25

“You look great, baby girl. You haven’t worn your hair like this in years.” Her mother reached across the back of their cab to tuck a curl behind her ear.

“Mom.” Mira brushed her hand away. Soon she was going to lick her thumb and wipe a smudge off her face.

“I’m just saying. It’s so pretty on you.”

“It was too much work to straighten it every day.” And the way Will’s eyes lingered on it whenever he was near her didn’t hurt either.

“And this dress. New, right?”

Mira squirmed under her mother’s scrutiny. Of course she’d notice every little change. The dress was new, and not her usual style. She’d seen it in the window of a fancy shop in Barcelona and it stopped her in her tracks. It was so soft and sexy, so … everything she wasn’t. The slippery silk, the tiny straps, all the bare skin … it made her feel confident in a way she hadn’t in years. Not confident about spreadsheets and customs paperwork. Confident as in … hot. She hadn’t felt hot in so long. She hadn’t wanted to feel hot. Before she knew it, she’d bought the dress.

“I like Violet,” her mother said.

“She’s great. I’m so glad she’s out on the circuit with us. It’s nice to have a friend here.”

“And—was it Will?—he seems nice, too.”

“He is.”

“And hot.”

Mira made a face. “Mom …”

Cherie held up her hands. “Just making an observation. Besides, he’s only got eyes for you and that dress. He couldn’t stop staring.”

Her heart gave an unwelcome lurch, and her cheeks warmed. “You’re deluded, Mom.”

Thankfully, Cherie was already flitting off to the next subject, as usual. “How’s the job going?”

“Good. I had no idea how hard it would be. But I think I’m finally getting the hang of it.”

“And your dad? How has it been working with him?”

She could have tossed off a breezy “fine,” but her mother would see right through that. She knew how thorny the past seven years had been for them. At least she finally felt like she’d gotten that Singapore disaster behind her. Whenever he needed her, she was right there, ready with every answer, and it felt like they were regaining their equilibrium. “It’s getting better. I know he didn’t want me back—”

“You don’t know that—”

“I’m right though. I think it was Natalia who finally went to bat for me.” The subtle shift of her mother’s eyes away from her own made her suspect maybe she had both Natalia and her mother to thank for the intercession. “But that’s okay. I’m determined to prove to him that he can count on me, and I think he’s starting to.”

Cherie laid a hand on her knee and squeezed. “You know your dad loves you, right, baby? Job or no job.”

She swallowed back an uncomfortable tightness in her throat. “That’s not enough. I want him to respect me, too.”

“I’m sure he does.”

“If he doesn’t, then he will. Look, we’re here.”

EVEN AT 9 P.M. the Texas air was muggy and hot as they waited outside the restaurant. Will tugged at the collar of his dress shirt, while at his side, Violet fanned herself with her hand.

“I found this place the last time we came through Austin,” Natalia said. “The food is delightful, and it’s a bit more off the beaten path.”

“Natalia knows every good restaurant in every city on the racing circuit,” Paul said, smiling at her. “And she can get a table with a single phone call. I don’t know how she does it.”

“I just hope it’s got air con,” Violet groaned.

Just then a car pulled into the circular drive behind them, and Mira got out with her mother. Every time he looked at Mira in that dress, his mind went to truly filthy places where it was best not to linger, especially as he was about to sit down to dinner with both her parents.

“Cherie! You look lovely.” Natalia and Cherie embraced and kissed cheeks. “How’s the business going?”

There was clearly no bad blood between them, which was not surprising for Natalia. She was a class act, and Mira’s mom seemed the same.

Mira tugged on Violet’s sleeve. “Come on. Mom will talk about work all night if you let her, and it’s hot. Let’s wait inside.”

“Please. I’m desperate.”

Will followed them in, but almost plowed into Violet, who’d run into Mira when she stopped short just inside.

“Mira,” Violet groused. “What the fuck?”

But Mira was still frozen in place, staring at the dining room in front of her. Will scanned the room to see what had taken her so by surprise, and when he spotted that asshole Brody, he cursed out loud.

“Goddammit, what is that fucker doing here?”

Brody was sitting at a table twenty feet away, telling a story to his rapt audience, that irritating Aussie accent of his carrying through the room. He had an arm around some pretty young thing staring up at him with an adoring expression.

“Fuck,” Violet muttered. “Hey, Mira—”

“What the hell is that bastard doing here?” Cherie snapped behind him, and Will looked back at her in confusion. Yeah, Brody was a wanker, but why would Cherie Delain hate him, too? Why did it suddenly seem like there was a lot more going on here than the stunt Brody had pulled in Japan?

Mira spun around to face them and the look on her face stopped him cold. She was ghostly pale, and her green eyes were wide with terror.

“Mom, please … let’s just go.”

“Has he been on the circuit the whole time?” Cherie demanded, looking from Mira to Paul.

“There’s no avoiding him, Cherie,” Paul said through clenched teeth. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“Mira, honey, you can’t stay out here with that creep hanging around.”

And just like that, the penny dropped. Will’s eyes shot to Brody, still carrying on at his table, oblivious to the drama by the door. It was him . It was Brody. The guy from Mira’s past. The love story that wasn’t a love story. But …

“Mom, I can handle this. I’ve been handling it. I’m fine.” Mira’s voice was high and tight, and right now she looked anything but fine.

He mentally scrambled to piece it together. Brody McKnight and Mira ? But it had been years since she was on the circuit. She’d just been a kid. And Brody was … absolutely not a kid.

“How dare that bastard sit there so smug?” Cherie snapped. “Maybe I’ll just go have a chat with him.”

“No! Mom, don’t. Leave it alone.” Mira snagged Cherie’s arm, holding her back, and at the moment, it looked like Cherie Delain needed restraining, because the look on her face was murderous.

“Cherie,” Paul interjected. “He’s a driver for a competing team. We’ve already had one run-in with him this season. If we have another, it could put the team in jeopardy. You know what that could cost us.”

Paul’s eyes shot to Mira, and if Will had any doubt left, Paul’s expression would have confirmed it. He looked like he was just as ready to murder Brody as Cherie was. And as the truth settled in, Will was ready to do some unaliving, too. How dare he? How fucking dare he?

“Well, I don’t work for this team,” Cherie said, and before Mira or Paul could stop her, she sailed through the restaurant toward Brody.

Paul exhaled loudly. Mira groaned and turned away.

“Excuse me,” Cherie said, towering over Brody’s table like a vengeful blond Valkyrie. “Mr. McKnight, I just want you to know, one day karma will come for you, and when it does, I’m going to be celebrating.” The whole table stared at her in confusion. Brody opened his mouth to reply, but Cherie bulldozed over him. “Enjoy your dinner.”

Then she was marching back through the restaurant, and Will was surprised there was anything left of Brody. That look could burn a man to ashes.

“I’ve lost my appetite,” Cherie muttered on her way back out of the entrance.

Mira watched her mother leave, then glanced over at Paul. Natalia was whispering urgently to him, probably trying to keep him from creating an even bigger scene. Then Mira’s eyes flickered to Will’s and his heart sank. She looked so miserable. Scared and sad and ashamed and … Jesus. He needed to get away, too, or he’d be the one ripping Brody apart with his bare hands.

“Excuse us,” Paul muttered before he left.

Natalia threw a small, tight smile at Mira before hurrying after him.

“I better go make sure Mom is okay,” Mira murmured. “I’m so sorry, everyone.”

“Mira …” Will reached for her, but she was already out the door. He watched her go, feeling like his chest was in a vise. Next to him, Violet cleared her throat. “Guess I’ll call us an Uber.”