Chapter 9

Over the next two weeks, I had some tasks for Nix before the hard-launch of his ‘relationship’ with Clara. Over email and text, he was blunt, only responding with a thumbs-up.

He’d been busy.

I’d asked him to find some charities he would like to promote. A simple task. He’d ended up attending the Miss World charity event. He attended with two lesbian porn stars after I’d told him to show support for theLGBTQIA+ community.

When he’d winked on the red carpet, I felt it was a personal dig at me. He shouldn’t have gone with anyone other than Clara.

When I asked him to promote some personal,heartwarmingGoFundMes, he’d posted ones of women trying to raise money for breast implants.

He’d taken my suggestion of posting his snake and ran with it. On his Instagram story — for the full twenty-four hours — he’d posted a photo ofZigaround his shoulders. He was naked. The photo cut off just a little underneath his pelvis, allowing his fifty-nine million followers quite a view.

In amongst that chaos, he did what I asked, too. Always after. He wanted to make me sweat first.

The worst was when he posted a picture of a blonde woman in tight jeans, reaching behind her for his hand.

Clara was brunette. He knew that.

Thankfully, you couldn’t see her face but it was clear he was trying to fuck up all of my plans and get me sacked before the second race.

But that race came without so much as an eye roll fromCris.

Clara was still up for it.

“Right, once this is done, it’s done. You know that, don’t you?” I warned her in the pit box, looking her over one final time. She had her brown hair down in long waves, wearing the greenCiclatitop that fit tight against her breasts, baggy everywhere else, ready to hold the umbrella for Nix before the race.

Her body was to die for. Exactly the type of woman I imagined NixonArmaswith.

Apart from the fact she was far too nice for him.

She nodded, a shy glance over at Nix zipping up his boots. He might act like he wasn’t paying attention, but I knew the tells by now from team meetings where he would pretend to be immersed in his phone. His back was straighter than usual, and his neck was slightly strained.

“Once it’s done, it’s done,” she agreed.

She’d signed anNDAthat morning but there was still the option to back out right now. Until he kissed her before the race. Until he put his hands all over her and declared their relationship to the public.

No more soft-launch pictures.

“Okay, we need a picture for you to post, Nix,” I said, but when I turned to face him, he had his helmet on .

Bizarre.

He’d been acting strange ever since I told him I’d found his girlfriend. He hadn’t fought it as hard as I expected. It probably had something to do with how utterly stunning she was.

“We kind of need to see it’s you,” I mumbled, taken aback by his weird behaviour.

“She can kiss my helmet,” he said.

“She… what? Nix, take off the helmet. We have to at least see that it’s you.”

“I don’t want to do this,” he grumbled and did as I told him with a grunt. He glanced at Clara. “No offence.”

She gave another shy smile, clearly uncomfortable. When he bent and tapped his cheek, she went on tip-toes to kiss him there. He didn’t look happy, but I got the picture, and it would have to do.

“Wait,” I said as he went to put the helmet back on. He never wore it until he was on his bike, but he was acting particularly shy today. “Just both turn around and hold hands.”

“I thought you needed—”

“Nope, this will be sweet,” I cut him off. “Not showy. A little candid moment. More believable.”

It was a good thing the camera couldn’t see his face, which was covered in an angry frown.

Timidly, she reached for his hand and Nix took it with more confidence.

“Great,” I said, already sending him the photo. “We can post it next week or something. We don’t want to go straight in there, overloading.”

Another grunt from Nix. “This circus over now?”

Clara grabbed the umbrella and started to walk through the pit lane towards the grid box. I halted Nix.

“Be nice to her but don’t lead her on,” I commanded. “Learn things about her. Her favourite meal, colour, stuff like that. Be her friend.” His shoulders tensed with a tight breath, but I continued. “Give her some affection in public. A hand around her waist, smiling up at her. Despite your arrogance, surely you realise this isn’t easy to do with you. Especially when you can be a dick.”

He blinked, turning to me with repulsion. “You’re right. This is your fault. Your idea. You should be the one punished. Punished by pretending to be with me.”

“We both know that’s not happening,” I said, hand on his chest, pushing him back.

The bell rang, but he didn’t move. “It should be you.”

My mouth was dry, and my hands sweaty when I rubbed them in my jeans. “It isn’t.”

A punishment, he had said. Though I might be into that kinky shit, that wasn’t what he meant.

He didn’t want to be with me.

He kept his eyes on mine as he grabbed his helmet with force.

“It’s not too late.”

That blonde he had posted. He didn’t think that would stop our plans, did he? He didn’t think…

He didn’t think it would force my hand to be his fake girlfriend, right?

“It’s too late.”

When the next bell went, he breathed out deeply through his nose and walked out.

I’d almost forgottenLucaand the others were there.Lucacame to hug me, shoving my face into his leathers. “Damn, this is going to be fun, isn’t it?” He ruffled my hair and followed his teammate.

Before the screens,Crispatted the chair next to him. “I guess we shall see how this plan of yours works.”

He hadn’t been a fan of my idea.

“No one will believe it,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment. “I told you, no one will believe I’ll allow a relationship between twoCiclatiworkers.”

As Nix had said, nothing could hurtCiclati.

But he overestimated how many people knew his leadership values.

“Despite the silly shoes,” he continued, staring down at them with distaste, “the seat of importance is for you today, monétoile. Let’s see how he fucks this up.”

He said it with a laugh but it made me more uneasy.

The presenters spoke as the cameras panned in on the different riders, and there—in the background in second place—was a glimpse of Nix, grinning.

The same grin he often gave me. Affectionate, amused.

But he was looking up at her.

She held the umbrella in the beating sun, shielding him from the rays. She looked comfortable, smiling back down at him before shuffling closer. Then he did as I’d told him. He reached around to hold her, both hands on her hips, keeping her beside him.

The camera quickly focused on them.

The commentators mentioned his name, but I wasn’t listening, only focused on his hands on her, how he craned his neck and how she bent to kiss him.

On the mouth.

For seconds… and seconds .

They held that kiss as if they were waiting for the cameras to snap them, like a couple at the end of the altar.

“So far, so good,” I muttered. Soon enough, the grid emptied when the riders were ready to start and Clara came back into the pit box. I didn’t say anything during the race despite her standing at my back and watching. No one was to interruptCrisor Abbe’s thoughts.

Nix placed second, andLucaplaced seventh. Nix’s podium position meant he would be a sticky mess, covered in champagne, but it also made for a pretty good photo opportunity.

“You should be there when he rides in,” I told her, and I could hear the stiffness in my voice. “Get a little bit of champagne on you — no doubt, he’ll be covered — and kiss for the cameras.”

She nodded eagerly and dashed off.

And then I had to watch Nix pull up on the screens as the men around me cheered. They were tense during the race, whereas my unease started when Nix opened his mouth or did anything that wasn’t on a bike.

The presenter went to him as the winner was busy cheering and getting clapped on the back by his peers.

“Nixon, much better than last week,” he said, a microphone up to his mouth. “How are you feeling about second place?”

He shrugged but was grinning. “Not bothered about second. It will be first next week—” He stopped mid-sentence, clocking something off-camera. He ignored the presenter’s next question and instead wrapped his arm around Clara, kissing her on the head. “It won’t be hard with this cheerleader at my side.”

Damn. Okay, that looked believable. Almost too believable. For someone who hadn’t been in a relationship for years, he was oozing confidence in such a caring gesture.

If we didn’t think we had screen time earlier, we definitely did now.

The presenter grinned at the camera, eyes wide in dramatic surprise. “This is a good look on you,Armas.”

He seemed chuffed as he pulled the slightly startled Clara closer, an arm wrapped around her shoulders.

Saliha’svoice broke through the noise from the speakers. I didn’t even know she’d entered the room. It was just me and a few mechanics remaining. “Your phone’s ringing,Liv.”

I waved a dismissive hand, transfixed by Nixon doing as he was told.

The presenter asked a few more questions about lap timings and the new bike and then went to the winner of the race.

In the background, Clara was hugging Nix close as he walked up to the podium to retrieve his trophy.

They looked good together.

“Liv, it’s going again,”Salihasaid, pushing the phone before me.

I took it from her, gave her a weak smile and rejected the unknown number’s call.

Nix took his reward graciously before spraying his champagne bottle with first and third place.

When the phone buzzed again, I put it to my ear. “Yes?”

Saliha’seyebrows rose at my tone.

“Livie,” came a desperate voice I recognised. “Are you sitting down?”

“Adam?” I asked, sure I must have heard wrong. “What are you — yes, I’m sitting down.”

I thought I’d blocked him. Ex-boss, unfair dismissal. Ex-boyfriend and all that .

“Okay,” he started slowly, giving my blood time to start sprinting. “You’re going to need to come back to England.Vinny’strial is going ahead. Three of the newspapers are being sued.”

It took me a second to get over the shiver that cast down my spine.

“They’re what?”

“You’re on the list of witnesses. I thought that, despite everything, I’d give you the heads up. When you’re in town, we should meet up.”

Wow, what a way to dismiss that ‘everything’ was our three-year relationship and the loss of my job. All over because of him.

“Which papers? When? What?” I was no longer sitting. Instead, I was pacing, my slides flip-flopping asSalihawatched with concern, eyes darting from me to the mechanics who had also paused their work.

He started to explain which papers they were suing for wrongful death and defamation, as well as claiming there should have been a trial by courts and not a trial by media. He mentioned discussions with parliament on changing the law, too.

My heart was thundering, the noise of my shoes quickening. With every back and forth of my pacing, my breaths harshened. I tried to reason with myself before the panic hit me.

This could be justice. For those months of anguish, for my job, for my reputation.

I should move on. I should be done with this.

“The lawyers want to talk to you again,” he continued. “I’ve passed on your details and told them you’re working abroad, but… this might be a way to clear your name. ”

I halted and snapped, “My name is clear. I didn’t do this. I did everything right. You know I did everything right!”

“It is what it is,” he concluded. Asshole. “Let me know when you land and we can arrange a drink or—”

A fucking drink ?

“No, it is you sacking me for your reputation instead of standing by me when you should have. Fuck you asking me to come back to England and to meet up with you. I’m giving you nothing, let alone some half-ass sex where I count the divots in the ceiling. Fuck you.”

I hung up, shaking my head and pocketing my phone before turning to seeCris,LucaandSalihastaring at me.

Saliha’smouth was parted, her blinks more frequent.

Lucawas the one to step forward and pull my head into his chest. His leathers were soft and cold as he held me to him.

Criswas hesitant, still standing where he had been. “Are you okay, Livia?”

I nodded intoLuca’schest. “I’m fine. The UK police want to talk to me aboutVinny’sdeath.”

Saliha’ssympathetic smile told me she wouldn’t push for details.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,”Lucasaid, his voice rumbling through his leathers into my body.

I only shrugged but snaked my arms around him to hug him tight.

“It’s no one’s fault,” I grumbled.

Though that wasn’t entirely true.

He snorted. “Well, clearly, it was his. No one should have half-ass sex.”

“You’re a fool,Luca,” I laughed and pulled away to swat his arm lightly, only to see Nixon had appeared at the garage door with a frown aimed our way.

I kept my attention on the younger racer. He looked delighted, a happy grin on his face. “The biggest fool.”

Crisstepped forward to offer me his hand. It was rough and warm. Like my dad’s. “So, you’re going back to England?”

“I think I have to,” I said, looking apologetically at him. “I’ll be back for qualifying next weekend. They just want me to make a statement, I think.”

Nix leaned against the wall, crossing his arms and ankles as he watched closely.

His messy hair was dripping with champagne.

I had to keep him in my peripheral vision whenever he looked like that.

“Don’t worry about it,”Crissaid, shaking his head. “You have enough on your plate. You do what you’ve got to.”

“You got any family over there?” Nix asked, almost cuttingCrisoff. “Anyone to support you?”

“My brother’s a lawyer,” I said, phone back out, already getting up our texts.

“That’s not what I asked,” he retorted. “Someone to support you.”

“My brother,” I repeated. “He’ll support me legally and emotionally.” I’d have to stay at his too. I didn’t have the emotional capacity to stay at mine. I’d rather sleep amongst the fish in the Thames than stay with my mother.

LIVIE: 911. Legal help. Vinny Garvs.

And then I was buying plane tickets. As much as I hated flying, it was the only direct route.

“I have a plane that can take you,” Nix said, and I looked up from my phone to make direct eye contact withSaliha. Her eyes were wide and flickered from me to Nix and back .

“I’m okay, thank you,” I said.

With the press blasting every celebrity that made a pit-stop on a private jet, accumulating the impact on global warming in article after article, I couldn’t let him use his plane.

It was one thing to get on a plane with hundreds of others; it was another to do it alone. A smaller plane seemed less safe and stable than a commercial one.

But… that was kind of him, I guessed.

“Thank you, though,” I repeated.

He only grunted. “Fine. Don’t forget, I have the Domestic Violence Aid event. Let me know if anything changes.” And, as if he didn’t willingly bring up something on his calendar, he walked out of the pit box.