Page 30 of Jump-Start
“You were unstoppable, Chiara, and you still are, even if it’s in a different field. Your strength is something to admire,” I blurt out because I don’t seem to be able to control myself around this woman.
“Do you admire it?” She brings her green eyes to my face, a challenge in them. She knows when I lie, I can’t hide that from her, but I sure as hell can’t be honest either. So, I decide to go in a completely different direction. Changing the topic.
“What do you feel like having for dinner?” Chiara shakes her head and sighs.
“Answers to the million questions I have would be nice,” she says and makes Benz sit before giving her a treat.
“Fire away, Starling,” I offer, and her eyes go wide in response.
“Really?” I don’t hesitate.
“Really.”
She looks off into the distance with a thoughtful look. Then, Chiara turns back to me with her lips pulled into a thin line.
“How much rent do I pay per month?” she asks first, and I almost growl. She cannot be serious.
“None. Next,” I reply, and she opens her mouth to argue, but it falls shut when she realises she doesn’t have enough money to pay for half of my rent. It’s one of the more luxurious apartments in London.
“Okay, how will working for you go?”
“You take care of Benz, I pay you,” I say, giving her one of the most smart-ass answers I’ve ever given anyone. When she frowns, I almost laugh. She’s in no mood to take my bullshit, but her frustration is adorable—no, not adorable. It’s amusing. Yeah, amusing, that’s better.
“How do we split the chores?” she asks instead of giving my asshole response any attention.
“However you want. Just keep your room clean and don’t leave your shit everywhere.” I don’t have to tell Chiara any of this. Out of Graham and her, she is the one who has been keeping everything neat and tidy in their apartment.
“Would it kill you to answer a question without being a complete ass?” she asks, and I finally smirk as I answer.
“Yes.”
We keep walking for a while, talking about everything related to the apartment and the job I’m assuming she’s taken now. Once we make our way back to the apartment, she takes off my sweater and hands it back to me. I spot a small hole on the shoulder of her shirt and hold back the curse bubbling up in my throat.
“Here,” I say and hold out my credit card for her. She stares at it with a grimace on her features. “Your clothes are garbage. I’m not taking you to the next race weekend with these clothes. You’re going to be associated with me, so you need better ones.”
I’m often known as a fashion icon because of my bold outfit choices during race weekends. I won’t have her walking beside me with Benz in ten-year-old clothes. I ignore my subconscious as it reminds me of my earlier thoughts about her lack of clothes and wanting to get her new ones. That’s not what this is about. This is solely about my reputation. Appearances are important in Formula One.
“My clothes are not garbage,stronzo,” she says, her accent so strong it knocks the breath from my chest for a second.
“Yes, they are. Now, take my card and tomorrow I expect you to get some new ones. This is important,” I reply, but she shakes her head. Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn.
“I don’t like shopping and I’m not spending more of your money.” Chiara really loves to make my life hell.
“Take this,” I say, closing the distance between us and placing the credit card against her sternum. “And spend a reasonable amount of money on clothes,” I add before letting the plastic drop down her shirt. It’s only fitting considering the last time I handed her money, she put it down her shirt too.
“I hate you,” she says, and I lean my face closer to hers, my lips almost brushing over hers.
“Good. The code is 7243.”
I get started on dinner, feeling smug but also really happy she’s here.
That she’s finally safe.
CHAPTERSIXTEEN
chiara
“You’re really going to get all of that?” Lulu asks, and I cock an eyebrow.
