Page 72 of Red Queen
I try showing her that I’m getting better for her day by day, so that she doesn’t change her mind about us. I think I’m doing a good job so far. She’s still here, so I’ll take that as a good sign.
Even if I was furious two weeks ago in Brazil, when the engineers told me that I won’t be able to race because the fuel was leaking from my car, Rosa made me forget about it soon enough. She has a way of calming me down easily. I’m not calling her a witch for no reason.
Honestly, I wasn’t so sad I didn’t race that day, after I crashed out. The whole race was a disaster; the rainstorm was super bad, almost like in the UK when I had my accident, if not worse. There were five dnfs, most of them happened because they crashed into the wall. The only positive from that day was that nobody got hurt.
Asher finished in 5th place, increasing our gap once again. I still have hope that I can surpass him, but I need a little luck with it too, since there are only two races left.
The race in Vegas yesterday wasn’t much easier, either. I qualified quite behind on the grid, since at the last stage, just two minutes before the end of the session, Huck crashed into the wall. His car was taking up most of the track at one of the turns, so they red-flagged the session, and I couldn’t run the last lap on the new tires.
But even though qualifying went to shit, this track provided some good places for overtaking, and I managed to fight my way back to the top. After they told me on the radio that Asher’s out of the race because Liam tore up the car’s side while he was trying to overtake him, I knew I had to win. And that’s what I did. So now I’m 14 points ahead of Asher, with only two races left in the season. God help me.
“Can you please pull the zipper up?” Rosa walks into the room, and my mouth falls open at the sight.
“Miss, you look impeccable.” She chuckles as I trace my fingers up and down her back, making her shiver.
“Thank you,” she says, wrapping her arm around my neck, leaning into my kisses as I plant them around her neck and collarbone.
The red sparkly dress fits right around her, highlighting her curves in all the right places. “You know, I’d rather pull this off you and see the beauty you’re hiding beneath. And you’re quite brave asking me to do this when you know damn well how easily you can turn me on.”
She smacks my arm playfully, tugging on her dress again so I can pull the zipper up. “Well, I can’t do it myself. So if you don’t want to miss out on a cowgirl tonight, I’d advise you to work those fingers, Acosta.”
I burst out laughing, but I do as she says, not risking being denied sex. I’d be dead after an hour if I couldn’t touch her in any way possible.
“You’re good to go, querida.” She gives me a quick kiss before she puts her shoes on, ready to head to the Moscardi gala.
Around half an hour later, we arrive, the huge building, decorated in fancy stuff. The gold and silver garlands, the tall, lit-up fountain, the thousand cameras waiting for us to pose… I think it’s too much, but all in for the sponsors, right?
I help Rosa out of the car, and we walk inside the building. We’re welcomed with champagne, and I take two glasses just to make sure. I’m not really good at schmoozing, but the sparkling liquid usually helps.
“Mr. Acosta, this way please.” A woman approaches me, signaling for me to follow her and walk on the red carpet. Ah, taking photos already. Great.
I try to pull Rosa with me, but she opposes. “They’d like to take some pictures of you first, sir.”
“It’s okay. Go.” Rosa smiles at me, and I reluctantly let her arm go.
Cameras flash as I step on the carpet, seeing that Aiden and Barney are already there. They take a couple of hundred photos of me, and then usher them back to join me. I don’t know how, but I feel like there are suddenly even more cameras pointing at us.
“Are you as excited for this evening as I am?” Aiden whispers in my ear. I can barely make out his words; there is so much chatter around us.
Keeping the fake smile on, I answer him. “I’m even more excited than you, isn’t it evident?” He chuckles, only this time it’s real.
“Yeah, yeah, super obvious,” he says, and after a couple more seconds, I decide I’ve had enough of these photos and walk off to grab Rosa.
As we walk back on the carpet, cameras flash around us. Then I hear a photographer talk, and my blood boils.
“Get off him, Rosalia! We want more pictures of him alone!”
I grumble, gripping Rosa’s waist even strongly, trying not to snap.
“Yeah! You’re taking up the whole picture!” another says, and that’s all it takes. Did he just call her fat? I’m gonna strangle him.
I lock eyes with the guy as I walk closer to the railings, not letting Rosa stop me. “You talk about my woman like that again, I’ll make sure you won’t see the daylight tomorrow, cabrón.”
I point at the photographer who insulted Rosa, making sure he got the memo. No one fucks with my girl. I pull her off the carpet, taking our way to the bar.
“No, come on. Let’s dance.” She tugs on my suit, making me follow her.
There’s a slow song playing, so I slide my arm around her back, then pull her close, burying my head into her shoulder, seeking comfort from the one person keeping me sane. We start swaying, just like we did in Mallorca, and I kind of wish we could go back there.
