Читать книгу Courting Disaster - Kathleen O'Reilly, Kathleen O'Reilly - Страница 11

She hadn’t planned on watching the racing trials on Friday. Elizabeth had hair to wash, fingernails to polish, but there she was, sitting in the tippy-top row of the stands, camouflaged in a blue cotton skirt, with a scarf on her head and Hollywood sunglasses over her eyes—so hopefully he wouldn’t notice. And she didn’t think that he did, because the stands were full and the track down below was busier than any beehive she’d ever had the pleasure to study up close.

It was a hair-raising experience watching the low-slung cars and the whole crew of mechanics that did everything but wipe the windshield and buff the tires. She kept telling herself that driving a racing car was not hazardous to anyone’s health, but her eyes were trained on the red car with the hot-looking driver, and every time he went around the track, her nerves followed in those same fast-wheeling curves, dragging her stomach along behind. It wasn’t pretty, and Elizabeth thought it wasn’t healthy—not only for the low-slung cars, but for her, as well.

The whole circuit format was new to her. These weren’t circles, but sharp, winding turns that didn’t seem to scare anybody but Elizabeth. The engine buzzing was loud in her ears. Even from the top of the stands, it was louder than the speakers at one of her concerts, ringing in her head. The first time around, all twenty-one cars raced, but then a few minutes passed and officials came and eliminated some from the track. Both of Sterling’s red cars stayed in. A few minutes later, the officials returned, kicked off more cars, and this time there were only ten cars left, including the two red ones.