Page 84 of Double Apex

She accepts the wine and takes a sip. “Over between you two, huh?”

“Yeah.” I pick up one of the toast points, then set it back down, sighing. “Still stings—I’m drunk enough to admit. But I have no claim on him, so don’t worry that I’m being territorial. Feel free to shoot your shot.”

Her face is compassionate, small full lips pushed into a sympathetic pout, dark brows together. She touches my knee again, and in my wine haze, I’m not sure she isn’t flirting.

“Tempting, but I don’t sleep with other drivers—that’d be crazy. If I hesitate a hundredth of a second because some jerkoff from a rival team has seen me naked, I might as well hang up my helmet.”

“Wise words, girlfriend. It’s why I got scraped off the pit wall.” I gulp the last few inches of wine and release a showy sigh as I set the glass down. “I’m not getting within one dick length of Ardelean again—I’d like my old job back.”

As if I’ve summoned Beetlejuice by saying his name, the man who essentially canned me and sent me home to North Carolina appears at the table.

“Miss Sikora,” Klaus greets my companion. “Lovely to see you. What a fetching ensemble.”

“Miz,” she corrects good-naturedly, giving him a once-over that seems to speak volumes. “And you’re looking pretty fly too, Franke. Nice suit… and everything in it.”

Holy balls, have they fucked?Is there anyone Klaus hasn’t sampled?

“Sage is making that shit-ass Li’l Rascals go-kart of Harrier’s look like a McLaren MP4/4,” I drawl pointedly.

His lips twitch in amusement. “Indeed.”

“If they have any sense, the team’ll jettison Valle and make Sage permanent, even after Valle’s femur heals from the snowboarding accident.” I squint one eye at Klaus. “Yooooouuu fucked up, buddy boy—you and Mo both. Coulda locked down this little lady like I recommended, but y’all passed like sexist twats.”

Definitely too much wine. I’m getting punchy, and just accidentally called my dead father a twat.Time to pack it in and go home, kids!

“You appear to have been satisfied with Cosmin’s performance nonetheless,” Klaus quips.

“Ooh, touché,” I whisper. “Ouch.”

I pour myself the last of the wine, holding the inverted bottle aloft until every drop trickles into the glass, then gulp it down two-handed like a toddler with a sippy cup. Sage and Klaus fall into light conversation, which I tune out.

I suck my lower lip and scan the room for a roving waiter—y’know, because I definitely need more booze—but don’t see one. Instead, I catch sight of Cosmin. He’s talking to some FIA douche who has a woman half his age clamped under one stout arm.

Standing near the trophy wife is a curvaceous blonde in a black-and-white gown. She’s riveted by Cosmin, twisting a lock of hair around one red-taloned finger, and it rolls over me like a dark cloud at a picnic that he’ll probably take that chesty penguin-looking floozy back to his hotel room and do all the things with her he used to do with me.

I hate her so much.

Would it cause a fatal stampede to the exits if she suddenly burst into flame?

Sage stands and extends a hand to shake goodbye with Klaus, and he gets all gallant and brushes his lips over her knuckles. I frown, which he completely misses. But Sage catches it. She looks worried, anddamn my stupid drunk ass, she probably thinks I’m annoyed because of some weird jealousy.

In reality, it’s because I loyally want him to be sadder about missing out on Natalia rather than cavalierly trying to pull Sage.

Really, Klaus? Sage wasn’t good enough to offer an Emerald seat, but a seat on your lap is another story?

I mercifully don’t say my boozy thoughts aloud for once.

She holds out a hand to me to shake. “I hope we’ll get a chance to talk more.”

“Oh God, really? That’s a relief. I’m not usually this much of a disaster, I swear. Please don’t remember me as a drunk, trash-talking idiot. It’s been a rough few months.”

She pulls me into a hug. Near my ear, she murmurs, “Don’t let the fuckers get you down, queen honeybee. Keep ruling.”

She smells amazing, and part of my brain wants to make babies all over her. This woman is a triple threat—gorgeous, talented, smart. My arms tighten for a moment.

“Thank you,” I breathe into her hair. “I needed that.”

She touches my cheek before walking away.

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