Page 25 of Formula Freedom
Because some things are too important to rush.
Instead, Reid pushes up and perches on the edge of the couch, studying me with a thoughtful look. “You can’t stay holed up here all weekend.”
I blink at him. “And I don’t want that. I either stay here or I can head back to Torquay.”
“You need to stay here. Lance knows I’m protecting you and I’m hoping that will keep him away. But regardless, you can hang out at Matterhorn. I know my parents will want to spend some time with you. We’ll figure out a way to keep a buffer between you and Lance and if we’re lucky, you won’t even have to see him.”
“I really would love to stay for the race. I was looking forward to it.”
Reid beams me a smile. “It’s settled then. You’re coming with me tomorrow. You can hang out in the hospitality suite to watch qualifying. Otherwise, stay close to me or Carlos and I’ll leave instructions that Lance isn’t allowed at Matterhorn. That way you don’t have to hide from him and can lead your life.”
I hesitate, chewing my bottom lip.
Reid leans in, his voice low and sure. “I want you there. With me. As my guest. As my friend. You belong out there a hell of a lot more than he does.”
The warmth in his words chips away at my fear. I find myself nodding before I’ve even fully thought it through.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll come.”
His smile is slow, steady, reassuring. “Good. I’ll get you a pass in the morning.”
I pull my legs onto the couch, curling into the corner. “What about race day, though? We were all supposed to sit together—your parents, my parents, Lance and me.”
Reid’s expression hardens. “Yeah. That’s obviously not happening now. I’ll get you a VIP pass to the hospitality balcony over pit lane. It’ll be safer, more private, and you’ll have a killer view. No one will bother you there. I’ll see what our parents want to do, but Lance isn’t allowed.”
The relief that washes over me is almost overwhelming. I nod, unable to find the right words.
“We’ll figure it out. One thing at a time.” He then surprises me by pulling me to my feet and wrapping his arms around me in a hug. “I got your back, yeah?”
I nod into his chest.
Yeah.
CHAPTER 8
Lara
The Matterhorn hospitalitysuite smells of fresh coffee and pastry, my stomach rumbling with envy. Waitstaff bustle between linen-draped tables, offering croissants and tiny espresso shots to drivers, engineers and VIP guests.
Reid walked me up to the door and with a squeeze to my shoulder, peered down to look at me. “I’ve got some pre-qualifying press to do, but Posey will be here soon.”
“Go, get out of here. I’ll be fine.”
His lips go to my forehead and I close my eyes, relishing in it. When he’s gone, I grab a plate with croissant and fruit, as well as a flat white, and nab a high-top table in a corner. I keep my eyes sharp and spot her the minute she walks in.
Posey Evans. I’ve seen a picture of her—several, actually. Google her name and she’s all over the place now since starting a high-profile relationship with Lex Hamilton, one of the world’s best drivers.
Our eyes connect and she waves at me, pretty as a picture with her glossy brown hair and hazel eyes. As she gets closer, I note the smattering of freckles across her nose—just like mine—making her look even friendlier than her megawatt smile suggests. She’s wearing a casual jeans-and-blazer combo that somehow looks effortlessly stylish, even among a sea of branded team gear.
“Hey, you must be Lara!” she says brightly as she greets me.
“That’s me,” I say with a small laugh as she pulls me into a friendly, brief hug. There’s no awkwardness, despite the fact we’re meeting for the first time.
“Reid said you might appreciate some company this morning,” she says, and then glances back at the food line. “I’m starved, so I’m going to grab something. Be right back.”
I’m not sure when Reid put this all together but as we were leaving the hotel this morning, he told me he’d arranged for me to meet Posey for breakfast. “Figured you could use a friend to hang out with today to watch qualifying,” he’d said, and I was utterly charmed by his thoughtfulness.
When Posey returns with a bowl of yogurt and granola, as well as an espresso shot, she hops up onto a stool. “This is like a blind date, isn’t it?”
