Page 4 of Formula Fling

Now she’s the only female team principal in FI, which is no small feat. I’ve done enough research to know that Harley Patrick holds perhaps the most vital role in this organization. She’s responsible for managing the team’s race strategy, engineering decisions, driver management, sponsor relationships and media interactions. She is the leader who coordinates the efforts of all departments to ensure success on and off the track, and the pressure on her to produce a winning team must be immense.

I stand up quickly, smoothing my pants with trembling fingers.

“Elizabeth Evans?” Her voice is warm but firm, and I nod, my mouth suddenly dry.

“Yes, that’s me. But you can call me Posey. It’s what everyone calls me.” I try to sound confident, but my voice wavers slightly. I’m prepared for her to out me as a charlatan, but she smiles at me warmly.

“Welcome to Crown Velocity.” Harley offers her hand, which I take, cringing that my palms are a little sweaty. “Come on in.”

I follow her back through a maze of halls to her office which is all sleek, modern design—glass walls, minimalist furniture and large windows overlooking the perfectly manicured grounds and lake beyond. It’s impressive, but then again, everything about this place is designed to impress.

We sit and I try to relax into the chair, but I’m too busy wondering if she’s already figured out that I’m not who I say I am. I resist the urge to confess all, beg her forgiveness and plead to still get the all-inclusive entry that’s been granted to me under my guise as a journalist.

“I was really inspired by your idea for this article,” she says, leaning back in her chair and kicking both her Chuck-clad feet up on her glass desk. I notice a replica of the Crown Velocity car sitting on top of a stack of folders.

“Thank you, Ms. Patrick. I—”

“Harley. Please call me Harley.”

“Harley,” I repeat with a smile and relax a little. “FI racing has really started to take off in the States with the documentary on Netflix, and since Brad Pitt has a movie coming out, I thought it would make a great freelance piece for me to sell, especially since the sport is attracting female fans in droves.”

“And Brienne Norcross is buying a team,” she adds. “Really tying the sport further to America.”

“Yes,” I say with enthusiasm. “And you as well. An American female stock car racer heading up an FI British team. It’s so inspiring and empowering. I’d love to bring that same love to women across the pond.”

Just… in the form of a romance novel.

“Well, I agree,” Harley says as she clasps her hands over her stomach. “We need more press coverage if we want to teach new audiences about the sport. There are so many intricacies that go into it. A lot more than just super aerodynamic cars flying around a track at breakneck speeds.”

I nod with a polite smile, because I intend to teach my romance readers about formula racing while weaving a sexy, swoony romance in behind it. In addition to bolstering my career, I would love to bring in a whole new slew of fans and I know women love their sports as much as men do. Plus, these drivers are super sexy and that’s a selling point as well.

“So, where will you be staying while you’re here?” Harley asks, her tone conversational as she leans back in her chair. “Obviously, Crown Velocity will put you up when we travel to Bahrain, but there’s a lot for you to do and see while you’re here over the next few weeks.”

“I’m at a hotel in London for now,” I admit. “I didn’t get a good chance to look at Airbnbs in the area and that’s probably my best bet, so I don’t have to commute every day.”

“London’s nice, but the drive is a pain in the ass.” Harley’s smile turns into something more genuine. “I was actually going to suggest you stay closer to the team here in Woking.”

“I’ll start looking today,” I assure her.

“Good, because you’re going to be busy, and I am putting you with the best possible ambassador for our team who can teach you all about this sport. Lex Hamilton.”

My heart skips a beat. Lex Hamilton? Number one driver for Crown Velocity, incredibly talented and—according to every tabloid I’ve ever read—way too naughty for his own good. He’s got a reputation as a bad boy off the track. A bit of a playboy, if we’re being honest, and why wouldn’t he be? In my humble opinion, he is only the most gorgeous of all the FI drivers and yes, I noticed. An occupational hazard.

“That… that sounds great,” I manage to say, though my nerves kick in at the idea of spending so much time with Lex. He’s definitely part of the cool kids’ club and well… I’ve never even been invited to peer inside the door. While I’m confident in most things, I’m an introvert, preferring small gatheringsto large parties, and I don’t like meaningless conversation. However, I can act the extrovert when needed, although it can be draining. What I hope to do is bring forth what my dad referred to as the Evans spunkiness so I can stack up next to the greatness that is Lex Hamilton.

I remind myself that I’m a badass bitch because I’m sitting here with permission, and I’ve got the lady balls to see this through. I won’t let Lex Hamilton and all his hotness unnerve me.

“You’ll have full, unfettered access to Lex,” Harley continues, and I can’t tell if that’s supposed to be a blessing or a curse. “Day and night, on and off the track. He’s agreed to it. We want you to see every aspect of a race car driver’s life.”

I nod, feeling the pressure of keeping my cover even tighter now. “I appreciate the opportunity. It’ll really help with the article.”

“Good.” Harley’s eyes narrow slightly, as if she’s weighing me up. “I assume you know about his reputation?”

“Yes,” I say hesitantly, not wanting to commit to a stance. “I’ve done my research into FI, including all the drivers.”

“He’s on his best behavior now, or so he promises,” Harley says with a raised brow. “But if you run into any problems, I want you to come straight to me. Understood?”

“Understood,” I say, trying not to sound as nervous as I feel.

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