Page 3 of Formula Freedom
Lance smooths out his features. “Yeah, not quite as flashy as spraying champagne on the podium, but hey—someone’s gotta keep the lights on.” His arm goes around Lara’s waist. “Besides… I got all I need right here.”
Fuck… that’s the lowest of blows.
The tension is thick and I focus on Lara, trying to soften the moment. “Hey, Lara. You look… great. Doing okay?”
Lara attempts a bright smile, her gray eyes smoked with resolve. “Thanks, Reid. It’s good to see you. It’s been a while.”
“Yeah, I don’t get home too much these days to visit. You been traveling with work?”
What little light her eyes held dies. “Mostly sticking close to home. I’m able to work remotely, but I have to travel to Sydney once in a blue moon.”
Lara graduated college with a degree in architecture and from what I understand through the grapevine—meaning our mums—she’s very good at what she does.
Lance looks down at Lara, his tone patronizing. “We decided it was best for her to stick closer to home, especially after the wedding.”
I don’t know what the fuck that means, but I can see Lara’s eyes darken with sadness. She’s clearly not on board with that, but it’s not up for me to interfere.
I mean, I’d like to interfere. Punch my brother in the nose because he’s an ass and Lara deserves better, but she’s his and not mine.
It’s a reminder that I need to make an escape. “Well, glad you’re here. Hope you enjoy the race.” I look around, desperately seeking Carlos, but he’s nowhere in sight. I do see a woman, however, that I very much would like to meet. “Actually… if you two would excuse me. I need to talk to Nash for a moment.”
I cringe when Lance’s eyes land on Nash and glow with predation. “Great, I’ve been meaning to introduce myself to him. I’m trying to land a deal with Titans Racing and it can’t hurt to bend his ear.”
I can’t say no but I’m already very sorry for bringing this salesman to Nash’s doorstep. After Lance didn’t get a contract renewal down in FI3 racing, he floundered for a bit. But his determination to make it back into racing was undiminished. He simply doesn’t have the talent, but he thinks hobnobbing with the best will get him back in.
I could give him some brotherly advice and tell him not to bother because he doesn’t have the talent to make it, but who am I to crush such tender dreams?
I move toward Nash and the real person I want to meet, the Titans’ chief strategy engineer, Bex Toliver. She’s making waves in the racing world and I’ve heard her intellect and foresight are beyond compare.
“Nash,” I call out, and he turns my way. I’m aware that Lance and Lara are following me.
Grinning, Nash offers his hand. “Good to see you, man. Have you met Bex yet?”
“I have not, but that’s the reason I beelined over here.” I turn to the pretty Brit. “The new Titans’ strategy mastermind. You’re the talk of the circuit these days.”
Bex’s laugh is husky. “I’m not all that interesting, but it’s great to meet you. I’m a big fan.”
I’m painfully aware of my brother behind me and I need to make introductions. I angle my body, sweeping my arm. “This is my brother, Lance, and his fiancée, Lara Candlish.”
More handshakes and, once again, Lance pulls Lara into his side, an obvious show of possession. I hate that I notice the look on Lara’s face—she’s clearly uncomfortable—but I hate it even more that she doesn’t do anything to break away.
“Having fun tonight?” Nash asks.
I glance back over my shoulder, see that Gunner is still talking to Brita. I toss my thumb that way. “Trying to escape a woman who doesn’t know how to take no for an answer.” My eyes cut briefly to Lara, but she shows no expression. It’s like she’s disconnected. “She’s handsy and won’t leave me alone.”
Nash nudges me in the shoulder. “Come on, mate. It’s a perk of the job, right? To get as many track kittens after you as possible.”
Bex’s eyes twinkle. “How about you just tell her you’re gay? That should nip it in the bud.”
I bark out a laugh. “That’s a great idea. If she approaches me again, I’m going full-on gay mode. Guess those big strategy brains of yours are good for more than just winning races.”
We lapse into race talk and I’m fascinated by Bex’s knowledge. I try to include Lance in on the conversation because, while he wasn’t that great behind the wheel, he knows the sport. He wanted an in with Nash and I’m providing it, but he’s weirdly standoffish. Instead, he seems to be glaring at me, but I shrug it off.
“I need to use the restroom,” Lara says, and my stomach bottoms out when she looks up to Lance quietly… as if… asking his permission?
No fucking way. Lara is her own person.
Bex steps toward Lara and takes her hand. “So do I. Come on, let’s go find it together.”
