2

When Will stormed into the garage bay, it was clear he was interrupting something. For one, Harry was hugging some woman, which was weird all on its own. Harry was not a hugger. Violet from PR was hovering just behind them, smiling. Also weird. Nothing made Violet smile, except maybe pulling the wings off flies. Well, whatever he’d walked in on could wait. He was there to drive and if he couldn’t do that, they were all fucked.

“Excuse me, but could you please try caring about your fucking jobs for a moment?” Will snapped. With a sigh, Harry met his gaze. “We have a problem. A big fucking problem. That is not the car I had in the simulator.”

Harry pressed his lips together and put his hands in his pockets, turning to face Will fully. “I know.”

Will blinked, his brain trying to catch up. Was this a joke? He’d been practicing for weeks, memorizing every inch of the car, and Harry just … forgot to tell him it would be changing? Renewed anger flushed through his chest. “You know ? This is intentional? What kind of bullshit is this? You put me in one car in the simulator and I get something completely different out on the track? How the fuck am I supposed to be ready for Bahrain if this is the bullshit I’m going to have to deal with? When are you going to get around to building the car I’ve been testing in the sim?”

“Can’t be helped, Will. We’ve got a lot to do to get the cars ready for Bahrain, and that’s how we have to allocate the resources. Decision’s come from the top.”

The team principal, then. This was his decision.

“That son of a bitch,” Will growled.

Behind Harry, Violet sniggered and glanced at that new woman Harry had inexplicably hugged , who was ducking her head to smother her own smirk. He shot a look at her, trying to figure out who she was and what he was missing. Blond hair pulled back into a high ponytail, black wool coat, black trousers, sensible black heels … some new office worker, maybe? Lennox was a big organization. He certainly didn’t know everybody yet. But why was she here in the pit, hugging Harry?

Just then, her eyes lifted to his and he blinked in surprise. She was prettier than he’d first registered, with a face like one of those Disney Princesses—high cheekbones, a nose just shy of being pert, and lush lips—and eyes that dominated her face. Large and dark green, fringed by thick, feathery lashes, with arched eyebrows several shades darker than her hair. Very pretty. And much younger than that office drone outfit let on. Early twenties, he’d guess.

He very much wanted to know what this girl looked like when she wasn’t on duty. With that blond hair let loose and a whole lot less clothing, maybe. A different sort of heat rushed through him, the kind he usually reserved for off the track. But he was in the middle of a serious work problem, so that was, unfortunately, going to have to wait.

“Look, Will, it can’t be helped,” Harry said, snapping him back to the present. “It’s going to be Matteo’s specs for a little while.”

“I can’t believe this! What’s the point of signing me if I’m not going to be supported?” Apparently he’d be dealing with a car designed and built for Matteo Gatone, Lennox’s other driver, who was the team veteran and took priority.

Lacing his fingers behind his neck, Will groaned and let his head fall back, staring at the flat gray winter sky overhead. This was a disaster. The racing world was going to give him exactly one race to prove himself before they made up their minds about him, and he was going to be hamstrung by his car. Fucking fabulous. So much for his triumphant return to F1.

“But what about all the work we’ve been doing in the simulator? We had it dialed in. You saw my stats.” He’d spent hours in the simulator generating data for the engineers. What was the bloody point if they were going to throw all that info out the window when it came to the actual car?

“It’s going to take time, and we don’t have a lot of that right now. Matteo’s times are fine in the car as is, so we had to shift priorities. We’ll update your brake ducts next chance we get,” Harry said.

“When?” Will demanded. He was finally about to get another chance behind the wheel in Formula One, and if his equipment wasn’t up to scratch, he was going to be fighting with one hand tied behind his back.

Harry held his hands up to placate him. “You’ll have it by Melbourne.”

Will blinked, absorbing that crushing blow. “That’s the second race of the season.”

“Will, sorry,” Violet suddenly interjected. “But I’m going to have to steal Harry away. Time to get Matteo’s car out there.”

“We’re in the middle of something, Violet,” Will said, through gritted teeth. “You know, about the racing we do around here? A bit important.”

“Melbourne is weeks away, which means you can wait. Today’s about pictures.” Violet smiled smugly at him before looping an arm around Harry’s shoulders and steering him away.

“No worries, I’m just a bloody driver ,” he called after her. “Happy to wait.”

Violet stuck up two middle fingers over her shoulder, still walking away.

Well fuck you too , he thought.

“Excuse me, Mr. Hawley?”

It was the new girl again. She was flipping through a notepad filled with dense, tiny writing so he gave her a closer perusal. Long neck, creamy skin, hint of pink on those cheekbones, looked fit under that coat. Forget pretty. She was hot. He probably shouldn’t go there. She was a Lennox employee, and he kept his after-hours pursuits separate from work. But he might make an exception for this one.

He’d worked very hard to purge any reckless vices that got in the way of his driving. Thank god sex wasn’t one of those vices.

He smiled and leaned in. “What do you need?”

She held up a finger to silence him, never looking up from her notepad. “Hang on …” she muttered. American. That was interesting. Not too many of them around Formula One. “I had a note about you somewhere, I swear.”

Will knew he’d had problems in the past with, erm … overconfidence. More than one scathing sporting op-ed had described him as cocky and self-important. But … seriously ? She was working for a Formula One team and didn’t already know who he was? Racing groupies were usually tripping over themselves to get him to notice them. Could this girl be at least a tiny bit impressed to meet him? A little blushing and stammering wouldn’t hurt.

He edged closer to her. In her distraction, she didn’t seem to notice. “Perhaps you’ll find me in there under ‘extremely hot, talented team driver’?” he teased, pretending to peer over the edge of her notepad.

Her eyes snapped up to his, and his smile dropped off his face. Whatever flirtatious comment he’d planned next melted clean out of his head and all he could do was look at her. That face, those eyes …

“I know who you are,” she said quietly. And that ice-cold tone of voice said she very much didn’t care who he was. Okay …

“Ah, I see Will’s already introduced himself.” Violet had finished up with Harry and was striding back in their direction. As a rule, he tried to avoid Violet, as she was almost always annoyed with him. Then again, Violet seemed annoyed with everyone, all the time.

“We haven’t actually met,” Will said, flashing a smile at the new girl again. Not so much as a hint of a smile from her in return.

“Will, this is Mira. She’s here to replace Pen. Mira, this is Will Hawley.” Violet waved a hand carelessly in his direction. “Just signed on as a driver. He’s rumored to be really hot and talented. I guess we’ll see.” Violet winked at him.

Mira. Pretty name to go with the pretty face. And replacing Pen. That meant he’d be seeing quite a lot of her. Not such a hardship.

“Yeah,” she murmured, one corner of her mouth finally tugging up ever so slightly. “I clocked the driver part.”

He was used to Violet treating him like shit. That was part of her quirky personality . But Mira seemed equally unimpressed. Maybe she just didn’t understand racing all that well. After all, she was American.

“Well, as you’re still learning the ropes of Formula One,” he said, as gently as he could. “If you’ve got any questions, I’d be happy to help you out.”

She cleared her throat and dropped her eyes back to her notepad, fiddling with her pen. “Got it, Mr. Hawley,” she said coolly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Mira’s eyes slid sideways to Violet, who smothered a chuckle. Will got the uncomfortable feeling that they were having a laugh at his expense, although he couldn’t sort out why, which annoyed him to no end. Violet was probably just enjoying watching him get shot down. She loved watching other people squirm.

“Okay, then, Mira,” Violet said, hooking her arm with her own. “We’d better get you back to the office. I’m sure Pen’s left a lengthy list for you.”

Violet began to tow her away, but Mira stopped short and spun back toward him. “Dinner tonight!”

Well, maybe the flirting had worked after all. “Sounds great,” he said.

She was still scanning her notes and entirely missed his triumphant smile. “There’s a dinner tonight for department heads, to celebrate the start of the season. Vincenzo’s at eight. Penelope said you’d know the place.”

He shifted his weight from the balls of his feet to his heels as his smile faded. Heat spread up the back of his neck as he tried to recover. “I do. Will I see you there?”

She scowled. “Of course. It’s my job.”

Then she turned her back on him and disappeared with Violet. Considering he’d just been behind the wheel of a Formula One car for the first time in three years, it was baffling that in this moment, he wasn’t thinking about the car at all. Had she just … dismissed him? That was not something he was used to from women. Whatever anybody might say about him, he was hard to ignore. But he’d see her again tonight. And he was nothing if not determined.