Chapter Two

“Dixie Colson’s office, may I help you?”

Cade smiled at the sound of Jackie Baldwin’s uber-professional voice on the other end of the telephone line. “Hey, Jackie, it’s Cade.” After a beat of silence, he added, “Craigston. Cade Craigston.”

“Hello.”

Cade sighed slightly at her aloof tone. Jackie of the long legs and long brown hair, and apparently today, of the long snotty attitude.

She totally wanted him, he was sure of it.

With a stupid grin on his face at his thought process, he continued. “Hi. Listen, is Cool Colson in? I need to talk to her. It’s urgent.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“To talk to someone I shared my Cheerios with in kindergarten? No, I have no appointment. Maybe you could, I don’t know, squeeze my phone call into his schedule between helping dudes whip up protein shakes or whatever she does all day.”

The silence told Cade that Jackie wasn’t a big fan of that suggestion of her boss’s day to day operations.

“She’s very busy.”

“Sweetheart, do you know what I do for a living? If I was a cabana boy in Cabo I could have her call me back whenever she got around to it, but as it is…”

Jackie sighed slightly, and then said, “I’ll put you through and see if she is able to answer. One moment.”

“Thanks, Jackie. Listen, next time I’m in Cali, we should get together, grab a bite, and you could tell me all about your fascinating self. Were you a model? I bet you were a model once, am I right? I’m totally right,” Cade said with a smile.

Like Jackie Baldwin would go out with him. She probably wouldn’t even let him valet park her car.

Women.

“Jackie? Hello?” Cade said in the receiver. “You? Me? Is it a date?”

Jeez, the gatekeeper from hell, Cade thought, hearing the line click over with absolutely no response from Jackie.

“Hello?” Dixie Colson’s smoky voice came on the line, and Cade couldn’t help but smile.

“Hey Dixieland, how’s it going?” Cade asked, and Dixie laughed her trademark explosive laugh.

“Hey, it’s Cade the Creeper! How’s it going with you? What’s going on? It’s been… what? Six months since we talked last?” Dixie asked, making Cade wince at the nickname he’d gained in junior high school after an unfortunately misguided make out session with Cindy Hooper under the bleachers.

“Something like that,” Cade agreed, choosing to ignore the dig at his name. “Listen, I’m in the weeds, man, and you have to help me.”

“What do you mean?” Dixie asked, her voice suddenly full of concern. “Are you okay, Cade? What’s happened? Is it your folks?”

Cade and Dixie had grown up in the same neighborhood in Modesto, California, attending school together from kindergarten to graduation. While they’d never dated or necessarily run in the same circles, they had always been friendly and had a teasing, brother-sister type of relationship. Both had left Modesto after graduation, but had remained in touch with phone calls, Facebook messages and the occasional visit when both were home for the holidays, their parents still living in their same houses on the same street they’d grown up on.

“I’m okay, but…”

“Oh god,” Dixie interrupted, already knowing what was coming. “No.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say!” Cade said, his voice raising nearly an octave. “God, nearly hurt myself there,” he said, clearing him throat and making Dixie laugh.

“I so know what you’re going to say,” Dixie retorted. “I don’t do the big egos anymore. Not after that fiasco with the Lakers locker room…”

“Dix, please. You’re the best trainer and physical therapist in the biz. You have to know that my guy got hurt in the last race,” Cade pleaded. “You have to rehab him.”

“No, I don’t. I don’t need to babysit some cocky racer who’s too stupid to slow down in the curve.”

“He got bumped.”

“Whatever. No. I have a full roster – I’m surprised Jackie even let your call through,” Dixie said, though her tone was teasing.

“Yes, I know. You’re very busy and important. And I have access to ridiculous amounts of money with which to pay you to get my guy in shape for Qatar testing.”

“No.”

“Listen, stubborn ass,” Cade said. “I didn’t want to have to do this.”

“What?” Dixie asked, her voice suspicious now. “Do what?”

“Either help my guy rehab, or I’ll tell your dad about the time you made out with Tom DeKay.”

Dixie sighed. “Seriously? Blackmail using my parents? That’s what you’re going with?”

“If that doesn’t work, I could always tell the quartet about that incident after the football game during our sophomore year…”

“Fine, fine!” Dixie interrupted, cutting him off with an affected snarl. “Stop.”

“You’ll do it?” Cade asked.

Dixie rubbed the bridge of her nose in surrender. “I need details.”

“He needs to rehab his foot and leg from surgery, and he needs to bulk up his core and arms for the season. PT is priority, but training would be great. You’re the best in the business – you’re tough, you’re experienced, you’re smart and you’re a hard ass when it comes to trainer. My rider is disciplined, but only if he likes doing it – he hates gyms, and he hates being told what to do. You rock at telling grown men what to do.”

Dixie laughed. “Flattery will get you everywhere. How long until Qatar tests?”

“A couple of months,” Cade replied smoothly. “Plenty of time.”

“What about my other clients?”

“We’ll make arrangements to have you go back to California to work with them as needed,” Cade said. “Ridiculous amounts of money, remember?”

“Wait,” Dixie said slowly “What do you mean, back to California? Where the hell am I going for the next ‘couple of months’, which in CadeSpeak means like three months straight, then another year of babysitting after that.”

“Well, here’s the thing...”

**

Dixie clicked the phone off and leaned back in her chair with a groan. She tugged her fingers through her auburn hair and resisted the urge to growl into the silence of her small office.

The opportunity for an American to work on the MotoGP circuit as a trainer was a major deal, Dixie knew; most of the teams and staffers were exclusively European.

And to get to whip someone into shape both on the PT front and the training front was always a fun challenge.

And she was a nobody in the business, really; yes, she’d had quite a few professional athlete clients, but in a business as cutthroat as hers, any endorsement, especially of the MotoGP caliber would ratchet up her business a few notches.

But Wyoming? In the dead of winter? With a racer known around the circuit as being reticent and aloof?

Not what she was looking for in her life right this second.

Damn that Cade Craigston, she thought, though with a smile on her face. He knew before he even called that she’d do it.

Appealing to her ego, her competitive nature… and the touch of blackmail hadn’t hurt either.

He knew she was going to do it, and he was right.

“Jackie!” Dixie called out to her assistant, friend and right hand woman. “I need a plane ticket, a packed bag and a really big Diet Coke!”

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