Page 21 of Cross the Line
‘Have one of these boys give you my contact info, and don’t be afraid to reach out.’ She turns back to Dev and ducks out from under his arm. ‘I need you back here in an hour to autograph driver cards and to do some filming. Now go terrorize someone else.’
She shoos us back, forcing us to clear a path as she saunters off. Am I a little intimidated by her? Absolutely. But I’m equally awed and excited to work with her.
‘And that was the woman of my dreams,’ Dev says wistfully as he watches her go. ‘I’m only slightly less scared of her than I am of my mother.’
Oakley snorts. ‘I’m sure Neha Aunty would love to hear that.’ He glances around, no doubt antsy to get out of here to see the cars. ‘Can we head to the garage now?’
Dev holds an arm out, motioning for Oakley to lead the way. ‘Be my guest.’
In a heartbeat, my brother is hustling through the throngs of people. Mark joins him, but a light touch on my arm has me hanging back. I peek over my shoulder in time to see Dev pull his hand away.
To distract myself from how much I wish he’d left it there, I take a gulp of my latte and end up scalding my mouth. God, I need to get agrip.
‘You good so far?’ he asks, searching my face. When I nod, he goes on. ‘Patsy’s terrifying, but she really will help you out. Lillie and Ransom are the team’s social media admins, and Konrad is our main photographer, so if you ever need content from the team to post, they’ll get it to you.’
I nod again as I dig in my bag and pull out a small notebook and my favourite pink pen. I could type this information into the notes on my phone, but I remember details better when I write them out by hand. Plus, I’m less likely to lose them in the technological mess that is my phone.
Latte tucked into the crook of my arm, I jot down the names and titles. When I’m done, I look back up at Dev. He’s smiling, but it’s not the usual wide grin. This one is smaller, more personal. It’s the same one he gave me last night. Like maybe he’s impressed by me. I have to force myself not to read into it.
‘You don’t have to work this weekend,’ he goes on. ‘Get the lay of the land first, then on your way home on Monday, you can stop by headquarters in Dallas. I’m technically your boss, but you’re also an employee of Argonaut, so you’ll need to get all the legal stuff taken care of there. I’ll make sure Chava gets the employment contract sent over tonight so you can review it.’
I’d forgotten Chava was still here until he salutes us in my periphery. ‘Give me your clothing sizes, too, so we can get you a few sets of this beautiful uniform.’
I can’t hold back the grimace that takes over my face, and both guys laugh in response. Glad they’re happy that I’ll soon have the misfortune of donning the Argonaut uniform right along with them.
‘The wardrobe’s not great, but the benefits are top tier,’ Chava says, nodding to my latte, which is admittedly one of the best I’ve ever had. ‘Just wait until lunch. Practically a Michelin-star spread at every meal.’
‘Maybeyouget to eat that,’ Dev grumbles. ‘Mark will kick my ass if I try to eat anything other than chicken breast and grilled vegetables.’
Chava rolls his eyes. ‘At least you got the chef to use your mom’s secret spice blend.’
That little taste of home must help, but I know it’s got to be a challenge for Dev to have his diet dictated to him. He has to be careful not to gain weight or lose muscle mass, because every saved kilogram in the car matters when it comes to performance. He may not be running down a field or throwing a ball, but he’s still an elite athlete.
The food issue was part of the reason Oakley left the world of racing. Part of the ‘normal’ experience he craved involved not having to monitor every calorie that went into his mouth. He was miserable, I know that now, but back then I was jealous that he even had the opportunity to chase his dream. Sometimes I think I still am.
I push the thought from my head, because I’m chasing my dream right now. A modified version of it, sure, but I’m standing in the motorhome of a Formula 1 team, talking about contracts and perks of the job. I’m taking the next steps to get my career off the ground. And I’m doing it alongside people I’ve known for nearly my whole life.
I have Dev to thank for that. I stare up at him, taking in the easy way he jokes with Chava.
He’s got one hand in the pocket of his shorts, his shoulders are relaxed, and confidence rolls off him in waves. My heart stutters at the sight, but I’m sure it’s just the caffeine hitting my veins.
‘This is really happening,’ I murmur, mostly to myself.
But Dev must overhear, because he turns back and watches me as Chava shifts away, tapping at his phone.
‘Yeah,’ Dev says quietly. ‘This is really happening.’
I’d like to think I know what’s going through his mind because the same thing is going through mine: we’re doing this. We’re going to help each other. We’re going to make the best of two shitty situations so we can come out of it on top of our respective games.
And we’re going to have to be so, so careful not to make another mistake.
CHAPTER 8
Dev
In a twist of fate, I don’t qualify tenth like I was hoping for. Or ninth. Or even eighth. Today, I’m seventh on the grid.
Maybe Willow is my good-luck charm, because I never imagined I’d make it this close to the front, especially in an Argonaut car. I’m certainly leagues clear of Nathaniel, who slotted himself into thirteenth. It’s not terrible, considering he and I are usually somewhere in the back of the midfield, but his father is surely steaming that I’m rows ahead today.
