Page 7 of Kiss & Collide
“Strategic career move,” she said grimly.
“Congrats. Head of PR. That’s a pretty significant step up.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. Now I’m not so sure.”
She grimaced and stopped walking, watching him catch up to Reece and Imogen and head through the double doors into the factory. Overhead, that old ceiling leak was taunting her. Her gut had been right this morning. She should have turned around and run.
The team was a disaster and the new team principal was a nightmare. And she now had to work with a one-night stand—which, she begrudgingly had to admit, was the best one of her life—directly violating herno-stringsrule.
But she’d already trained her replacement back at Lennox. The second half of the season was about to get underway in a matter of days.
There was no going back.
2
When Chase woke up this morning, he’d had nothing more interesting on his plate than a simulator session at the Hansbach factory. Then his phone rang, and some terrified girl—whom he now knew was Imogen—had asked him, between sniffles, how soon he could be at the Pinnacle factory.
While he’d driven at breakneck speed, he’d sorted out the details with his agent, Phil. At first it hadn’t made any sense. In fact, he’d been so stunned that he’d asked Phil outright if Pinnacle knew how little sponsorship money he would bring with him. How was it possible that a Formula One team, even Pinnacle—especiallyPinnacle, which everybody knew was strapped for cash—was okay with that, even if their star was out?
Phil had tried to stall, but eventually he had to confess that Reece Hammond, Pinnacle’s brand-newAmericanteam principal, had handpicked him from the list of reserve drivers.
So he was only here because he was American, not because of his driving, and despite his lack of funding. But fuck it, he was used to being an afterthought in racing, dismissed as insignificant before he’d ever gotten behind the wheel. It just gavehim motivation. He’d prove he had every right to be here. He’d done it his entire career.
And now, impossibly, because of the whims of one rich guy, he’d made a seat in Formula One, at last. He did not give one single solitary fuck how it had happened. All that mattered was that he was here.
The excitement, the flat-out euphoria, made him feel like he might just bust out of his own skin.
Ahead of them Imogen keyed in a code to unlock the door and ducked to the side as Reece pushed his way past her and through. It was early yet, and Chase was willing to give the guy some time to prove himself, but so far, it didn’t seem like Reece was winning over any Pinnacle hearts and minds.
“Um, this is Engineering,” Imogen murmured, so softly it was hard to hear.
Oscar Davies had been across the room with a couple of people but came to greet them with another guy and Rabia Dar, whom he’d seen around the track now and then.
“Welcome to Engineering,” Oscar said with a wide smile. He was a barrel-chested white guy in late middle age, ruddy faced, with a thick head of dark hair. He reached for Chase’s hand and shook it hard.
Then Oscar gave Violet a once-over that made his skin crawl. “And who’s this pretty face?”
Seriously? That’s how he talked to staff?
“Violet Harper,” she ground out between gritted teeth. “PR.”
“Nice to have you aboard, Violet,” Oscar said to her breasts. Jesus. It was disgusting.
He took a step forward to say something to redirect Oscar’s attention when Reece cut them all off.
“So is this where they build the cars? You guys build them, right?”
“Designed and built from scratch every season.” Oscar turned to Reece, leaving Violet to stare daggers at him. He started describing the Engineering facilities to Reece, whose eyes quickly glazed over. Oscar had never bothered introducing Rabia or the other guy, and he didn’t direct his conversation to anyone but Reece.
“Hey there,” Chase finally said, reaching out to shake Rabia’s hand. “I’ve seen you around, it’s nice to finally meet you. Chase Navarro.”
“Rabia Dar, associate design engineer. This is Leon Franklin, head of Engineering.”
Leon, a compact Black man with long, thin locs held off his face with a band, leaned past Rabia and shook his hand.
“Good to meet you, Chase.”
Chase gestured to Violet, who was watching all this unfold. “And this is Violet Harper. It’s her first day, too.”
