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was a sucker for other people’s problems. She could hardly object, since that was how she’d ended up here, despite having no knowledge of or enthusiasm for motorsports. Bob had willingly accommodated her personal situation—not only couldn’t she afford to lose this job, she didn’t want to let him down.
    It’s one lousy day. Bob needs my help. “Okay,” she muttered. “I’ll do it.”
    Eli’s eyes were an emerald blaze of triumph.
    She should have guessed a man like him wouldn’t stop until he won.
    Â 
    A LTHOUGH THE RACE WASN’T until evening and the track didn’t open to most fans until lunchtime, there were enough invitation-only events going on to make the track feel busy much earlier.
    Jen took longer than expected to show Kyle the farm and introduce him to her grandfather—she’d told Granddad she needed to be at work early to help with driver liaison. So it was right at nine o’clock when she joined the line outside the tent on the infield where the Eli Ward Fan Club breakfast was being held.
    Overnight, she’d convinced herself she was worrying about nothing. This was a working arrangement, so the fact she found Eli overpoweringly attractive was irrelevant. She would treat him like…like one of her granddad’s chickens. She stifled a nervous giggle at the thought of clipping his wings.
    â€œSorry, miss, I don’t have your name.” The security guard on the door flipped the pages on his clipboard.
    Jennifer felt her face warm as people muttered behind her. “I’m, uh, Eli’s friend. He invited me yesterday.”
    â€œNo name on the list, no entry.”
    If she needed further proof that Eli’s invitation had been all about himself, not her, this was it. The line pressed forward, eager for her to move aside. She lowered her voice. “I’m his girl friend.”
    The guard snorted. See, she knew this was a dumb idea. Jen’s shirt started sticking to her back.
    â€œIs there a problem?” a male voice inquired behind her.
    Jen turned to see two very tall, good-looking men. They weren’t in the same league as Eli, but both exuded authority.
    â€œMorning, Mr. Sizemore.” The security guard stepped aside.
    â€œExcuse me,” Jen said, “is one of you Gil Sizemore?”
    The taller of the two, who had slightly darker hair, said, “That’s me.”
    Jen ignored the security guard’s chuff of annoyance. “I wonder if I could come in with you? I’m Eli’s date. Jen Ashby,” she added belatedly.
    Both men donned identical poker faces, only marginally less insulting than the guard’s snort.
    â€œYou’re with Eli?” Gil asked.
    â€œSince when?” the other guy chipped in.
    She and Eli had had about two minutes to agree on a story yesterday before his practice. She hoped she remembered it right.
    â€œEli spent some time in this area as a teenager.” She was several years younger than her supposed boyfriend, so she was unlikely to have known him back then. She hoped the men would overlook that logic flaw. “I work for Bob Coffman. Eli and I ran into each other yesterday and he asked me to spend today with him.”
    She appreciated that Eli had come up with a script where every word was true. Even if the implication was misleading.
    â€œSo, you’re not one of Eli’s fans?” Gil asked.
    â€œNo, sir,” she said fervently.
    â€œEli did mention he’d invited a guest to the breakfast,” Gil admitted.
    The other guy laughed. “Seems like he followed your advice, Gil.” Before Jen could wonder what he meant, he stuck out a hand. “I’m Quinn Parrish from Rev Energy Drinks, Eli’s sponsor.” He flicked the brim of her track ball cap. “We’d better get you a Rev hat.”
    â€œThe lady is with us,” Gil told the guard as he ushered her into the tent. He glanced down at