Page 42 of Rush
His mum could cook, but as the family hotel business grew and grandkids came into the picture, she had hired someone to take care of things. Most days, the house was empty, so their personal chef had shifts at their Monaco hotel, too, and helped curate the menu.
‘How on earth did you eat those so fast?’ Savannah watched him, her expression a combination of awe and disgust. ‘That’s not human, Mars.’
‘I was hungry,’ he shrugged, getting up from his seat and putting both plates in the dishwasher. He had never been one to leave things lying around for the housekeepers.
‘There’s hungry and then there’s whatever that was. You’re like a vacuum.’
‘I like pancakes. Those you guys ordered for me from room service in Spa were right up there with some of the best I’ve had.’ He used to hate mentioning that debacle, but now he could laugh at his misfortune. Yes, he’d embarrassed himself. But he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Well, aside from falling for someone he couldn’t have. He was right in the middle of making that mistake now, stood in his kitchen. But he wasn’t going to cry about it in front of anyone or declare his feelings in a garage full of people.
‘This surprise better be good.’ Savannah followed him up the staircase, constantly stopping to admire photos on the gallery wall. It was pretty much all Marco and his brother in black and white candid shots, from their teen years to now. ‘Your brother looks like you.’
‘Don’t tell him that. He got papped once, back in the early days of my career, by someone who thought he was me. He’s rejected every comparison since. But yeah, you can’t tell us apart in some photos.’ Marco pointed out one where they had matching football shirts.
‘I’m adopted, so my brother looks nothing like me.’ Savannah smiled fondly at the mention of her brother, a common theme. She obviously thought a lot of him.
‘You’re adopted?’ He didn’t know why that shocked him so much.
‘Yeah. My parents were friends with my biological mum who died during childbirth. She had made arrangements so if anything were to ever happen to her, my parents would take me in and raise me like their own.’
‘Savannah, I’m so sorry…’ He didn’t know if he should put his hand on her shoulder, hold her hand, or give her a hug, so he just stood looking at her, hoping he was doing a good job at hiding his adoration for her.
‘It’s fine. I don’t know any different. I have an amazing family, I’m very lucky that they were there when I needed them. When my mum needed them.’ She didn’t look sad about it, she looked at peace. He wondered if her adoption was one of the reasons she fought so hard for her career, so she could give back to the people who had given her everything.
‘The surprise is just at the top of the stairs here.’ He pushed open the door to his safe haven: a room dedicated to his racing simulator.
Jasper had got him a new one at the start of the year with all the upgrades and extras he could ask for, and Marco had painted the room black and added neon lighting and huge wrap-around screens. When he sat down in the racing sim seat, it was like he was in the Revolution car. He even had temperature control in there so he could practise for the warmer races. The closet held his team merchandise and old racing suits, and one wall was lined with trophies and helmets. It was heaven for any driver, his own personal shrine.
‘Wow, Monaco. This is next level.’
‘Have you got your own racing sim set up yet?’ he asked. Every driver was given one by the team when they signed their contract. Some of them even had two like Julien, who lived in two different countries. It helped keep their heads in the game during longer breaks.
‘No, not yet. The ranch is a little chaotic, lots of stuff. I need to go home and clear it all out, fix the things that nobody else has time for. The stables are the next step, we’re supposed to be getting new horses but there’s no space for them.’ She chewed on her bottom lip. ‘Jesse was supposed to come home with me and help, but I guess I’ll be doing it on my own.’
‘Well, if you need a hand just give me a shout,’ he offered, genuinely meaning it. Partly because he didn’t want to leave her alone until he was sure she was truly okay, but also because he wanted to see what the Midwest was really like.
‘Wyoming is a long way to go to help clean up someone else’s mess.’
‘Teammates, remember? Just consider it, I don’t mind if you decide at the last possible second. I’ve got no plans after the race.’
‘Thank you,’ she whispered, coming across as very shy suddenly. ‘So, which is your favourite helmet? I like this one.’ She pointed to a pink and purple one with metallic paint.
‘That’s my favourite. It was one of my first IEC helmets, designed by one of my childhood best friends. She’s done a few more for me since, but there’s something special about this one.’
‘It’s beautiful,’ Savannah agreed. ‘Can I have a go on the sim?’
‘Why do you think I brought you up here? It wasn’t to show off,’ Marco laughed. ‘Take a seat, I’ll adjust everything for you.’
He admired the light in Savannah’s eyes as she lowered herself into the seat, pressing the button on the steering wheel and bringing the system to life. When Marco wasn’t away, he was usually hiding out in here or at his small but equally luxurious apartment. He hated being at the hotel, where all the staff knew who he was. He woke up, went for a run, had breakfast and came home and raced until his next meal. Aside from last time he was home when he was on the yacht and clubbing with all those women… He was going to have to come out of hermit mode this week and show Savannah how people truly lived in Monaco. Show her the lifestyle of the rich and famous, since her waste of space of an ex had never shown her himself.
‘This feels like the real thing!’ she yelled above the noise of the engine. He’d forgotten to reduce the volume on the surround-sound speaker system, and his ears were paying for it.
‘Because it’s tens of thousands of euros worth of equipment, designed specifically for racing drivers!’ he yelled back. ‘Something tells me we’re gonna be getting a flight back to Wyoming after Sao Paolo and getting your own sorted.’
‘I think so!’ she grinned.
He let her play around on it for the next half-hour, before deciding he should probably show her the room she’d be staying in. Their guest rooms were all immaculately set up, each of them decorated with all-white furniture and neutral beige accents. The whole house was the polar opposite to the De Luca family hotels, which featured bold colours, patterned wallpapers and luxurious velvet textures. The only colourful thing in this house was the neon lighting in the shrine to Marco’s racing career.
‘They sort of all look the same, but I thought you’d like this one.’ He led her to one with a view of the ocean, his personal favourite and the room directly next to his. It was a big house, and he didn’t like the idea of her being on the other side of it at night.
