TY figured he could squeeze in a workout before heading to the office and suffering at the merciless hands of his assistant, Toni Bodine. Mondays and Tuesdays were his days to play catch-up, and while he had put in a full day doing appearances and autographing merchandise the day before, Toni wasn’t about to let him slide in late on a Tuesday, and it was already past eight.

He had been walking in the door to the gym when she had called him.

“Any chance you’re going to grace me with your presence today?” was her greeting.

Ty had to admit, he wasn’t a business-savvy kind of guy. He liked to drive; he liked to win. Plain and simple. Toni, who was in her fifties and a formidable force with a spreadsheet, kept him organized and where he was supposed to be. But he didn’t shirk his responsibilities, ever, and Toni knew that. She just liked to annoy him, and he liked to grumble and grouse. It was the way their relationship worked.

“Maybe if you beg.”

“No chance of that. But I imagine your sponsor might be less than thrilled if you aren’t at Wal-Mart at five P.M. to sign autographs.”

Pacing back and forth in front of the doorway, Ty said, “Have I ever missed a single appearance?” Those he actually liked doing. He enjoyed talking to the fans and having his picture taken. It was press conferences and cocktail parties he couldn’t always hang with.

“There was that one time at Talladega.”

“I had the stomach flu!” And they had had this argument a hundred times. Toni was never going to let him live down a virus he’d had no control over.

“So?”

“I was a public health risk.”

“Wimp.”

“And you’re a nag. But a gorgeous one.”

She snorted.

“Hey, did you order that book on audio that I left on my desk?” Toni was just about the only person who was privy to the fact that Ty was dyslexic, and she frequently ordered books on audio for him, and helped him sort through all his paperwork.

“Yes. Though I’m not sure why you want to know how to win yourself the heart of a race car driver.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Ty frowned.

“It’s a dating manual on how to win a race car driver in six easy steps. The end goal is marriage.”

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Ty was shocked. What the hell did that mean? Why would Imogen have a book like that?

“I am not kidding you. Where did you get it from anyway?”

“From a friend.”

“A female friend? Was it Nikki? Because that would not surprise me in the least.”

“No, not Nikki. We’re done. It was someone else, a sort of new friend.”

“Well, it looks like your, ahem, friend is on the prowl for a driver. Careful, Ty.”