Back On Track
"Hey, Trent, you're on TV ."
Trent Matheson didn't look up from his laptop computer. "Am I with a blonde?"
He didn't know how the media managed to get so many different shots of him with so many different blondes. At the very least, it seemed like discrimination against brunettes. Trent had dated a brunette a couple of months back, he was certain. Almost certain.
The regular sounds of Matheson Racing's race car prep- aration—the clang of metal on metal, the hiss of the air guns, the whine of the welding torch—ceased as everyone except Trent looked up at the TV. Then Rod Sutton, Trent's crew chief, said, "She's blond, for sure. But not your kind of blond ."
Trent hit the Send button that would transmit his e-mail newsletter to thousands of NASCAR fans all over America, then checked out the TV high on the wall at the far end of the workshop. The sound was off, but sure enough there he was, his face blown up large behind the woman. Like Rod said, she was blond. Pretty, but awkward-looking. The on-screen caption read Kelly Greenwood, Sport Psychology Consultant.
"Not another one," he muttered. Another expert with an opinion on what made Tr ... read full excerpt from Back on Track ebook
