Today is Qualifying. I’m just pulling on a pair of jeans and a new top I bought yesterday when someone knocks on my door. I adjust the top, realizing it’s way too tight around my chest for my anxiety to be okay with it.
The person behind my door knocks again, this time harder and a little more impatiently. I abandon my hope of changing and go to speak to whoever is bothering me this early in the morning.
“Mr. Fender, what can I do for you?” I ask with surprise.
We may not be best friends, but he holds a higher position at the company than I do, and I will show him respect.
He gives me a small smile.
“Listen, I’m very sorry about everything that went down between us. I hope you know it was never my intention to overwork you to the point where you fainted,” he says.
I honestly consider telling him about my anxiety, that a combination of it and my lack of sleep and dehydration made me faint, but I don’t want to make him feel better. He was a horrible boss to me, and now I don’t work for him anymore. I work directly for Mrs. Lu and Ms. Martin, and they’ve been nothing but kind to me.
“I appreciate your apology,” I say, shaking his hand when he holds it out for me.
“Great, now, come on, we have to go. I got us a car and Fallon and Liz are already waiting downstairs. You don’t want to be late for your day with Mr. Biancheri,” he reminds me, and I hesitate for a moment.
I really need to change, but he’s staring at me in a way that tells me it’s best not to make him wait any longer. Instead, I grab my purse and follow him downstairs while he watches me with a forced smile and his eyes speak volumes. He doesn’t like me and is probably just being nice to me because our bosses told him to be.
This man is really starting to piss me off.
At the track, I get my badge for the weekend from a security guard, who seems to be incapable of taking his eyes off my tits in my tight top. It’s disgustingly obvious, but he doesn’t seem to mind that fact at all.
“Do you stare at all the women's tits when they walk through here or am I the only one you’re trying to make uncomfortable?” I ask and lift my purse to cover my breasts. The shirt I’m wearing isrevealing, yes, I’m aware, but for god’s sake, dude, have some self-control.
“In a shirt like that, you’re asking to be stared at, lady,” he replies, laughing with one of his colleagues. Still waiting for my badge, I lift my phone to my ear, pretending to have dialed someone’s number. I may hate confrontation, but I despise disgusting men more. “The hell are you doing?” he asks, holding onto my badge.
“Me? Oh, I’m trying to get a hold of my father, Robert Fuchs, the team principal at Grenzenlos. If he doesn’t answer, I think I’m going to call my friend, Valentina Romana, or maybe her fiancé, Gabriel Biancheri. I could of course also call her brother, Adrian Romana. I don’t know if you know this, but he almost had someone very influential in this sport fired because they disrespected me. What do you think he’ll do to someone like you?” I ask, still holding my phone to my ear.
The security guard’s face has drained of all color.
He hands me my badge and mumbles an apology, his eyes trained on the floor now. I wish him a wonderful day before making my way toward the Velocità Rossa garage where Gabriel told me to meet him.
I find Adrian instead, leaning against a wall and listening to one of his team members talk. My heart stops for the briefest moment, then stumbles all over itself to restart. All because Adrian looks incredible in his red Velocità Rossa shirt and plain blue jeans. His blonde hair sits in perfect curls on his head, and his blue-green-brown eyes shine in the sun. I studied their color enough times to have memorized every aspect of them, like the tiny freckle he has in the corner of his left iris. How the colors seem to change depending on what color shirt he’s wearing. How they’re more enchanting every single time I look at them.
When they drift to me, he stands up straight and a smile covers his lips. We’ve spent so much time together these past few days, but he still looks at me like he hasn’t seen me in weeks and couldn’t be happier that I’m here, making my way toward him. His attention briefly moves to the man he is talking to while he seems to apologize for walking away.
As soon as I’m close enough, he says, “Come with me.” I follow him into the building behind him, and the next thing I know, he’s turning around and hugging me to his chest. I fling my arms around his neck, giggling a little.
“Hi,” I say eventually, making him squeeze me even tighter.
“Bonjour,déesse,” he replies and steps back to plant two kisses on my cheeks.
My face burns long after his lips are gone. His hands hold onto my hips for a moment longer before he steps back and lets out a low whistle.
“That top on you should be illegal,” he tells me with a slight laugh. I wipe my hands down the front of it and frown at him.
“It should be, especially because I haven’t been able to breathe properly since I put it on,” I admit, causing all of the amusement to leave his beautiful face. “My ex-boss hurried me out of my hotel before I had a chance to change,” I explain, but Adrian’s eyes and lips reveal how upset he is to hear that.
“Let me get you a different shirt. I should have another like the one I’m wearing in my bag.” He tries to walk away, but I grab his hand to stop him.
“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine,” I assure him, but he doesn’t look convinced. “I can’t be seen walking around in your shirt, Adrian.” It’s his turn to frown.
“You look beautiful, but I need you to promise me that you’ll come to me to get a new shirt if it gets too uncomfortable. I’ll get you a plain one without any teams on it,” he says, using one of his hands to tuck my hair behind my shoulder and then ear. Seeming to realize what he’s doing, he quickly retracts his hand.
“I promise,” I reply.
“I have to go,Nevaeh, but come to me if you need anything.”
