Page 14 of Fast & Reckless
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“At least they feed us.”
Will looked up from stirring his coffee as Matteo approached the catering table and surveyed the options.
“No amount of shite food is worth this,” Will grumbled, tossing his stir stick in the trash. “I hate these things.”
Matteo was thirty, and probably staring down the twilight of his racing career, but he still carried himself with the confidence of a rock star. He gave a loose shrug as he plucked a handful of grapes from the fruit platter. “I don’t mind them so much.”
Maybe that was because Matteo was fielding nothing but softballs today, Will thought irritably.
He’d never loved pressers, but he used to begoodat them. Just smile, just charm. It was second nature to him. But this round was different. He was eager to talk about the new car, about race strategy, about the Lennox team … but that’s not what they wanted Will Hawley to talk about. They wanted to talk about his fall from grace and his surprising shot at redemption. Simone and Violet had warned him that the redeemed bad boy narrative was like catnip to the press, butjust the same, it left him feeling attacked and defensive. By the time they’d taken a break, he was snapping answers and knew he wasn’t coming across as well as he needed to.
“I just hate the personal questions,” he griped.
Matteo tossed a grape up in the air and caught it in his teeth. Show-off. Clapping Will on the shoulder, he grinned. “Just stay positive and smile,” he said before heading back to his chair under the floodlights.
“Easy for you to say,” Will muttered to himself. For Matteo, they kept the personal questions to polite inquiries about his two adorable little kids. He was the mature center of the Lennox racing team, the dependable pro, and that’s how they treated him. Lennox’s respected elder statesman. Will was the wild card, the hotheaded bad boy, the flashy angle they’d use to sell their stories. It didn’t matter that he could talk about the new car’s technological improvements until he was blue in the face, because nobody asked.
As he returned to the hot seat, he could see Violet prepping the next reporter. This one was a woman, bright red suit, lots of makeup, very blond.
Behind them, he caught sight of Mira, hovering outside the glare of the studio lights bathing the drivers. She’d set herself up answering emails on her tablet, but he noticed her eyes on him far more than on the screen. Which wasn’t so bad. If he was reading her right, after that car ride, it felt like she might be warming to him a bit. Like maybe he wasn’t quite the fuckup she’d assumed. And now he had the strangest urge to prove that to her.
His expression must have been thunderous, because she grinned widely, pointed to her mouth, and then mouthedSmile. Right. As pissed off as these interviews made him, he had a job to do. There was so much on the line, for both him andthe team. He couldn’t afford to let them down. And he didn’twantto let Mira down.
By the time Violet ushered the Glamazon reporter over, he’d schooled his face into a polite smile.
“Will, this is Pippa Hollywell.”
Of course it was. He reached out to shake her hand and gave her his best winning smile. Pippa’s eyes lit up.
“Great meeting you, Will.” She flashed him her own flirtatious smile. Okay, fine, if flirtation would get him through this interview looking halfway respectable, then he’d do it.
He gave her a small, intimate smile. “Nice meeting you, too, Miss Hollywell.”
“Please … call me Pippa.”
He smiled again as she settled into her chair and crossed her long legs. Her skirt rode halfway up her thighs. She didn’t make a move to tug it back down. So that’s how she was going to play this. Will settled back in his chair.
“Okay,Pippa.”
“Let’s get started, shall we?”
“Let’s,” he agreed.Oh, yes, let’s.
“So you’re back in Formula One after two seasons in Formula E and Indy Car before that.”
What a brilliant observation, Pippa. Absolutely no one’s noted that yet, even though it’s on my Wikipedia page.“That’s correct,” he replied evenly. He deserved a fucking medal for not laughing.
“Are you glad to be back?”
That was like asking “Are you glad to still be breathing?” No one in their right mind would answer with anything other than a resounding yes.
“Delighted.” See how well he could behave?
“And you’re back with a new team.” Would this woman’s brilliant observations never cease?
“Yes, that’s true.”
