Page 4 of Kiss & Collide
“It’s not just that!” the girl exploded in a wail. “We’ve beensold! ToAmericans!”
“What??”
At that moment, her phone, clutched in her hand, vibrated with a text from Mira.
I’ve just heard some unbelievable dirt. Tell me it’s not true.
Violet blew out a breath and typed out a reply.
Did you hear Pinnacle’s been sold to some Americans? Because I just got here and that’s what I’m hearing, too.
Sold to Carter Hammond!Mira replied.
Violet looked up at the girl currently weeping in front of her. “Carter Hammond?”
The girl let out another wail and buried her face in her hands.
She typed out another text to Mira.Obviously walking into a shitstorm here. Will call later.
You better!
Violet closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Okay, so the situation at Pinnacle would be a little more … volatile … than she’d been expecting. It was fine. She started her career wrangling an irresponsible rock band. She would need to handle this, whether she was ready for it or not. This was the problem with talking your way into things. Sometimes you ended up dumped into the deep end.
Opening her eyes again, she focused on the crying girl. “What’s your name?”
She broke off sobbing and blinked at her. “Imogen Hubert. Assistant to the team principal.” Her face, flushed and wet with tears, screwed up again. “WhowasRichard …”
Imogen seemed like a far cry from Mira, who was also the team principal’s assistant, with her spreadsheets and lists and scary competency. But then again, when she’d first met Mira, she’d underestimated the spine of steel behind the princess face. Maybe there were hidden depths to Imogen, too.
Imogen let out another wail.
Maybe.
“Stop crying,” Violet said as gently as she could manage. “Crying doesn’t solve anything.”
Imogen sniffed, then stared up at Violet with a trembling lower lip, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Let’s deal with one crisis at a time, okay? So Carter Hammond has fired Richard Clewes. He must have someone he wants to put in his place?”
Imogen nodded shakily. “His son. Reece Hammond. He’s already here.” Her lip wobbled dangerously.
Violet pointed a finger at her. “British stiff upper lip and all that rubbish, right?”
Imogen gave a shaky smile. Progress.
“You’d better take me back so I can meet him for myself.”
Imogen nodded and turned to lead the way, but just then, the double doors she’d come through minutes before, evidently leading into the bowels of the Pinnacle factory, banged open, vomiting a stream of people into the atrium.
The one in front she immediately pegged as Reece Hammond. His American accent booming off the high atrium ceiling was a dead giveaway. She had nothing against Americans. Mira was American and she was her best friend. But why did he insist on being soloudlyAmerican? Violet sensed in an instant that she wasn’t going to like one bloody thing about Reece Hammond.
He was younger than she might have expected, had she been expectinganyof this. Maybe in his mid-thirties. Beginning to get a bit doughy in the middle but trying hard not to let it show. Dark haired, tanned, like he spent a lot of time on the beach. Expensive dress shirt, no tie, dark jeans that were too tight on him,veryexpensive titanium Rolex.
He was talking—loudly—at the older man next to him. She recognized him from around the track. Oscar Davies, Pinnacle’s chief technical officer. Old-timer in Formula One. Hadn’t designed a winning car as long as Violet had been alive.
When Reece reached her, he stopped, running his eyes down her body and back up. If she hadn’t already decided she hated him, that would have sealed the deal.
“Who’s this?” He must have thought his oily, overly whitened smile was charming.
