Page 14 of Kiss & Collide
“Um, Violet?” Imogen was standing just inside the conference room door, clutching her iPad to her chest like a shield. “Reece wants to know what time his interviews start.”
Oh, no. If the press got so much as five minutes of face time with Reece, Pinnacle would become a laughingstock overnight.
“We talked about this. He’s not scheduled for interviews today.”
“But he wants—”
“He can’t. He’s going to be talking with Kevin in Race Strategy, who will be bringing him up to speed for the next race, like we arranged.”
“But he said he can do that any day and—”
“Imogen,” she said gently, “I’m going to need your help here. Under no circumstances can Reece enter this room. I need you to keep that from happening.”
Imogen’s eyes went wide with anxiety. “How do I do that?”
Violet sighed. “Imogen, I’m going to tell you a secret. Reece isn’t in charge here.”
“Violet, he’s my literalboss. His name is on the door—”
“Yes, but that’s just a name, isn’t it? Does he know anything about racing?”
Imogen shook her head.
“Doyouknow something about racing?”
Imogen nodded. “Been watching with my dad since I was little.”
“I used to watch with my dad, too,” Violet said, and even she could hear how her voice dipped into a snarl when she mentioned him.
“Really?”
“Yep. I’ve got my hands full with these guys, which meansyou’rethe one who’s going to have to guide this ship. You’re in charge of his schedule.Youactually know what you’re talking about. Are you up for it?”
Wide eyes. A tremulous nod. “If I have to?”
Violet suppressed a grin. “There you go. So take charge of him. And once he finishes with Kevin, I bet there are a thousand things that need to be signed off on all over the factory, yes? So lead him around and get him signing off. I’ll handle this in here.”
“If you think it’s best …”
“Imogen, it’s necessary. Now go.”
As Imogen scurried back out, conversation from the other side of the room caught her attention. It was Chase, surrounded by reporters, even though she’d only slated him for five minutes at the end. He was dressed as he always was, like a careless university student who’d just rolled out of bed—jeans, a grotty gray T-shirt, and beat-up old trainers.
“And I’m telling you, this seagull came swooping in out of nowhere—”
“While you were in the car?”
“While I was in the car! And the bastard took a crap on my visor!”
The reporters burst into laughter. She looked from Chase to the reporters, two guys and a woman. They were hanging on every word of his dumb story. Theyadoredhim.
Chase’s hands moved through the air with an innate physical grace as he continued the story. That bright white smile of his flashed like lightning between words. His overly long, glossy black hair managed to look both messy and perfect, falling across his forehead in a careless sweep until he unconsciously shook it back.
This was it. The key to generating positive press for Pinnacle—Chase.
Chase was beautiful, if a little rough around the edges, and he hadit—charisma. That look-at-me factor you couldn’t teach or train.
She’d been up close to this kind of star quality once before. Last time, she’d gotten badly burned. But she was much smarter now.
