Page 29 of Away We Go

Starting with Kyoto.

“You should go to Kyoto,” he says, reading my mind.

“That’s the plan,” I tell him with a cheerful smile.

He stops at the door to the driver's head office and nods. “I’ll see you tonight.”

He disappears behind his closed door and I gape after him. Nicky is coming out with us tonight? He’s never done this before.

Huh. I wonder what made him change his mind?

• • • • •

“It’s you,” Serena says from her spot perched at the edge of my bed. “That outfit is so you.”

I twirl in front of the full-length mirror, glimpsing my butt in these pants and liking what I see. When I was with Troy, he hated when I wore anything too short or too tight. While he wanted meto look good—fashionable, enviable—he never wanted me to wear anything he deemed ‘inappropriate.’ It got to a point where getting dressed in the morning was the most stressful part of my day. So, looking at my reflection now, I know he’d hate absolutely everything about these faux-leather black pants, paired with a black halter top that makes my bee-sting boobs look like something. And that’s more than enough reason to bite the bullet and leave my hotel room looking like this.

This is me taking some of my power back and I don’t hate it.

“Thanks. And you look gorgeous, too.”

Serena looks more than gorgeous in her tight red mini skirt and sparkly black long-sleeve top. With her luminous skin, high cheekbones and bouncy curls, she looks more like a supermodel.

“I do think we’re a bit overdressed for just dinner, though.” I scoop my phone and purse into my cross-body bag and sling it around my neck.

“One can never be too dressed up around this crowd. We’re moving with the glamourous A-listers tonight.”

Serena had been ecstatic when I told her that Nicky was coming out with us tonight. She said that meant a lot of the other drivers may join, expanding the pool of eye candy for us to peruse by an exponential amount.

I press a hand to my stomach, taking another look at my reflection in the mirror. “Are you sure this is okay?”

Bubbles of self-doubt try to work their way up to the surface, and I rush to pop them all. I know I look good—great even—in this outfit, but my time with Troy definitely poked holes in my once-solid self-confidence. Though it does feel good to know these doubts are fading into the background the further into the F1 season we go.

“You look amazing. All the men will clamour to talk to you. Nicky is going to hate it.”

I glare at her cheeky grin. I know she says stuff like this to get a rise out of me, yet I fall for it almost every time.

“Come on, let’s go.” I link my arm through hers, all thoughts about my appearance now gone as bubbles of excitement at spending the evening in Nicky’s orbit take their place. “The restaurant is just down the road; we can walk there.”

Seven minutes and many complaints about sore feet from Serena later, we arrive. From the looks of it, the place has been reserved just for the teams and their crew members and walking in, I feel amazed again that I’m even here.

“This is so cool,” I whisper as we pass Team Ferrari and Team Mercedes. The drivers from both teams are at the table and they nod at us as we walk by.

“I know,” she whispers back, clutching my arm to hers. “I’ve never been to a celebration like this before.”

The restaurant is heaving with people and we have to dodge our way around elbows and shoulders until we find our people.

Patrick jumps up as we approach. “Here, sit here.” He motions to the seats next to him and we do as he says.

“Thanks.” I look around the long table, smiling at Nicky, who nods back at me from his spot at the head of the table.

It’s like he’s holding court from up there. Like a king.

“This is nice, isn’t it?” Patrick beams at me and I turn to give him my full attention.

“Yes, it’s so amazing. And congrats on your podium today.” He finished third in the race, his first podium position ever, and I can feel the excited energy pouring off him in waves.

“Maybe some of Nicky’s good luck has rubbed off on me as well?” He winks and I smile, unsure of what he’s actually saying.

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