Page 13 of Away We Go

He's yourbossnow, Cherry. Sure, he was once like family to you, but over the years that changed. You don’t even have his mobile number, for goodness’ sake. You’re more likely to hear from Sue than the man himself.

With this refrain looping around my head, I clear customs and arrive at the luggage carousel just as my purple American Tourist suitcase makes its way around the corner.

“Perfect,” I sigh with relief, hauling it off the conveyor belt and onto my trolley. “Let’s get out of here.”

Taking the rumpled piece of paper out of my cross-body bag, I grip it tightly in one hand and push the trolley in the other, reading the signs pointing to the exit and taxi rank, grateful they are also written in English.

“What the—?”

I stop, wincing as the trolley behind me crushes the back of my left leg.

“Sorry,” I mutter to the man glaring at me as he moves the offending trolley around me. I’m not sure what he’s so angry about. It’s my calf that’s been maligned.

“James?”

I hurry over to where Nicky’s security man is standing off to the side holding a placard with my name on it.

“Miss Brenner!” He beams a bright smile at me, and I grin. I’d met James at the last race weekend and had been suitably intimidated by his gigantic, tanklike body, his tattooed-covered arms and neck, and his perma-scowl. Turns out, he’s a teddy bear who loves to gossip and has a serious sweet tooth. He’s also responsible for Nicky’s safety, so he’s a hero among men in my eyes.

“What are you doing here?” I ask as he takes the handle of my trolley from my tight grip, walking with it towards the exit. I follow behind, wiping the exhaustion from my eyes.

“Nicky sent me,” he says over his shoulder, putting his sunglasses on as we leave the airport terminal, even though there is not an inch of sunlight to be seen.

“He did?” I scan Sue’s itinerary, now a damp mess in my sweaty hand, looking for any mention of James meeting me at the airport. I read it through twice, knowing that just like the ten other times I’d read it, there would be nothing about Nicky sending his bodyguard to fetch me.

James points to the black SUV waiting at the curb side and motions me in through the open door. I watch from my spot in the backseat as he puts my luggage into the trunk, walks my trolley to the trolley bay and returns to take his seat next to me, knowing for sure that not one of these things is in his job description.

“Thanks,” I say after he’s settled in beside me.

“It’s no problem.”

The driver checks to see we’re buckled in and then we’re off, heading into some of the worst traffic I’ve seen in my life.

“Wow,” I say under my breath as I take in the six-lane freeway filled with bumper-to-bumper traffic.

“Welcome to peak hour traffic in Shanghai,” James says, leaning his head back like he’s settling in for a long journey.Which, from the looks of the way we’re creeping along at a snail’s pace, seems about right.

I watch the sights through my window as we crawl along, not really taking any of it in. There’s a mix of emotions swirling through me at the idea of Nicky sending James to get me from the airport and they range from gratitude through to fear.

“If you’re here with me, who’s watching over Nicky?” I ask the one question that’s been plaguing me the most. Surely it’s more important that he stay with Nicky than to play chauffeur for me.

James smiles. “He’s safely tucked away in his suite at the hotel, which has its own security. He’ll be fine. I think he’s more anxious aboutyoursafety.”

This sounds just like Nicky. He’s the millionaire sports star with a legion of people wanting to get close to him, and he’s worried about me getting in a taxi from the airport to the hotel.

“I’ve never actually seen this side of him,” James continues, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “He was insistent I leave hours before your arrival, so I didn’t miss you.”

I’m horrified. “I’m so sorry, James. He’s just used to looking out for me, that’s all. I’ll talk to him, make sure he knows I can look after myself.”

He smirks. “Let me know how that goes.”

My annoyance at the situation rises.How useless does Nicky think I am, that he needs to send someone to fetch me? Like I can’t get from A to B without messing it up?

“It’s nice,” James says after leaving me to stew in silence for several minutes.

“What is?”

His eyes run over me, his lips tipping up at the edges at what he sees. I must look like a crumpled mess. Ten hours in economyclass will do that to a girl. “Seeing him care about someone, something, other than racing.”

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