Page 30 of Fast & Reckless
Fine, she’d go. One drink and then she’d plead exhaustion and catch a cab.
“My hair—” She started for the bathroom but Violet grabbed her arm and yanked her back.
“Is divine. Honestly, I don’t know why you straighten it every day. Those curls are glorious.”
Her relationship with her hair was complicated. First of all, it was hermother’shair, the tumble of platinum curls that had made Cherie Delain famous. But Mira’s was a little less golden, a little less ringlet-y, just … less. Second, her hair was … well, it was the first complimenthe’dever paid her. He’d told her the riotous curls made her look untamable. And at the time, that sounded amazing. Ever since that had blown up in her face, she’d worn it straight and pulled back, as a reminder of whatnotto be. Tame was okay, actually.
Mira gave her reflection one despairing glance before Violet tugged her away. She managed to snatch her black jacket off the back of a chair before Violet shoved her out the door.
“You wouldn’t have believed this website guy, Mira,” Violet said as they waited for the elevator.
“That one fromFormula Fan?”
Violet rolled her eyes. “Thought he was bloody Tom Hardy, trying to charm me into getting him an interview with Matteo. I swear, I get so tired of having to play nice with these wankers.”
“So maybe you should—”
The elevator doors opened in front of them but it wasn’t empty.
“Well, hello, ladies.”
Mira didn’t know him, but everything about him screamed driver. He was crazy good-looking, with jet-black hair and eyes and a killer body. He slouched against the railing with that innate physical confidence they all had.
Violet sighed, a sound of deep disdain. “Chase.”
“Violet,” he replied, grinning, his teeth flashing white against his tanned skin.
Violet hooked her arm into Mira’s and steered her into the elevator, pointedly facing away from him.
Undaunted, he reached a hand between them toward Mira. “Chase Navarro.”
Violet let out a disgusted snort and rolled her eyes.
Mira twisted awkwardly—since Violet wasn’t releasing her arm—and shook his hand. “Miranda Wentworth.”
“Paul Wentworth’s kid, right?”
“She’s also a kick-ass assistant, thank you very much!” Violet shouted.
Chase raised his hands in defense. “I’m sure she is. Congrats on the race today, by the way. Lennox looks great.”
“Thank you. And you—?”
But she was cut off by the elevator doors opening on the second floor. Chase pushed off the wall of the elevator, brushing past them. “This is me. Miranda, nice to meet you. Violet …” He paused as he left the elevator, then smiled at her again. “Always a pleasure.”
“You little—” But the elevator doors slid closed again, cutting her off.
“Who in the hell was that?”
“Nobody!” Violet snapped.
“Well, he’s clearly somebody.”
She sighed impatiently. “He’s on Hansbach’s Formula Two team. Can youbelievethat name? A driver named ‘Chase’? As fake as the rest of him.”
“How do you know him?”
“Oh, he’s F2, so he’salwaysat the parties. Last season I was doing my job, chatting up this journo, and the asshole sailed right in and stole her away so he could flirt with her. I mean, all the drivers sleep around, but Will’s gotnothingon that one. He’s the worst.”
