Page 15 of Fast & Reckless
“How are you liking being part of the Lennox Motorsport organization?”
“It’s great. I think Lennox is a really good fit for me as a driver. Our goals are very aligned.” Simone had drilled that statement into his head during his media-training session. He could say it in his sleep now.
“Has the organization been welcoming to you?”
Now his eyes did slide over to look at Mira, and he couldn’t help keeping his gaze pointedly on her when he said, “Very welcoming. I’ve been embraced byeveryoneat Lennox.” A tiny smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, too, despite how hard she was fighting it. The satisfaction of cracking that frosty reserve of hers distracted him enough that Pippa’s next question sailed right past his defenses.
“Do you think they’re worried that you’ll fall apart midseason like you did three years ago?”
“Pardon?”
Pippa shrugged as though to say,Oops, I don’t know where that question came from either, recrossing her legs, once again leaving her skirt up around her thighs. If she thought a nice pair of legs and the tease of a crotch shot would distract him, she had grossly underestimated him. His eyes stayed firmly on her face.
“Well, you did have a rather well-documented public meltdown—”
“I think meltdown is overstating things a bit—”
“—that led to your abrupt dismissal from Hansbach three years ago. Have you tamed your demons?”
How the fuck was he supposed to respond to that? As he took a moment to process, Pippa flipped her sleek blond hair over her shoulder and smiled, leaning forward enough to give him a good view of her cleavage, if he were inclined to look.He wasn’t. Staring her down, he replied through clenched teeth. “I think my driving speaks for me. It certainly convinced Paul Wentworth.”
Pippa chuckled softly. “Yes, he was rather enamored, wasn’t he?”
“He wasimpressed,” Will snapped. His knee began to bounce involuntarily.
“Of course he was,” Pippa cooed. “Enough to take an enormous risk and bring you aboard the team.”
“Paul trusts in my abilities.”
“I’m sure he does,” Pippa said with a tiny pout and a false expression of understanding. “But does he trust you to control your more self-destructive tendencies?”
Will shifted forward in his seat. “Look, I might have made a few questionable choices in the past, but now I’m here to race.”
“Hmm,” Pippa said, fishing something out of her notebook. “And perhaps get loaded at a party or two?”
She held out a photograph, but Will refused to take it. He could already see it and he recognized the moment. It was from this past New Year’s Eve. One night. He’d gone out for drinks exactly one bloody night in all the weeks he’d been at Lennox. Just pints with a couple of guys from the team to toast the New Year. He’d stopped at one and ended up driving Omar and Ian home when they’d both gotten hammered. Partway through the evening, he’d been recognized by a couple of inebriated female racing fans. They’d begged for a photo. How could he say no? He’d been a bit surprised when one dropped herself into his lap. Maybe a bit startled when the other kissed his cheek as she angled her phone at the three of them. They’d giggled their thanks and stumbled away, off to some other pub. All totally forgettable.
But there he was in that photo, squinting into the flash, looking half-wasted, one girl draped across his lap and the other hugging him around the neck and kissing his cheek. It looked awful, like those horrible paparazzi shots of him three years ago that cropped up every time he went out.
“Where the fuck did you—”
“Okay, we are all out of time!” Violet called in a high, forced singsong, stepping between him and Pippa. With one quick turn of her body, she bumped her hip into Pippa’s hand, sending the photo falling to the floor. “Oops, let me just get that for you.”
She scooped up the photo before Pippa could even reach for it, and it disappeared, secreted into Violet’s pocket or her clipboard or somewhere. Pippa scowled. “If I could just—”
“We’re on averytight schedule today. I’m sure you understand.” Violet slipped a hand under Pippa’s arm, not-so-gently lifting her out of her chair.
Will didn’t wait around to hear the rest of Pippa’s protests as Violet steered her away. He was out of his chair, ripping off his mic, and storming across the studio in the opposite direction, toward his dressing room.
When he reached it, he slammed the door behind him. “Fuck! Bloody buggering fucking hell!” His voice bounced off the walls of the small space, echoing in the stillness. In two minutes, that witch had laid waste to everything he’d spent three years repairing. He might as well have been fresh off his dismissal from Hansbach, washed up at twenty-two and a fucking pariah.
“Will?”
“Can’t anyone give me a moment of goddamned peace?” He spun around to find Mira standing just inside his dressing room.
9
Mira quietly shut the door and leaned back against it. Will was pacing the tight confines of his dressing room like an animal in a cage, his hands fisted into his hair.
