MAKING PROGRESS... of sorts (Part 172b)

MAKING PROGRESS… of sorts (Part 172b)

I stood there with what I know had to have been a puzzled look on my face and watched as she cupped her hand over the mouthpiece. I wasn’t sure it it was to keep me from hearing what she was saying or to keep Stan, her boss, who was sitting in the desk right in front of her from hearing. It seemed like a long time before she took the phone down from her face and sort of whispered a question to me… “What are you doing tomorrow night?” My answer was that it was nothing that couldn’t be changed. She immediately went back to talking on the phone and just before she hung up I heard her say that she’d “confirm” something and get back to the person. While hanging up the phone she looked up at me and told me she’d meet me in her car at the bank parking lot around 5:30pm… and proceeded to make another call. When I didn’t move she made a motion for me to leave.

Outside, on the street, I was completely confused. One minute we were making ‘small talk’ about my race car and the next thing I know she’s making a mysterious call that seemed to involve me. If it hadn’t been for the question about my availability the next night I wouldn’t have had any indication that her call had anything to do with me. I had the envelope from Stan with the information about possible investments in my hand that I knew I could read before 5:30pm but I didn’t want to go back to the bank. I stood there contemplating what I could do for the next 45 minutes or so and decided to head for the library which was about a five minute walk. Since it had been renovated I’d only been there the one time when the brokerage office ran a seminar on IPO’s (initial public offerings) and had only been in the conference room. When I walked in I saw the woman at the information desk was busy with something under her desk as all I could see was her back. I walked up and saw a very nice DP, only she was wearing a skirt and not slacks. She didn’t see me standing there so I had about a ten to fifteen second look at the waist elastics for a white slip and pale green panties. I was close enough to recognize the green elastic as being from a pair of Vanity Fair panties. Vanity Fair, at that time, didn’t use picot-edged elastic with the little loops but used a flat elastic that had something woven in it to make it shimmer. As I’ve written before, for some reason I got (and occasionally still do) a thrill knowing what brand of panties a female was wearing. When she finally realized I was standing there she apologized and pointed me in the right direction for the rest rooms. She was nothing special to look at and probably could’ve lost 10 or more pounds but it was something for me to think about while waiting for 5:30pm and Lynda. (BTW: I didn’t read the information on the stocks while there.)

Going to the library had provided an unexpected benefit (the DP) but another was that to get back to the bank I had to walk past the lot where Lynda’s car was parked. As I did I saw her start to duck down to get into it (a Corvette) and ran up to it. Her initial reaction wasn’t positive but she quickly told me to get in. After she started the car I expected her to drive me to the bank parking lot but she made a right turn as she exited. I started to say something but, as she’d already done a couple of times that day, put a finger to her lips indicating for me to be quiet. She took the left that took us across the river and to the County Center buildings. She then pulled into the empty parking lot by the Surrogate Court. In my mind this was turning out to be a full fledged adventure. When she shut the motor off, she, obviously anxious to talk, asked if I remembered the previous Summer when she’d asked me if I was interested in sponsorship for the race car. I did because the question had so excited me at the time I’d thought I’d stumbled on something really good for the team. But it had been shot down by just one word from me… “Ford”… when I told he we were running that brand of motor. Lynda’s father-in-law owned a Chevrolet dealership and they certainly weren’t going to help a team running a competitor’s motor. That conversation ended right there. However, when I answered affirmatively she got really excited and it was hard to follow her initial words.
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I’ve been struggling with just how to describe what followed without dragging it out. So, what I’m going to do is to give some background on her father-in-law’s dealership to shorten it… The father-in-law had set his business up in two separate parts…  a new car dealership and a used car division. He owned the dealership outright but for the used cars he had a partner. When opened the dealership he had a number of local investors including the owner of the biggest farm in the area. That man had a son who had gotten into stock car racing when he was a teen and had become successful, winning a number of track championships with sponsorship from the dealership. However, he was in a terrible crash at the track where the season ending championships were held and got hurt quite badly and gave up racing. The pit crew for the car had been employees of the dealership and were disappointed when they had to give it up. When used cars became much in demand, the father-in-law took in a partner to open and run a number of free standing used car lots. He’d been a member of that pit crew and when he was hiring people for the used car venture one of the people was a Southerner who had been a race car driver… and he was back into racing. However, after initial success in a lower class of cars they decided to move up to the top division and he'd become a ‘crash magnet’. The partner had been quietly looking to get involved with a car in the top division that was capable of winning. Lynda’s husband wasn’t actively interested in racing but had become good friends with the guy who was the partner with his father and Lynda talked with him quite often while her husband was away doing his service duty.
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I’d never seen Lynda this excited. I had to put my hand up to get her to slow down and when she did I found the call she’d made had been with the used car partner and he wanted to meet me to get a dialog started. Of course I had questions and they ranged all over the place with most of them impossible for Lynda to answer. It was during this time I got her to slow down enough to get what I printed right above this. But, I also found out what really had Lynda so excited. Ever since I’d driven her home on New year’s Eve when she was drunk she’d been after me to come up with something so she could repay me. This was it… putting me together with someone who could help me keep racing. It hit me like a ton of bricks… and I’d been satisfied with a few panty pictures. I didn’t know what to say except a meek “Thank you”. She said she’d get back to me the next day with a time to meet the guy. I was having a hard time breathing by then.

It was well after 6pm when I finally looked at my watch. I hadn’t called Elle and knew I was ‘in for it’ when I got home. I’d figured out the reason for Elle being so forgiving on Sunday was that she knew that with no motor and no money for the race car my racing days were over. Now I’d be headed home to face an angry woman for not having called and then to be told there was a chance that we’d  be able to continue racing. Not a good combination.

To be continued…