A frightening question crosses my thoughts a second later.
Am I falling out of love with racing?
CHAPTERTWO
chiara
I’m bored. God, I never get as bored as I do at work. Art is my happy place. I could stare at a da Vinci painting for hours, finding new things about it that fascinate me. At the same time, it takes everything out of me not to rip out my eyeballs when I have to watch the same immersive show of his art for my job. It’s garbage. It’s so horrible, I have no idea why it’s so highly praised. The quality is bad, and the music does not match da Vinci’s work at all. This is what my Nonna would call avergogna, a disgrace. As an art major, I can’t help but agree. If I didn’t need this job as much as I do, I wouldn’t work here.
Graham, my best friend, and I made a deal to get as many hours in as we can. We’re trying to save up to open our own immersive art gallery one day, where I get to create the shows. We’re still about 498,000 pounds away from our 500,000-pound goal. We came up with this plan last year, which is why I can’t help but doubt we will ever make it. Two thousand pounds a year is nothing. It’s not nearly enough. Yes, we could easily get the money by asking Graham’s brother—famous, smug, brooding, drop-dead gorgeous Formula One World Champion Leonard Tick—for the money, but neither one of us wants to use his wealth for our dream.
Graham and I grew up together. We met when we were four and have been inseparable since. I met him when I couldn’t stop wearing pigtails and his name was still Gracie. Now we’re twenty-four and don’t spend a single day apart. Leonard has been in almost every memory I’ve had with Graham since we met. They’re also inseparable, apart from Leonard traveling the world for his fancy-schmancy races.
Ugh.
I can’t stand him. We’re always at each other’s throats. Always. I can’t remember a day we didn’t bicker or fight with each other. The first day we met, he tore down the sandcastle I’d built in the sandbox, laughing wickedly as he did it too. I’d shoved him face-first into the remains after. Ever since then, we haven’t found a way to tolerate each other. There’s never been a reason for me to be nice to him, and he isn’t too kind to me either. Last Halloween, he came in a costume that—according to that smug asshole—required a live snake to be around his neck for the entire duration of the evening. I hate snakes. I’m terrified of them, which is exactly why he did it. In return, I posted an unflattering photo of him mid-sneeze to social media. It was evil considering how many people know him, but I didn’t care. He deserved it.
And, thinking of the devil, he walks right into the fucking room with his angel of a niece holding onto his hand. Little Ellie loves this immersive exhibition. She drags Leonard here every single weekend he’s home. Ellie is Jack’s daughter. Jackson Tick is Leonard’s and Graham’s older brother by ten years. He’s been with his partner forever, and they adopted a then three-year-old Elizabeth four years ago.
“Chiara!” Ellie calls out when she sees me in the corner of the room where I have to stand in case someone has a question about the exhibition. I know, what an exciting job I have.
“Ellie,” I reply and squat down to open my arms for the seven-year-old. Her face lights up because I’m the only one who calls her that. To everyone else, she’s Lizzie.
“Hurry up,” the little girl with strawberry blonde hair, pale skin, blue eyes, and freckles says as she tugs on Leonard’s hand.
Leonard Tick. My archnemesis. The man I’d very much like to kick in the shin one day for being so irritating and gorgeous at the same time. His eyes are a deep, warm brown, just like his skin. His lips are so full and the clean, short beard he keeps on his face complements his rugged features. He has a nose piercing, which fits him frustratingly well. Tattoos peak out on his neck from under his shirt, and I suck in a sharp breath when an image of him shirtless on the beach fills my head. I shake it away. Just because I can’t get along with the man doesn’t mean I can’t find him hot. Because he is. God, he’s so fucking handsome, I can’t stand to look at him for more than ten seconds without my body feeling things I do not approve of.
“Come on, Lenny,” Ellie says when Leonard takes his sweet time to walk to me.
He’s scowling, as usual, but it’s something I don’t mind about him. It’s one of the few things we have in common. It’s difficult for someone to get a smile out of me. Most of the time, I have what people call a resting-bitch-face, which is fine by me. I don’t need to seem like the type of person who wants to be approached. I don’t like most people, only the ones I’ve grown to love over years and years.
“Starling,” Leonard greets me as soon as Ellie’s arms are around my neck and mine hug her back.
“Champ,” I reply, and he frowns even harder. Good. He’s been calling me ‘Starling’ since a starling bird flew onto my head when I was six and scared the shit out of me. I’ve been calling him ‘Champ’ for about as long for no other reason than because it bothers him. It bothers him a lot.
“We came to see you,” Ellie says, and I raise my eyebrow at the little girl. She’s grinning so brightly, it tugs on the corners of my mouth. I let them curl up ever so slightly, sending surprise into Leonard’s eyes.
“Yeah? Not to see the show?” I ask, and Ellie stares at the ground, her cheeks turning bright pink.
“Okay, maybe that too,” she admits, and I give her chin a single pat with the backside of my fingers before standing upright and facing the English man I’ve grown to despise over the years. His eyes are on mine, thoughtful and expecting me to congratulate him at the same time. I know him too well not to realize what he wants to hear.
“Too bad about that incident in the third corner,” I say since I know the sport of Formula One inside out. The man in front of me glares at me. “I wish Jonathan had kept that place,” I add, causing his eyes to grow dark from irritation.
“I’m flattered you pay so much attention to my performance, Starling,” he replies with his thick English accent, both of us in a stare-down at this point.
“For amusement purposes only,” I spit back quietly with my Italian accent, so Ellie doesn’t hear. Leonard takes a step toward me, eyes filled with heat.
“I’m surprised you still work here. Must be your great customer service skills,” he says with so much sarcasm, I bite down on my bottom lip to keep from grinning because it was kind of funny. And very accurate.
“Good one,” I snort, and his eyes flash me his version of a smile. “Hope you didn’t burn through your last two brain cells to come up with it.” It wipes the smile out of his gaze immediately.
“Demon,” he whispers, and I offer him a wicked smile.
“Stronzo,” I reply, which makes him angry. His gaze drops to my lips before he trails it back to my eyes and lets out a humming sound. My body catches on fire in response, but I decide to ignore that reaction completely as I glare back at him.
“Lenny, come, the show is about to start,” Ellie says and pulls her uncle toward the bench in the middle of the room where they always sit. I screw my eyes shut and let out the breath I’ve been holding.
God, this man drives me crazy.
