Page 13 of Kiss & Collide
“Look, I’m super glad that all your dreams have come true. Just don’t go looking for miracles.”
“You really don’t think we can turn it around?”
She half pivoted on her stool to look at him. “Did you see what I saw on that tour today? Oscar Davies hasn’t had an original idea in two decades and is probably a nightmare to work for, because Rabia and Leon seem to be running a shadow government in that place. The new team principal is a clueless knob, and his assistant is too busy bursting into tears to keep control of him. The dysfunction in that factory would keep them from staging a successful fire drill, never mind a successful Formula One season. So, no, I do not think we can turn it around. My plan is to stay here just long enough to make it count on my CV and then get the hell out.”
She turned away and took a long swig of her drink. He considered her for a moment, wondering when this young, gorgeous girl had gotten so angry and jaded. Her face was surprisingly delicate for such a spiky thing, with big eyes that were so dark blue they were almost the color of her namesake flower. She probably thought her dramatic dark eye makeup made her look tougher, but to him, she just looked mysterious and sexy. Her full lips were still stained with the remnants of the blood-red lipstick she favored. It occurred to him suddenly that he hadn’t kissed her that night in Monaco. Well, not on her mouth, anyway.
“Yeah, I saw all that. But here’s what I know, Violet.” When he said her name, she turned her head to look at him again. “Not one of those people got into this sport because it was just some job to pay the bills. Every one of them got into racing because theyloveit. They love the cars and the tracks and the technology and the strategy and thespeed. They loved all of that enough to try for it, even though everybody tries and almost no one makes it.” He folded his arms on the bar in front ofhim. “And, yeah, we’re last on the grid. But we’reonit. I’m going to do my damnedest to turn this around. And I guarantee you, every other person here will fight to turn it around, too. Because we’re all here for the same reason. Because we all fuckingloveracing.”
Violet blinked, then turned away and tossed back some of her vodka. “Are you always like this?”
“Like what?”
She waved her hand in his general direction. “The can-do spirit, the plucky optimism.”
He chuckled and took a swig of his beer. “I guess I don’t like conceding defeat before I’ve even started. I’d rather pitch in with the team and try.”
She let out a soft huff of laughter. “See? Can-do spirit.”
Bringing up Monaco was probably the last thing he should do at the moment, but he couldn’t resist teasing her about it a little bit.
Nudging her elbow with his, he murmured, “My can-do spirit worked pretty well for you in Monaco.”
She kept her eyes fixed forward, but her lips parted slightly and she let out a breath.
“All things considered, I think we’d better forget Monaco ever happened.”
He paused for a beat, then leaned closer. “You sure? I’m pretty sure we could improve your mood. No strings attached.”
He knew that’s what Violet preferred. And yes, what he preferred, too.
She turned her head to glance at him. Their eyes locked and his teasing smile faded. Attraction crackled between them, as clear as a lightning bolt in the night sky. Forget teasing. He was almost painfully invested in this, desperate to have a chance totouch her again, to kiss her finally. He could almost feel her lips against his, almost taste her tongue with his.
One corner of her lips curled up in a slight smile, then she threw back the rest of her drink in one go. For a split second, he thought she was game, and adrenaline flooded his body.Yes. God, yes.
But then she hopped off her barstool and clapped him on the shoulder. “Trust me, Chase, the last thing I’d ever expect of you is strings. But the answer is no. Have fun celebrating. I’m going home.”
He watched her stride across the pub, that long sweep of black hair swaying from side to side, matching the movement of her hips. It took several long minutes for his body to unwind. Okay, he was bummed she’d turned him down. Bummed didn’t begin to cover it. Right now, he’d crawl on his knees over broken glass to get her back into his bed. But she’d said no, and that was that. He took a sip of his beer and turned to join Leon and the rest of the crew.
5
The news of Pinnacle’s sale and the new leadership had spread through the sport like wildfire. Everybody was desperate to get a glimpse of Pinnacle’s inexperienced new head, Reece Hammond, so they could start ripping him to shreds.
So Violet had designed the Pinnacle press launch to prevent that from happening. There would be no access to Reece. Instead, she had invited a small group ofverycarefully chosen sports reporters to come to the factory to interview the drivers and Oscar Davies. Oscar was a pro with the press, much as she loathed him, and he’d been with Pinnacle his entire career, signaling stability. And to distract from the admin shake-up, she planned to feature their veteran driver Dieter Gruber, who had purportedly had extensive media training, whereas Chase had not.
Unfortunately, Dieter’s training was nowhere to be found. Unenthusiastic didn’t begin to encompass just what a black hole of charisma he was. She’d never seen anyone who could remain so steadfastly expressionless for so long. One-word answers, a dead-eyed stare that bordered on creepy, and not one hint of a smile in fifteen minutes.
Kathryn, one of the journalists, asked him her next question. “So, Dieter, are there any new challenges you foresee in the second half of the season?”
Dieter blinked slowly. “No.”
Kathryn waited for him to expound on that, but apparently that was all Dieter had to say on the subject. Good lord,whohad done his media training?
Violet turned to Maisie, her head of social media, who still hadn’t managed to speak more than a handful of sentences out loud. Violet had checked out her work on the socials and she seemed to know what she was doing. Great graphics, punchy captions, posts that encouraged sharing and engagement.
“Whatever you do, don’t put him on TikTok. He’ll be deadly.”
Maisie looked up from her phone, blinking her wide brown eyes rapidly from under her long, dark brown fringe, and nodded.
