HALLIE
Ikick my feet up on the table in the staff room and bite into my chicken salad sandwich.
Only a few more hours left. Then I need to seriously get to grips with racing this McLaren on the set track Pete sent over. There are a ton of corners, and she handles nothing like my Shelby.
But I keep replaying yesterday with Conan in my head.
The way he talks about himself makes me kinda sad. There’s so much behind that tough exterior.
Maybe I should just ask him out. I want to learn more about him.
He makes me feel safe.
And when he looks at me, he actually sees me.
No one—not even my dad or Lily—has ever done that. Not even my mother. Who I haven’t heard from in years, by the way.
Occasionally an odd text, one on my birthday. She’s got her own new life in Ohio with Terry. Honestly, I’m fine without her. It’s always been just me and Dad.
Even when he died, I didn’t want to reach out.
Conan hasn’t texted to say the car’s ready, so I’m good for tomorrow night. Though I probably should double-check.
Because that McLaren could win me that twenty grand.
And deep down, I want to talk to him. He’s becoming part of my routine—the guessing game of how he’ll pop up.
A text? At work? My Pilates class?
I half expect him to knock on the door.
The door opens. I’m shocked to see Finn walk in with two cups of coffee. He never comes in here. He isn’t social. At all.
He’s either in his office or the OR.
He strides over and hands me a cup.
“Er, thank you.”
“Wasn’t me.” He looks around the empty room, relaxing.
“Let me guess—Conan?”
“Yeah,” he huffs.
“He’s at my workplace far too much, Hallie.”
“I can’t stop him.”
“Oh, I know. Once he sets his sights on something, you’re screwed.”
“We’re just friends, Dr. Quinn. He’ll get bored soon enough.”
Finn frowns and sips his coffee.
“Read the note on the cup. Don’t bet on that. Anyway, see you in OR in…” He checks his fancy watch. “Twenty-four minutes. Should only be an hour or so. Pacemaker. Then you can go home.”
I fight the urge to read the note while Finn’s here.