Page 38 of Rush
‘Hell yeah. She’s a legend,’ he replied, bursting into an obnoxiously loud rendition of ‘Do You Believe?’, impersonating Cher’s voice and all.
‘I thought you’d have wanted to see Andrea Bocelli or someone, you know…’
‘Italian?’ he laughed. ‘He’s more up my mum’s street.Maybe even my grandma’s. I actually grew up on drum ’n’ bass, which a lot of people don’t know. My brother and I discovered it when we were about ten, and it honestly kind of shaped my teen years. I’ve been to my share of raves; Europe is really the best place for it. I’m lucky to live there.’
‘I can see you at a rave, now I think about it.’ She squinted at him, studying him.
He had that effortlessly cool thing going on, and it wasn’t just in the way he dressed. If she were to compare the Marco she knew now to the Marco who had first started out in racing, there was a huge difference. It was a transformation which had been documented in interviews and media footage. He’d found his feet, grown into himself. Even in the months that she’d known him, he’d changed. It explained how he’d gone from crying in fields over a girl who didn’t want him back to flirting with her and parading a hoard of women around.
‘You should come to one,’ he suggested.
‘No way.’ Savi shook her head. ‘Not my scene, at all.’
‘I vowed to forever hate country but look at me last night. I had a blast.’
‘Country music at least has words you can understand, not just a mash up of sounds. I could create that kind of music on my computer.’
‘But when that bass drops… there’s nothing like it.’
‘I’ll go to a rave when you enter a rodeo.’
‘Enough said, moving on,’ he laughed, stepping over Tom Cruise.
‘Are there any racing drivers with a star?’ Savi pondered. It was mostly movie and television stars and musicians thatwere honoured, but she knew a few drivers had dabbled in such industries.
‘Savannah. What planet are you on?’ Marco threw his head back and stared up the sky, exasperated. ‘Have you not heard of the iconic Steve McQueen?’
‘Oh, shit! I forgot about him!’ She slapped a hand over her mouth. ‘I think I need my contract to be dissolved immediately. I don’t deserve to be in this sport.’
‘I am genuinely appalled.’ He laughed and steered her further down the line of pink and gold stars, most of them needing a clean. ‘Look, here’s the King of Cool. Take my photo with him?’
‘Did you know his grandson was almost a vampire? And he was a firefighter.’ She tried to redeem herself, spouting out knowledge of Steve McQueen’s family tree like she was a walking Wiki page. ‘Fictional, obviously. Two of my favourite shows.’
‘Oh, good. Hopefully we can meet his grandson one day and I can tell him you’re an embarrassment to the industry.’ Marco crouched down for Savi to snap a photo of him on the ground. ‘Next you’ll be campaigning for McDreamy to have a star.’
‘Patrick Dempsey wasthedreamboat of the early two thousands, does loads of charity work and produces and directs. And he’s a damn good driver, too.’
‘Okay, now I think about it, I can’t even argue with you. He’s also a really great guy, he’s been in the Revolution garage a few times. Just stopped by to say ‘Hi’ and wish us luck. I have a signed model of one of his race cars on my bookshelf, if you want it.’
‘What?!’ she gasped. ‘Please! I hope he shows his face this season.’
‘Doubt it, he’s busy in his new championship with his new team.’
‘Oh.’ Savi jutted her bottom lip out, genuinely disappointed. She had grown up watching him on her TV screen every week, and when he’d begun racing, it was like two of her worlds had collided and she’d been in heaven.
‘Don’t worry, Cowgirl. We’ve still got plenty of eye candy in the paddock, myself included.’
‘You’re so egotistical, Monaco,’ Savi tutted disapprovingly.
‘Comes with the territory.’
‘I beg to differ. I’m very modest.’ She may have been a little big-headed when it came to her career, but when it came to her looks? That was a different story.
‘And you’re one of the most beautiful women to ever grace the pit lane. Seriously, Savannah. Modesty looks good on you, don’t lose that.’
She barely paid attention to his arm around her shoulders as they narrowly avoided being harassed by a rather dodgy-looking Mickey Mouse near the Chinese Theatre, instead wondering where that compliment came from. That wasn’t part of their deal. But then again, neither was this trip. Marco seemed to be doing a lot of things that he didn’t need to be doing, and for some reason, Savi was in no rush to put a stop to it. She liked having someone on her side, someone rooting for her. She’d had a lonely four years.
‘Before he gets to the table, I’d just like to say he looks like an idiot wearing that hat in here.’ Marco mocked Jesse’schoice in outfit as they watched him navigate a sea of overdressed A- and B-listers, most of them recognisable. Savi’s red cowboy boots were firmly tucked underneath the white tablecloth, but they had certainly earned her a few second glances when she’d walked in.
