Page 11 of Kiss & Collide
“How’s your staff? Can they help lighten the load?”
She laughed bitterly, remembering the introduction to the rest of the PR department that day. “One’s called Maisie. She looks about sixteen, but I’m told she’s actually twenty-one. She works on ‘online engagement.’ Today she said not one word beyond ‘hi.’ I’m not exaggerating. Not a single word. The other one is called Horace. He’s forty-five, has all the charm of a rubbish heap, and immediately informed me that his contractual duties cover drafting press releases and no more.”
“Yikes. Poor you.”
“And then there’s the Oscar Davies issue—”
“Notorious, I’m afraid,” Mira muttered.
“Yes, I know. Stuck in the nineties. Sexist. Open about it. Uninterested in innovations of any sort. A brilliant quality in your chief technical officer. And then, on top of all of that, Joren quit and—” She cut herself off before she spilled that other piece of bad news.
Mira chuckled. “You mean your new driver? The word’s already out. Sorry, I know he gets on your nerves.”
She pressed her forehead against her palm. “It’s just a bit … awkward.”
Mira was silent for a beat. “Violet. You didn’t.”
She sighed in defeat. This was the problem with friends. They knew you really well. “Sleep with him? Yes, I did.”
Mira let out a shocked laugh. “You don’t even like him!”
“Who said anything about liking him? I just fucked him.” And fucked him, and fucked him, and fucked him again. All night long.
“What … how …when?”
“It was Monaco, the Hansbach party. The oneyouwere supposed to come with me to.”
“I told you, it was an emergency—”
“It’s fine. Anyway, I was on my own, and … there he was.”
“And you just decided tosleepwith him?”
“There weren’t any better prospects. And heisridiculously fit. The body is—”
“Okay, that’s enough aboutthatmess. Tell me about Reece. What’s he like?”
Violet laughed without humor, but she felt better, talking about all of this with Mira. “Have you got time? This might take all night.”
4
As soon as Chase was away from the Pinnacle factory, he made the call he’d been dying to make all day. His father picked up almost immediately.
“Chase? What is it? Are you all right?” Dad’s Spanish accent always got thicker when he was caught off guard.
“I’m fine, Dad. Are you at work? I have some news.”
“Your mother and I both work from home on Mondays now. What is it?”
He had to force the words out around the tightness in his throat. “Dad, I did it. Formula One. I’m driving for Pinnacle for the rest of the season.”
Through the phone, he heard his father inhale sharply. “What … how?”
He gave his father the short version, ending with his arrival at Pinnacle this morning. “So that’s it. I’m in. Thirteen races left in the season.”
“My boy! I’m so proud of you!” He could hear the tears in his father’s voice, and it made his throat get tight again. He blinked away the burning in his eyes. “I told you, Chase. Didn’t I tell youyou’d make it to Formula One one day? You were born to drive! I’m so happy!”
He chuckled. “You did, Dad. Every day since I was four.”
