Page 48 of Double Apex

In my periphery I see Valle ride off, going for the moral high ground, or maybe mentally having acknowledged that Cos is eight inches taller and could paste him.

I yank my arm away, and my eyes go back and forth between Lars and Cosmin. “I was trying to prevent a scene,” I snap.

“And now you are creating one,” Cosmin replies smoothly.

“Excuse me?”

“Rein in the temper,” Lars states, his eyes flicking past me to where a group from Team Coraggio are drawing near. “Hide your feelings and let’s get back to work.”

I’m already seething when the barb Cosmin throws out next becomes the last straw.

“Miss Morgan is well practiced in hiding her feelings—she can be bloodless.” His eyes shift from Lars to me when he adds, “But she is selective in applying this skill.”

A chilly smile flits over his features before he continues his saunter down the track.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

Bloodless?Is this selfish shitbag pouting, calling me cold or emotionless or something because I didn’t put out last night? He can’t seriously be offended that I joked about him being a product, can he?

With everything I’m going through, I’m appalled he’d be so self-absorbed. And borderline name-calling me in front of another team member? What a prick!

I hate him a million times more than I did months ago.

The Coraggio people have caught up, passing us with a critical side-eye. I know open bickering between members of any team becomes potent fuel for paddock gossip. But in my head, a haze of fury obscures every thought other than how I’m going to make it hurt the most when I tell Cosmin this shit isso over.

Ardelean is ruining my day. In the background during everything I do—the meeting, running analytics, the press conference—it beats in my head like distant drums:How. Fucking. Dare. He.

I’m dealing with so much already with the Mo situation, and Cosmin knows it. His piling on is the emotional equivalent of throwing someone a bowling ball when they’re drowning. Over the course of the day, my nice, solid, satisfying anger disintegrates into bewildered hurt.

Klaus is walking into the paddock’s dining room as I’m walking out with my food, and when he drapes an arm over my shoulders, I’m almost shocked—it’s the first time he’s been affectionate with me in weeks.

“How are you holding up, Schatzi?”

I swallow a bite of sesame noodles. “Hey, stranger. Thought I’d lost you.”

He rumbles out a chuckle and follows me to an outside table where I sit and stab at my meal, sending him a nervous glance.

“I’ve always been here,” he assures me, reclining into a chair.

“Have you?” I take a bite. “It’s not like I need a nightly tuckin and bedtime story,” I mumble around the food, “but you’ve been so, um,businesslike.”

He sweeps a glance around us to see who’s sitting nearby before lowering his voice and saying, “The situation with Edward is very difficult for me. I’m not handling it well, and perhaps it has made me distant.”

He and Mo are best work-friends, and he’s also the only person who calls my father Edward. Mo calls Klaus “Klausy,” and occasionally “K-Dog,” which is such boomer hilarity that I can’t even.

“Understandable,” I say nonchalantly.

I’m tempted to add,It also has plenty to do with my apparent-ex-best-friend Natalia, but this isn’t the place to get into that topic,orMo’s cancer, which still isn’t public knowledge. For that matter, I need a sense of where Klaus’s head is on a possible Emerald acquisition.

“Wanna get dinner tonight?” I offer. “We should probably chat.”

“I have a prior commitment.” His dark eyes skate away.

I can’t resist baiting him. “Ooh, is that a blush, Herr Franke? You generally have no problem owning the parade of F1 fangirls rolling through your bed like chocolates on anI Love Lucyassembly line, so I can’t imagine why you look sheepish. Something you wanna tell me?”

One dark eyebrow lifts, and it’s all we need: he knows I know, and in the space of just a few heartbeats, our connection links up again, crackling to life like an open comm channel.

“Dinner tomorrow instead?” he suggests with a smile.

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