Page 35 of Green Flag
Cris looked from Abbé to Luca and back. “Our media manager—”
“I’m here!” Livie cried, breathless. “I’m here. Let’s just discuss the boundaries. You’re not to mention…”
And as she rattled on, Luca nodded, distracted. He answered their questions robotically, sometimes with nothing more than a nod. He was fluent in English as if it were his mother tongue — having grown up in America — but at one point, asked them to rephrase.
A stalling tactic.
Until they asked more specifically about the race and what went wrong.
He skimmed over that, but when he spoke about overtaking the other racers, he had more excitement in his voice.
Until they asked again about Alv and Livie escorted them out. She stroked Luca’s arm through his leathers. “Sorry, Luca, I told them—”
“Can’t be helped, Quinnie,” he said, shaking his head.
Quinnie? What the hell was that?
No one else blinked or looked them over with the narrowed eyes I did.
Livie turned to me, her perfectly waxed brows low on her pale face. “We need to talk, Everly.”
“Uh, okay,” I mumbled, blood rushing to my face. Why did I feel like I was about to get told off at school in front of my classmates?
“Don’t,” Luca sighed. “She was only trying to help me.”
“You don’t need help, Luca,” she said, voice tight. “Everly, your dad has told me not to treat you any differently and… if you want to be on the track next race, you need to simply smile. And not get involved.”
I nodded. “The press—”
“They’re scum, yes,” she said. “But things are tense right now. You’re either on our side, which is trusting me that this will work out, or you’re not on our side and you can take yourself back to VIP.”
“She wanted to help,” Luca said, stepping closer to me. “It’s her first day.”
“Help by smiling,” she said with a sigh. “Stand straight; look like you want to be here instead of disgusted. Talk to the people on tours about themselves as if they’re new to racing. The feedback I received wasn’t great. They were confused. You have to explain things.”
A lump grew in my throat as tears welled in my eyes. On the tours, I got a bit carried away, showing off everything I knew because, for once, I did know everything. I channelled my father’s passion through the walk around the facilities and I thought he’d be proud…
Maybe I wasn’t cut out for this. But I had to be for just a few more months, because something I could do? Be at my Dad’s side for every flight, with the mechanics while they loaded the tech. Ask Saliha for my dad’s schedule.
Find proof.
“I’ll help her,” Luca promised with quick nods. “Don’t worry. She’ll be on the track next race.”
Her gaze flickered from me to him and back before she mumbled in agreement and left.
I thought I might collapse to the floor. She’d been so lovely yesterday. And, yes, I may have been in the wrong, but… that was brutal.
Luca guided me to the seats that lined the wall, away from the others. “She’s not normally like that,” he said, standing over me with a sheepish smile, his shoulders raising and lowering. “In fact, she’s never like that. This inquiry has got her stressed, so…”
“No, it’s fine,” I said, waving a dismissive hand. “I—I get it.”
Ciclati were being glared at through a microscope. The last thing they needed was the director’s daughter kicking up a fuss and looking like a sourpuss.
“I just… I hated the way they spoke to you. It was either telling them what I thought or punching them. And I don’t know how to throw one.”
Luca sat beside me, raising a brow. “Don’t let her hear you say that.”
I groaned with a deep exhale.
