Page 72 of Fast & Reckless
“This issport. This is not a proper job,” his father growled.
Will’s temper, only barely tamped down, flared up like dry tinder. “Thisis a multibillion-pound industry.” He pointed to a stack of promotional material Velocity had just sent over. “I’m about to sign one of the largest sponsorship deals in Formula One history. I’d think evenyou’dbe able to appreciate the money involved, Dad.”
Unfortunately, the infamous shirtless black-and-white Velocity ad lay on top of the pile. Not showcasing him at his most professional, but Will was past the point of caring. Mira was right—that sponsorship deal was huge, andhewas the one making it happen. That was nothing to be ashamed of.
His mother glanced at the Velocity ad and slammed her eyes shut. “Good heavens, it’s that horrid photo. I can’t believe you’re proud of that.”
“Nine generations of Hawleys have handled the finances of some of the finest families in England,” his father said in that stupid House of Lords voice of his. “All the way back to King George the Third. But that legacy wasn’t enough for you. You had to throw it all away for this. Your name in all the scandal rags, taking your shirt off like aPage Sixwhore, and using our good family name to selltrainers.”
“Those ads are going to fund an entire season’s research and development and help pay the salaries of four hundred employees. Yes, Iamproud of that. And when I’m not selling trainers for Velocity, I’ll be behind the wheel of the most technically advanced car on the planet, driving it better than anyone alive. It’s not bloody Hawley and Sons banking forfossilized British families, but I’ll be damned if I apologize for it. Not to you or anybody else.”
“Hey—” Jem reached out to touch his arm but he yanked it away.
“Sorry, Jem. I know you meant well, but this was always going to be a disaster. Look, I’ve got a race,” he said, heading toward the door. “I know that means bugger-all to you two, but it’s important to me and every other hardworking person out there, so I don’t have time for your fucking judgment.”
“Will—” Jem tried again, but he was already out the door.
31
The post-race reception after Silverstone was packed. It was Lennox’s home turf and Will had won, so tonight was a celebration. Her dad and Natalia were making a slow circuit of the room, shaking sponsors’ hands, accepting congratulations on the day’s success, and toasting the team. He didn’t need Mira, so she retreated to the upper balcony overlooking the floor, where she could brood in peace.
Meeting Will’s family today had bothered her. He’d been doing exactly what she’d asked of him—keeping what was happening between them private. She knew she had no business having hurt feelings that the meeting had been so brief and impersonal. But she did anyway.
It wasn’t until she was standing in front of them being dismissed like the help that she realized she wanted more. Well, maybe not from his parents, because they seemed like assholes. But his sister and brother seemed nice. She wished she’d been able to meet them as Will’s … what?
The midseason break started tomorrow. She kept telling herself they needed to discuss it, but every night she chickened out, afraid of what she might hear. So now Will was off to NewYork and she was heading back to Essex, where she’d hang around, obsessing over him and what he might be doing without her. Ugh, how had she wound up here?
She could see him down on the floor below with his family. His parents looked miserable. They must have had him late, because they were older than she’d have guessed. Generational differences didn’t account for their shitty attitudes, though.
Predictably, Will looked wretched. Her hands tightened on the railing, wishing she were down there to tease him a little, and coax him back into a good mood. But even if she could, maybe he wouldn’t want her to. After all, she could see women all over the room below eyeing him with interest, ready to move in the moment there was an opening. Maybe he was fine with what they currently were—late-night secret hookups. But she didn’t think she was anymore.
“Here you are.”
She spun around as Violet approached. “Oh, hi.”
“You’re missing all the toasting downstairs.” Violet was holding two champagne flutes and passed one to her.
“Thanks,” she said, taking a sip.
“So why are you lurking up here alone? You look like you’re plotting an assassination.” Violet joined her at the railing and looked down at Will’s parents just below. “On the other hand, if you wanted to assassinate those two, no one would blame you. What a couple of puffed-up wankers. How did a pair of such insufferable toffs produce Will Hawley?”
“Classic rebellious youngest son.”
“His sister is mad cool, though.”
“I didn’t really get to meet her.”
Violet turned to eye her. “You know, if he’s sleeping with you the least he could do is introduce you to his family.”
Having her secret exposed triggered a familiar flush of panic, but she kept her eyes on the party below. “What are you talking about?”
Violet rolled her eyes. “Please. Leave off the valiant denials.”
She bit her lip, debating. After seven years, here she was, back to keeping secrets and lying about a guy, and shehatedit. She was desperate to confide in someone, especially after today.
“How did you guess?”
“Aside from the fact that you two have wanted to climb each other since the moment you met?”
