Page 8 of Kiss & Collide
He’d already been buzzing with adrenaline when he walked in the door this morning, and as soon as he set eyes on Violet, he started buzzing with an entirely different kind of energy. She was in a tight, wine-red striped suit that made her legs look somehow even longer and more spectacular than he remembered, and her black hair was blown out straight and silky, reaching to the middle of her back. Every time he looked at her, images of that night in Monte Carlo flooded his brain. His fingers fisting in that long black hair as he pulled her head back and licked that long pale neck … pushing his way between those long legs as he pressed her up against the wall and fucked her there … It was incredibly distracting to say the least.
And now she was here, at Pinnacle. This day just kept getting better and better.
Violet gave Rabia a nod. “We’ve already met.”
“During this morning’s rousing welcome speech,” Rabia muttered, shooting a glance at Reece’s back.
“Looks like they’ll be a while,” Leon said, indicating Reece and Oscar, “so why don’t we take you over to the garage and introduce you around? The mechanics want to meet you.”
“Sounds good,” Chase replied. “I’d like to meet them, too.”
Leon cracked a smile. “A driver who hangs with the mechanics. Knew I liked you.”
“The mechanics always know where the good food is in every city on the circuit.”
Leon chuckled. “Guilty as charged. Follow me.”
As they followed Rabia and Leon down a hall lined with offices, he glanced over at Violet. She was watching Rabia and Leon, who were carrying on a conversation entirely in whispers.
Violet nudged his arm with her elbow. “Keep an eye on these two,” she murmured under her breath.
“Who? Rabia and Leon? Why?”
“I guarantee you, if you need something done around this place, it’s these two you need to talk to.”
“And Oscar?”
“Useless,” Violet said dismissively. “These two are the brains of the operation. Trust me. If you need help with the car, you go to them.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, I guess?”
“Okay,” Rabia said, swiping her ID at another door. “Here’s the car in all its glory. Don’t get your hopes up.”
The race bay was significantly smaller than the one back at Hansbach, and missing a lot of the high-tech bells and whistles, but he wasn’t under any illusions about Pinnacle.
“Your timing is good,” Leon said. “The body’s on. Yesterday it was in pieces all over the factory.”
One of Pinnacle’s cars was nearly fully assembled in the middle of the race bay, and Chase’s eyes traced over it, assessing. The floor edge looked like a straight line—unlike those of thetop teams, but he wouldn’t know how it would play out until he got behind the wheel.
“When can I get in the sim and try it out?”
“When the engineers finally sort out which setups they want to start with in Austria,” Rabia said. “They’ve been bickering about it for days.”
“Hansbach’s got software that runs all the possible variables and determines the optimal—”
“Yeah, well, we don’t.” Rabia sighed. “One of the many upgrades Oscar has decided isn't worth the time and money. So they do it by hand, one variable at a time. Then you test them out and they decide on the next one. Hope you’re ready to spend a lot of time in the simulator.”
“I’m happy to do whatever it takes,” Chase said, and he meant it.
Rabia scoffed. “Then get comfortable in that sim, kid. You’ll still be in it when you’re my age.”
3
Her first day at Pinnacle had been an utter shit show, and every day after looked like it was going to be just as bad. This was why, as soon as Violet escaped the factory, she headed to the nearest pub.
Eldham was grim—a featureless British town where the most cutting-edge fashion was whatever Marks & Spencer carried, and the “local” was just another bloody Wetherspoons.
But Wetherspoons served vodka. And it was close enough to her new flat that she could just stagger home on foot once she was sufficiently drunk.
