she had no doubt she could get him to do what she wanted.

Being a little dazed didn’t stop him from going out and laying down a blistering qualifying time, nearly the best he’d run all season. It was just a little irritating a couple minutes later to have the 24 car beat him out for the fastest qualifying time, which cost him a couple more points. He wasn’t out of the points championship yet, but after the failures of the last three weeks, it was almost out of reach – and would be if the three points leaders continued to run well.

In spite of it being announced in several different ways over the loudspeakers, having Ashley all over him caused Matt to not really notice the car switching that was going on. For instance he noticed Larissa’s car qualifying, if not particularly well, but wasn’t aware that Larissa wasn’t driving it. As always, he was trying to avoid Larissa and the Austin crowd, and besides, tonight he had Ashley. That took a lot of sting out of things.

Things weren’t terribly surprising in the first heat. The 24 car had been getting faster all season, and it was really blistering the track tonight; as Matt sat in the lineup waiting for the second heat, he noticed that it had a good, solid lead at the end of the heat. That kid is going to be tough to handle if she sticks around, he thought. Maybe it was just as well that he didn’t plan on running Pony Stocks next year, but right now, she could actually help him out by taking wins and spots that would otherwise go to the people who were ahead of him in points.

Then it was time to get out on the track for the second heat. As usual, the 17 car was at the end of the field due to its fast qualifying time, so he had the whole field of eight other cars to pass in eight laps. They got out on the track, circled a few times to bring up engine and tire temperatures, and then the green flag went down. As he usually did, Matt headed to the outside to gain what places he could in the first turn, and picked up a couple more in the second. He was running in fifth at the end of the first lap, right behind the 57 car. He dove inside and started to pass in turn one, but the car in front moved down to block, and he missed his pass.

Damn that Larissa! Why did she think she could race him? His car was faster than hers, and he had made sure of it back before the season started! Even though they’d broke up, she ought to know that she’d better get out of the way when she saw him coming!

The straights at Bradford were short but as the two of them went down the back stretch he happened to think that maybe Larissa hadn’t seen him coming. There were no mirrors, after all. It didn’t matter – there was another chance right now. Again, he dived to the left, just as the car in front moved down against the inside wall. Blocked again!

Maybe he ought to let her know he was there. He kept his foot down on it, closed to the bumper of the 57 car in the corner, and gave it just enough of a tap to let Larissa know he was there, and another tap as they went down the front stretch. Still, the 57 car was in front of him in turn one, and the laps were winding down quickly if he wanted to get to the front. He gave the bumper of the 57 one more tap just for general principles, then decided to try the outside in the next turn. He set up a high line, deciding to cut it just as close as he could to remind her who was boss. As they were headed out of the corner he had his nose just up about even with her back bumper, concentrating on the pass, and didn’t quite realize that she was drifting up the track . . . the bumpers touched, and the speed difference was enough to get him sideways. He didn’t spin it, but he was as close as that to doing it.

It took another half lap for him to get the thing gathered up enough to try it again. At least this time he figured that if he was going to go around the outside he’d better leave her a little bit of room. It took him most of the next lap to actually make the pass, running side by side, with Gustafson right on his tail.

The remaining few laps were spent desperately trying to keep Gustafson from passing him in the 12 while he worked around the remaining cars in front of them. Then, to top it off, Gustafson got a better line on him in the last corner, drag raced him to the start-finish line, and beat him by half a length.

Matt was just about fuming when he pulled back into the pits, but at least he saw Ashley standing there waiting for him. “Good deal,” she smiled. “You almost won it.”

“I could have won it,” he snorted, “if Larissa hadn’t blocked me for so many laps. I just didn’t have time enough to get far enough ahead of the 12 by the time I finally got by her.”

“Did she try to spin you when you got sideways there?”

“No, I don’t think so,” he said. “I really shouldn’t have been that close and I don’t think she’s good enough to pull that little trick on purpose, anyway. It was just a racing thing. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to wring her neck right about now, first for dumping me the way she did, and then for blocking me like that.”

“Are you going to go get in her face about it?” Ashley smiled. If there was any hope of reconciliation between the two that would freeze her out, a good fight might bring it to an end.

“Naw, no point in it,” he shook his head, although still obviously mad. “If nothing else, she’s going with Chuck Austin now. There’s no way I could win the championship if I get my butt booted from the track.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Ashley agreed, knowing that being kept out of the place would louse up a lot of things, including her plans. She put her arm around his butt and leaned back up against the car, watching as Will won the third heat in the 89 car.

It was a hot and sticky night. Normally, Matt would just have hung around in the pit, talking with some of his friends and maybe having a couple heartburns on a bun, but having this beautiful babe hanging around him changed his priorities just a little. He suggested that they move into the cab of his truck, where he could turn on the engine and run the air conditioner while they talked a little more peacefully – and, he thought, maybe get a little more personal, as well. Maybe not as personal as he would like, but a little more personal.

*   *   *

As the intermission was winding down, Matt got into the car and buckled himself in. Before he pulled his helmet on, Ashley reached in and kissed him. “Good luck, Matt,” she said. “You deserve to win this one.”

“Yeah, if that new fuel pump works all right,” he sighed. He had explained all the hassles had with the car crapping out in the features to Ashley in the previous hour or so, a topic he was sure she really wasn’t all that interested in.

“I’m sure it will be all right,” she smiled. “Just beat everyone to the finish line for me, will you?”

“I’ll do my best,” he smiled.

“If you win,” she snickered, “We can take off out of here, go somewhere else, and I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Sounds like a deal to me,” he replied with a grin.

A few minutes later the Pony Stock Feature rolled out onto the track. This promised to be the chance Matt had been waiting for to reverse his recent slide of bad luck, especially since he was starting at the outside of the back row, his favorite spot, with the 89 car next to him and the 24 just ahead. The 25 car, often back with them, was partway up in the pack. Well, new car, teething troubles, he thought. Tough luck for Kaufmann, but at least it would help him climb in the points.

They ran around the track for the normal number of laps before the green flag fell. As normal, he tried to jump the start to the outside – he had more cars to get around in the feature, but more time to do it. Sometimes it worked, but sometimes it didn’t. This was one of those times that it didn’t – about half a dozen other cars had the same idea, and the field was four wide, going on five wide as they charged into turn one. Somewhere up ahead someone bobbled, someone else hit them, and all of a sudden he was slamming on his brakes, lucky to avoid the mess.

It took a while for things to get cleaned up; the wreckers had to haul two cars off the track. Wolsley’s 48 was one of them; tough luck for a guy who had been having a tough luck season. The other one was the 20 car; Matt thought the car looked like a mess when he went past it.

When the time came for the restart, Matt figured that a lot of the drivers up front would be a little more conservative after the crash, so this might be the time to stick his neck out. He hung back a little going into the last turn before the green, hoping to generate a little run, and in fact passed a couple cars before he found himself being blocked by the 57 car again. In the heat of battle he didn’t worry about it much, other than to think that trying the outside on the first turn didn’t seem like something Larissa would do. Never the less, she was in front of him; there were cars all over the track and no place to go until someone moved somewhere. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that the inside line was working – the 89 and the 24 were down against the inside barrier and getting away from him, just like that.

It was still a mess in the third turn, three and four wide but with some positions changed. He still had a good view of the back of the 57 car with no place to go. As they came out of the turn things began to clear out a bit – there were still several cars in front running three wide. The mess was bad enough he couldn’t really pick out the 89, but he caught a flash of the distinctive green and white of the 24 car several cars ahead. They’d gotten lucky, while he’d gotten stuck behind the 57 – again.

For the moment, his main focus was to get past the 57 car in the heavy traffic. It wasn’t made any easier by the fact that the 57 was doing a pretty good job of passing the traffic up ahead of them, slower cars being left behind. Again, in the back of his mind he reflected that Larissa seemed to be driving pretty aggressively, and he wondered what had gotten into her. Finally, the 57 was slightly blocked by a slower car, and he managed to use that little bobble as a chance to make a pass – in fact, over two turns, two cars for the price of one. Only as he passed the second did he realize that the second car looked unfamiliar because it was the 25 in its new colors.

After another couple laps things had settled out to some degree, and he could figure out where he was: fourth, not bad under the circumstances. From what he could make out, Gustafson was in the lead in the 12 car, with Austin in the 89 second and the 24 car right in front of him in third. That was getting to be a tough one to pass, and tonight seemed even tougher. He tried to surprise the 24 on the high side, but the kid wasn’t having any of it. Then, he tried on the low side, with no more luck. He could see that they were both closing on the 89, who was battling for the lead with the 12.

In another lap it was a four-way battle for the lead, a battle that went on for several laps, mostly between him and the 24 car. Somewhere in the battle, and Matt wasn’t sure how, the 12 car faded from first to fourth, and seemed to be slipping back a little. That was fine with him; anywhere behind him was good. After several more laps, somehow the 89 slipped to third and it was just a battle between him and the 24.

The two-car duel turned into an epic. Matt tried high, and low. A couple times he was able to get his nose halfway past the green and white car, but never quite managed to get any farther, lap after lap. A couple of times the 24 was able to open up a length on him but by some feat he was able to get back up even. At least his car was running good tonight; whatever the problem had been, it must have cleared up. Out of the corner of his eye he happened to notice the crossed flags of the halfway mark of the race, but it didn’t give him any relaxation. He kept after the 24 car, but just wasn’t able to pass.

In fact, it was getting a little harder to even keep up with the 24 car . . . it didn’t really come to him until he realized that the 89 was trying to get under him. Mentally he pushed the throttle even harder, but where he’d been able to pull away from the 89 a little a couple laps before, he couldn’t quite do it now.

Then, he found the 89 pulling away from him and the 12 pulling alongside to pass. All of a sudden, he realized with a sinking heart that the car was crapping out on him again! The next thing he knew, the 25 was re-passing him. Two turns later, the 57 was battling with him for position, and he knew that if Larissa was passing him it was all going sour again.

He held out for another couple laps, the car running progressively rougher. Maybe he could stretch it to the finish, he thought, and at least salvage a few points, but two laps from the end the car cut out completely. He shoved it into neutral, hoping to be able to bring it home just by coasting. He made it one full lap, with cars passing him on the high side as he tried to stay out of their way, but on the back stretch he was barely moving. It was clear he wasn’t going to make it another full lap, so he turned into the pit entrance.

Fuming with disgust, he let the car use the last of its momentum to drift up to his pit stall. What in hell was the matter with this thing?