Page 91 of Hot Lap
Luca strolls alongside them. "So, Maiken, we talked a lot about Reece's life on the track, but what about your work?"
She smiles, and there's a stupid, dangerous kick in Reece's chest in response.
"I design most of my own costumes. Props, choreography, too. Burlesque is a lot more hands-on than people realize." Maiken's proud of what she does. And she should be.
Reece squeezes her hand. "She makes it sound easy. It's not."
Maiken gazes up at him, and yeah, he's in trouble.
Luca breaks the spell. "Props, costumes, choreography... sounds a lot like racing an F1 car, except the price tag."
Reece laughs. "I think she’s got the advantage in the overhead costs department."
They reach the open bay of the Nitro garage. Maiken stops and stares at the controlled chaos. Mechanics talk and work in sync, engineers debate over telemetry screens, tires and tool carts move in seamless rhythm.
In the center of it all sits his dark green and pink car.
It still gets him sometimes, that hit of adrenaline and pride when he sees it. Today, though, his gaze is on his wife.
She steps closer, awe and maybe a little intimidation flashing across her face. This is the first time she's been in the garage and seen his car up close.
What's wild is how the mechanics pause and step back, giving her a moment to experience this. Their pride and respect hit Reece like a punch in the gut, and he's more grateful than they'll ever know.
The photographer clicks away as Maiken brushes her fingers lightly acrossR. Pritchardon the Halo. Reece stands close, gaze on her.
What he'd give to know what she's thinking right now.
"Okay, Maiken." Luca lowers his recorder. "One last question for purely selfish curiosity."
Reece lifts an eyebrow.
The reporter nods toward the car. "Since you said you knew absolutely nothing about F1 before you met Reece, if you had to guess, how much do you think that machine costs?"
Reece chuckles. "It's a pretty pricy prop."
She walks around the car, sliding her fingers over the chassis, tilts her head and considers it. "Okay, yes, I admit your prop is fancier than mine are. But, c'mon, how expensive can this be?"
Reece laughs. Does she not realize how adorably sexy she is? "Guess."
"Guess?"
"Yeah. Guess how much this car costs."
This is something they haven't discussed. His money. She knows he's well-paid, but she's never asked about his worth or his salary. Mai's conclusion that they're both, essentially, entertainers isn't totally wrong. He can admit that, but there are some fundamental differences beyond "I get naked and you risk your life." Still, him being an entertainer, he's never thought of it quite like that and it changes things.
Mai steps back and eyes the car. "Hmm, more than like a Mercedes or Porsche, so what? Four hundred thousand?"
He laughs again and shakes his head. The mechanics are chuckling too, but not in a mean way, and Maiken clearly isn't bothered by being part of this game. She isn't stupid, but she's blissfully ignorant in some ways. And he loves that about her. She doesn't know his world and she's totally okay with that.
"More, huh?" She bites her lower lip as she studies the car, and it's just about the sexiest thing he's ever seen.
"Yeah, honeybee, more."
"Okay." Her eyes narrow as she looks from him to the car and back. "Okay, then, a million dollars." She makes a little face that says she thinks she's deliberately overshot it.
Reece shakes his head and plays along. "Wow, no. Not even."
She actually looks relieved. "Yeah, that'd be crazy. So how much?"
