We soon reached my house and I thanked him for the ride. I told him that he could keep the car for now, under intensive care, until I was healed to hand it over to me. He said it was fine and it was high time that Maria took over a new lover, handsome and young, his exact words.

He took most of my weight on him, since the nurse told me not to put weight on the injured leg. I was thankful that he didn't put up another stunt of carrying me around like his new pet cat. He carried my bag on his shoulders and when I pointed out where I had kept my keys to open the locks, he promptly did as I had asked him to.

He welcomed himself in and before I could tell him to make himself at home, he was attacking my fridge and holding a small bottle of orange juice that I had got a week ago.

"You only have healthy food for a winning racer." He observed. I shrugged in response and took a seat on the couch, keeping my right leg on the stool, at a considerable height. "How does it feel now?" He pointed the juice bottle towards my leg and joined to sit next to me.

"It's better now, I guess." I said, leaning against the backrest. "I'll be okay sooner than the nurse says, right?"

"Of course, babe." He said. He took my leg on his lap and bent towards it for inspection. He pressed the sides of the ankle together. "Does it pain here?"

"Ow, a little." I winced. He looked at it as if he were a doctor himself, pressuring some points than other.

"It seems to be fine, Scarlet." He said, keeping the leg back on the stood. He took a big sip from my orange juice and smiled at me. "It will only be another week, since you will be able to jump back into one of the races and win them too."

The mention of the race, reminded me of race that I played not so long ago. The whole idea of the after party was wasted on me and I still didn't understand the need to say it was a after party.

"Why is it called an after party?" I asked, out of the blue. I shifted to a more comfortable position and turned towards him. "I mean, we both know it was not what it was supposed to be."

Robert laughed at my choice of words. "It's more to silence the legal world out there." He patted my head, as if he were teaching a small kid how to write. "With the name of after party, no one bothers to know about its whereabouts. Besides, most of the racers want to chill, you know? Relax after the stress of racing and all that."

I nodded my head in understanding. But I personally, would have preferred to go home and rest, rather than chill. To get wasted and intoxicated as a stress buster was not in my good books. "I would never do that." I said out loud.

"You would never?" Robert asked, cocking his eyebrow at me, teasingly. "Sweet pea, you were the one who had drunk four bottles of high quality beer."

I felt my cheeks heat up. "It was different." I murmured.

"Well, they call it to release stress." He shrugged. "Same shit, different words."

I took the orange juice bottle which he had kept on the table and took a sip from it. It was then that I realized that I was hungry.

"But you should have a control on yourself, Scarlet." Robert continued, barely looking at me. "What were you thinking, seriously? I've already told you not to mix up your personal life with the race, and yet, you always do the same."

I sighed. I had thought that was going to be easy and had always scolded Dad for getting one and the other mixed up, promising myself that if given a chance to me, I would always make sure that there was a clear line between the two. But I had trouble there too.

"Just because I let you free doesn't mean that you can go do whatever you want." He said. "You just passed out when you were talking, Scarlet!" He put his hands up in the air. It seemed as if he was worked up on something. He stood up and paced around the living room which were precisely five steps in his long strides. He stopped short in front of me after two laps. "Do you have any idea what would have happened in a place like that with a girl who's laying unconscious because she got herself high more that she could handle?"

I blinked at him. Why was he mad now? I thought the whole discussion about the race and the parties were over. I had even made truce with him and now, all of a sudden, he comes shouting at me? It was not fair at all.

"I knew you would take care of me." I said in a low voice.

"That's not my point." He rubbed his temple and pushed his hair unceremoniously behind his head. With the current expression he looked like a demon child that I had read about in my early school days. "There was no one around you who knew you. No Dad, no Dan, no one around." He came and sat next to me. He seemed to have calmed down a bit but was still adamant to make his point clear. "Anyone could have taken advantage of you and you wouldn't even know."

I put my head back and closed my eyes. No matter how much I tell that I had a lot going on, by the end of the night I would just be another girl for those racers. I didn't need any colorful information because I had heard a lot of rumors floating around in the tracks all these years.

Robert tucked my lose frills behind my ear and stroked my head. "Scarlet, promise me you won't get drunk again like that."

I opened my eyes and looked at him. There was concern in his dark eyes as if he had witnessed something happen with similar background as mine. But there was also something else that I couldn't pin point at the time. When he saw me reading him, those expressions changed in a fraction of a second and he smiled, all the emotions already erased.

"But with me, it's a different story." He gave a teasing smile. "You can be yourself and drink your ass out, I don't mind. In fact, the drunk you is more amazing."

I rolled my eyes. He was back.

"How did you take me to your place?" I asked. "And where did you sleep when I slept in your bed? I mean, there was only one and I saw the place."

"It's now that you want to know." He laughed. "Trust me babe, I'm all gentlemanly. I wouldn't do anything that you don't want to do."

I felt jittery. "What if I told you things when I was drunk?" I asked in a small voice. I still didn't remember all the things that happened once I was inside that funeral home.

He pulled me towards his side and half hugged me. "I wouldn't." He said as a matter of fact. He then kissed the side of my head and smiled down at me. "Because, I would want you to remember them all."

---

"What the heck happened?" Dad was like a mother chicken and dragged himself towards the couch, ready to inspect my ankle.

There was a small ankle binder around it that the nurse had put. The pain had reduced since I hadn't moved from my spot the whole day.

"I fell down the stairs." I said, with a sheepish smile on my face. "The nurse says it will be all over before I know it."

"You are a racer now, Scar." Dad was in his overprotective mode now and there was no stopping him. "You cannot afford these injuries."

"I know." I said, tucking my hair. "Well, it was an accident."

"It'll heal with fresh Salmon, Mr Stone." Robert shouted from the kitchen.

He had stayed over without an invitation. When he heard my stomach grumble for food, he volunteered to feed me. He had even bought groceries and two big salmon fishes and promised to feed me with garlicky roasted broccoli. With the aroma that was coming from the kitchen I was sure he was a great cook.

"Bert's here?" Dad asked, surprise etched, not only in his voice but in his face as well.

In all the time Dad was a racer, we never once had a racer guy at our place, not even Dan had stayed over for more than an hour or so. With Bert, it was different and Dad was still not in the mood to accept the change.

"He was there when I fell." I added to get him some relief. "He was the one who took me home."

"Oh." He said and turned to make his way to the kitchen.

Though I had grown up with the racy atmosphere from an young age, Dad was very strict with me mingling with boys. It was secondary that he hardly made home, but whenever he did he always made sure that I had a disgusting impression on them - something about how they were not clean and things that would drive me away if anyone made a move at me. But when I actually got to know them personally, they were not so bad, well, not as bad as Dad had given an impression.

"Bert." Dad said.

I strained my back to peer into the conversation. It was something that I didn't want to miss. Being a racer himself, Dad never quite liked the idea of me hanging around with the track boys.

"Thank you for getting her home safe." Dad patted Robert's waist, since he couldn't reach his shoulders. "You cook too?"

"Yeah," Though I couldn't see Robert's face, I could tell he was giving him a signature confident smile. "Scarlet said that she was hungry and voila, I'm the chef. The nurse says that she tripped over a guy."

"I heard that, asshole." I shouted back at him.

"Language, Scar!" Dad laughed along with Bert. It seemed as if Robert had passed all the levels of awkwardness with Dad and was in laughing terms with him. Till now, it was only Daniel who had made it possible with Dad and all other racers were just acquaintances. "If your cooking is better, I'll probably hire you here."

"Dad, are you taking sides now?" I asked, perplexed that if I had known him at all. "I know all your weaknesses."

Another few comments went back and forth between them and soon they were best of buddies. With Dad telling him my childhood shenanigans and Rob telling him how silly I was when I had started learning racing, they had completely forgotten me.

I got up from my place. I had enough of their banters. When I spoke to tell them it was not true, they turned a deaf ear towards me and a few tries later, I gave up and heaved a heavy sigh. If the night's going to be so, I would want to fill my stomach and head to bed.

"Who the heck told you to stand?" Robert walked towards me, pushing me back to my place. I fell back into the old couch with a thud. "Haven't I told you not to walk about for two day?"

"I'm hungry and your heart warming conversations doesn't interest me." I huffed, folding my hands like a two year old. "I want my fish. If your meeting is not over I don't care if I have to go and serve it myself."

"Awe, poor baby's hungry, Ed." They were in first name basis now? He even had cut it short from Edward to Ed. Dad snorted. I blinked twice registering the fact that Dad was not only okay with Rob calling him Ed, but was also chill with him calling me baby. Rob just winked at my baffled look. "Come on, darling. Let's feed you. Ed, will it be okay if we have dinner in the living room?"

"Sure thing." Dad said, holding three plates on his lap as he wheeled himself towards me.

Soon everything was set on the small table in front of me with a light buzz of a week old baseball match running on the television. It reminded me of the times we had dinner when Mom was still alive. We would all gather together to say our prayer and then dig in on our food, cracking jokes and pulling each others leg.

"Don't tell me you don't like the fish." Robert disturbed my train of thoughts. "You haven't touched it at all."

I gave him my stink eye and took a good piece from my plate and put it in my mouth. The moment I placed it in, I knew it was the best fish I had ever tasted. I closed my eyes and savored the taste. "Wow." was all I could muster with my mouth full.

"This is great, Bert." Dad said, putting on the broccoli on his plate. "Though our Scar does cook, it doesn't come out like this -" When he saw me glaring at him, he smiled sheepishly. "- what I mean is that her style of cooking is different."

"That's better." I nodded in appreciation.

"Thank you." Robert said.

It was wonderful to see Robert blend in with us. He had not been here a lot of times to wander our kitchen with full confidence and stride. Yet, here he was cooking salmon for us, joking and laughing at stupidest of things that Dad said, as if he was... family.

The only think that surprised me was that Dad was so welcoming with him than he had been with any of the other racer boys. What made him attract towards Robert still remained mystery.

The dinner was smooth, with casual talks which mostly held baseball games that my Dad, an ex-racer, was so obsessed about. Robert, though, seemed to know everything - the players and last cup that one team had held high in the air, the coach who had retired recently and even the relationship status of the players. He also talked about the political matters and even some serious issues like global warming.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes when he said that the government had to do something about it. We, in fact, were racers who burnt gas with an entertainment goal, having no aim but to reach the black-white stripped lines as soon as possible.

That was when I realized that he was a people pleaser.

He would cook up stories and facts just to get one hooked in his conversation. He surely was an analyzer, picking up what his opponent was interested in and holding it against him to keep the talks going.

I was sure he was always up to date with all the new things that the world was coming up. He had an answer to everything - sports, politics, art and of course, cars. And when he didn't, he showed keen interest in getting to know what exactly it was.

There was no surprise when my Dad was one of his victims.

It seemed as if he had been in this for years, or perhaps a younger age. Making himself known and when he would walk by, people would say that Robert was their friend. He was so tactfully diplomatic when Dad raised questions about his whereabouts. With two hours of their conversation, my Dad hadn't even got a clue of his parents or his educational background.

"What's this?" Dad asked, from the living room.

In spite of Robert's protests, I had volunteered to help clean the dishes since the dishwasher that we owned was not working for the past few days. Though Robert ordered me to sit still, I couldn't let him clean up. It was one thing to let him cook and it was another thing to ask him to clean up after the cooking.

When I joined hands in scrubbing, Rob cleaned his hands and stood next to the sink watching me scour off the grime from the plates.

I strained my neck to see what Dad was referring to. He held few papers in his hand and I immediately knew what he was talking about.

"That's the registration letter of the car." I informed. There were only few more plates left and with that all the cleaning was done. Robert was not only a good cook, he was a clean cook too. The stove and the walls were clean without much splatter from his works.

"Car?" Dad wondered out loud. I was sure he was reading the papers as if it were his exams the next day.

I washed off the remaining utensils and wiped my hand clean. Robert took my arm and helped me get to the living room.

"It's a BMW?" Dad asked. "It's registered in your name!"

"I take it as a cue to leave now." Robert muttered. "And you," He pointed towards me as he picked up his jacket. "You take care. I'll come pick you up tomorrow."

"Bert is going to pick you up?" Dad was in a melodramatic mode now and with the eyes he was making, I was sure there was no getting back from it. "What happened to Nick or Lily?" He put his hands on his head in utter disbelief. "What the heck is happening in my own house?"

"Dad, calm down." I hopped next to him. "I told you about the BMW yesterday. It's registered in my name because I won it and it'll only be another month that I turn legally old enough to own one."

Robert stood by the door, crossing his arms, watching us carefully. Sometimes he scared me with all his voodoo skills, as if he were a black magician with all the glorious details of not only our present life but our past life as well. It felt as if he was watching us in a third dimension all together, examining and weighing each and every word that reached the innocent air.

"Since, I sprained my leg, I won't be able to use it for now." I explained slowly. "So, I've lent it to Bert here and he's going to be my driver till my ankle heals."

"Why the heck is he driving you?" Dad asked looking alternatively between the two of us. "Doesn't he have work?"

"Other than flirting with all the girls he sees?" I rolled my eyes. "I don't think so."

Robert laughed. "Honey, you shouldn't be bad mouthing your coach who also cooked for you."

"But you didn't deny it." I said and he only shrugged back with the same an amused expression. "Anyway, I'll have to do my practice sessions," I added, not wanting to get Nick's problem in the mix. "And what's better than observing another driver on normal roads?"

It was something that Dad always told me when I asked him about driving - to observe him on his driving skills so that one day, when I would have my own car (I swear, he always said 'let God forbade'), I'll know everything that there was in driving.

Ironically, I was the same girl who went coaching to sit behind the wheel.

"It's all cool." Robert pipped in. "She's my responsibility. I'll take care of her."

I looked at him with wide eyes. Did Robert have any clue on what he was talking about? He sounded as if my Dad were marrying me off to him. "What he means is - " I started to get in good terms with Dad. I didn't want any fight when Rob had finally left.

"You better, young man." Dad replied back sternly.

"I was actually talking about the car." He said, running his hands over his hair, untangling few of his strands. When I glared at him, shooting daggers, he only winked at me and mouthed sorry.

Dad only laughed. Somehow those two guys had bonded over two dead fish and jokes on me. I kept my mouth shut to keep myself from getting embarrassed more.

"Okay, then." Dad said turning his wheels towards his room. "It was a fun night. You should come home often, Bert."

"I sure will." He said and smiled innocently at me. I folded my hands across my chest and looked away.

"I need to take my meds, good night, Bert." Dad said and wheeled himself into his room.

"Good night, Ed." Rob looked at me and leaned across the door. "'Sup babe."

"Get out." I said, managing to push him out through the door, as I limped towards him. He only laughed at that which made my anger further grow. "What do you think you were doing? Flirting with me in front of my Dad! Have you lost it!"

"Edward is a cool guy." Robert waved his hands in the air, as if it was not a big deal at all. Though Dad had see Dan flirt with me all the time, we knew where we stood with each other. But with Rob it was different. We didn't even know him well. "He's been in tracks long enough to point out a bad flirt."

Robert was right though. Dad knew what it was to flirt and he would have stopped him if he knew he was a threat. I sighed and closed my eyes.

"All okay, Scarlet?" Robert asked.

"With Nick. Am I doing the right thing?" I asked. I looked at him and he was smiling down at me. "By avoiding him and taking a ride with you."

"Scarlet," He leaned against the door frame. "No matter the time, he's not going to fall for you and you know it." I nodded my head, holding my gloominess at bay. "You should move on and learn to see him as a friend, without any romance involved with it."

I nodded my head again, not able to let my words out.

"Now, will you be okay to get up the stairs and to your room?" He asked. "I could carry you over my shoulder if you want."

I pushed him away with a smile. "Good night, Robert."

"Good night, babe."

I closed the door and leaned on it. I had already fallen once. In love with Nick. I didn't know how the second fall was going to help me recover from the first one. Starting from tomorrow, everything was going to change. But I had made up my mind.

I had to move on.

---

A/N: What do you think of Robert cooking for Scarlet and her dad? And the new setups of having a chauffeur. Do you think it's going to affect more lives than one?

P.S: My ankle's started to heal. Yay!