Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
??LONDON, ENGLAND
“ M y name’s Rowan Emerson and I’m a car mechanic.”
Ava couldn’t help but chuckle behind the rim of her flute of champagne when Rowan introduced himself to the camera and the little crowd gathered around the new car. Soft laughter erupted from around, resulting in a wide grin drawing itself upon Rowan’s face.
She kept her gaze on the fast car and its brand-new livery, admiring the shade of red the team had settled for—a mixture of maroon and carmine, something more savage and brutal than last year’s burgundy.
She listened to the F1 presenter ask Rowan and Thiago their general opinion about the vehicle, and when Rowan’s voice echoed first, she couldn’t help but peer at him.
With one hand tucked in the front pocket of his trousers, he held the microphone to his mouth. She watched the spotlight cast a glow on his chest where tattoos were curling on the base of his throat and slipping underneath the unbuttoned dress shirt hugging his torso.
Whilst Rowan was all dishevelled, uncaring, and wild, Thiago was pristine, classy, and calm.
“I hope it goes fast,” Rowan said, his stare focused on the car, taking in the halo, the sidepod, the rear wing. “As much as I loved staring at Valencia’s behind last season, I need to give him a taste of his own medicine by offering him a lovely view of my behind.”
Another echo of laughter.
Thiago slipped his free hand into the pocket of his trousers and shook his head in disbelief. “You’d have to be able to overtake first to be in front, darling.”
Rowan narrowed his gaze. “I wouldn’t be all pompous and proud already, mate. Game’s on. But don’t worry, if—and let me emphasise on the if —you’re faster than me, I’ll defend you like a king. The opposite is most likely to happen though, let’s be real.”
“I knew you loved staying close to me,” Thiago joked, draping an arm around his teammate’s large shoulders. “But let’s not fight to become Minister of Defence. I’d rather wear the crown—the champion’s.”
Rowan’s eyes rolled dramatically. “You’re already the Crown Prince of the paddock. Give me something.”
“You’re the heartbreaker of the paddock,” Thiago said, shrugging coyly. “Your title is just as sweet as your persona.”
“That’s so nice of you to say,” Rowan droned, pushing his teammate’s arm away. “ Your Highness.”
Thiago grinned, slightly shifting to wink at the camera. “Your Royal Highness, please.”
The banter between those two was always entertaining and amusing to watch. Ava bit the inside of her cheek to restrain her smile from growing and diverted her gaze back to the car as she listened to Rowan talk more seriously.
“How’d he react?” a voice whispered in her ear.
Ava startled at the sound of Kamari’s voice, then turned towards her. With a subtle nod of her chin, she asked Ava to slip away from the crowd to stand further in the back.
Ava rose a brow in silent questioning, tilting her head to the side as she watched Kamari ogle her boyfriend like he was the most handsome man she had ever seen. Well, Thiago Valencia was a beautiful man. But to Ava, he was more like a brother.
Ava loved Kamari for Thiago and vice-versa. She was good to him—patient, loving, supportive; everything he had ever needed and wanted in a woman. After working for two entire seasons with Thiago, she had gotten to know the man deep to his core—minus all the secrets and burdens he kept to himself—and considered him as one of her closest friends.
The mere thought of knowing she’d have to spend countless hours and days with Rowan to follow him, check on him, and keep his image clean was already annoying her. Rowan was a handful—she knew that. She had always admired Ellie’s capability at handling him, but she was not Ellie. Ava didn’t know how to bring Rowan’s barriers down without irritating him. Didn’t know how to laugh at his jokes without rolling her eyes in annoyance. Didn’t know how she was supposed to stand him.
“I know you’re not Rowan’s biggest fan,” Kamari explained quietly. “And he isn’t yours. Thiago filled me in on all the gossip.”
“Oh.” Ava chuckled, everything but amused. “Well, he isn’t very pleased about the news, but whatever. I’m sure we’ll both get over it and move on. I’m not going to let his dickhead energy ruin me. We can do it. We can work together and not kill each other.”
At this point, Ava wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince, herself or Kamari, but she teetered towards the former option, nonetheless.
“You’ll get over that hatred,” Kamari assured kindly. “You know, I didn’t like Thiago at first.”
She took a sip of the sparkling wine. “Why?”
“He was rude. And too pretty to be real. He made me feel things no one had made me feel before and I didn’t like that.”
But all Rowan could make Ava feel was thundering irritation, molten bitterness, and rare anger to the point of having her heartbeat batter erratically—and not in a good way. Those were everything but positive feelings.
A small tap on her shoulder obliged her to turn around and shock rippled through her body when she faced a tall, muscular man with brooding features.
Tate Richards was, undoubtedly, as handsome as his best friend, Rowan. With his light brown hair and piercing blue eyes, he knew how to attract a woman’s—or man’s—attention. The only issue was that he rarely smiled. Still, he was less infuriating than the driver whose voice echoed in the background.
“I’ve got something for you,” Tate announced as he lifted a pair of shoes. Not any pair of shoes—her white Converse.
Begrudgingly, she grabbed them and gaped at Tate whose face didn’t show a flicker of emotion. “Uh, thank you. But…why?”
She felt Kamari slip away, and she ached to turn around and beg for someone to rescue her. Because whatever Tate was doing was weird. Unexpected.
The physiotherapist’s gaze dropped to her bare feet. “Boss made me do it.”
In sync, they turned towards Rowan. His attention was focused on Thiago as the latter spoke, debriefing about his previous season.
“That’s…” Suspicious . What was Ava supposed to say? That it was nice of him? Sure, it was, but Rowan was everything but nice. She offered a small smile to Tate. “Just thank him for me.”
Tate nodded and turned around. “Will do.”
The biggest cloud of turmoil was now fogging her mind. Rowan had gone from nearly shouting in her face that he refused to work with her, to asking his physiotherapist slash best friend slash brother to run upstairs to fetch her pair of shoes. That was madness. She didn’t need to be saved.
Still, she appreciated the gesture.
Discreetly, she walked into the cafeteria and took a seat on the first chair she saw. Scrunching her nose when she realised she would put her dirty feet in her shoes, she sighed before slipping the sneakers on.
Better than nothing.
Leaning over to tie the shoelaces, a shadow came to loom overhead.
“I like this style. Converse with a fancy dress. Very Ava of you.”
Ava chuckled and straightened herself, her gaze colliding with Eliott Dalton’s blue eyes. His usually tied-back hair fell to the middle of his neck as he grinned down at her before gesturing towards the empty chair opposite her.
“Don’t you have work to do?” she asked, though she nodded and permitted him to join.
“I’m sadly not in charge tonight. All I have to do is watch and sip fancy champagne like the lucky bloke I am.”
Eliott was part of the creative team as a content creator. He would always roam around the paddock with a few cameras hanging around his neck, busy snapping amazing photos he would send to a teammate, who would post those on social media. He was probably the person she was the closest to on the team because they had started at the same time, and were around the same age. As she used to follow Thiago everywhere, Eliott would be following them alongside Alexander Myers, who was both Thiago’s best friend and personal content creator.
“So, cat’s out of the bag, huh?” He leaned back in his seat and smiled. “Excited?”
A small frown touched her brows. “About what?”
“Well, you’re working for Rowan now.”
Ah, that.
Trying not to show her annoyance, she nodded eagerly and forced a smile. “So freaking happy.”
Eliott looked at her amusedly. She couldn’t lie. Didn’t know how to. “Are you sure?”
“Certain,” she replied, tone clipped with a faux grin still plastered on her lips. “So, why did you follow me here?”
Eliott lifted his shoulders in a sheepish shrug. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Her strained smile shifted into a genuine one. “That’s sweet of you.”
When Eliott drummed his slender fingers atop the table, he offered Ava a wicked glance. “Did you want to sneak out and drink champagne on the rooftop?”
She didn’t so much as think as she stood up. “Can’t say no to that.”
When they returned to the busy entrance hall, everyone’s attention was focused on the two drivers talking about their hopes for the new season. Eliott grabbed two glasses of champagne and, with a subtle nod of his head towards the exit, silently asked Ava to follow him.
They walked towards the lifts exchanging a small glance. What Ava wasn’t aware of, was that someone had been watching her intently.
“And what about your break?” Eliott asked, depositing the empty glass next to him. “I only talked about mine.”
Ava shivered when the cold breeze caressed her bare skin. Wrapping her arms around herself, she glanced at the lake below, observing the silvery glow of the moonlight spilling on the calm water.
“It wasn’t very interesting. Not as adventurous as yours.”
Eliott hummed, placing his forearms atop the railing. “That’s okay. Everyone’s got their definition of taking a break. I travel and you take care of yourself. That’s cool.”
Ava snorted softly. “I’m not a cool person, Eliott.”
She could feel his gaze on her, but she kept her stare on the lake, trying to seek a sliver of warmth by rubbing her cold flesh. “I think you are.”
The compliment was akin to warm sunlight peeking through clouds. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she smiled softly and nodded. Ava never knew how to respond to remarks like this.
“Listen,” Eliott carried on, unaware of her slight discomfort. “I’ve been meaning to—”
The sound of his voice was concealed by loud laughter and the door opening. Ava pivoted to watch Tate Richards, Callahan Langdon—Thiago’s physio—and a few other men stroll outside, followed by the one and only Rowan Emerson.
Though the men only waved or dipped their chins in acknowledgement when they noticed Ava and Eliott, they didn’t comment on their presence as they walked to the other side of the rooftop. But when hazel eyes burning with unrelenting anger found her gaze, she held her breath, bracing herself for the tornado about to catapult into her face.
Rowan strode towards the pair in long, wrath-filled steps, fingers flexing by his sides. “Dalton,” he said, barely looking at the photographer who had come to stand beside Ava. “May I have a minute with Avery?”
“Ava,” she corrected grimly. The athlete only smirked smugly, like her frustration was amusing him.
“Sure. I was about to head back downstairs, anyway. It’s kind of chilly out here. Ava, I’ll see you on Monday?”
“Yes.” She rapidly peered at her friend and smiled softly. “Get home safely.”
Eliott returned her kind gesture. “You, too. Night, guys.”
Rowan fluttered his fingers in farewell. “Bye-bye, sweetheart.”
Ava counted three heartbeats before looking back at Rowan, and crossed her arms. He dropped his stare, tracing the route of her forearms until he reached her chest and the column of her throat.
“You’re freezing,” he noted coldly. “And that guy didn’t even give you his jacket?”
Ava sighed through her nose. “I’m fine.”
“You’re obviously shivering.” With a tight jaw and an expression full of blatant annoyance, he threw his head back and groaned skywards. Then, he took his jacket off and handed it to her. Ava blinked. Gaped at his tattooed and ring-clad hand extending the piece of clothing. “Just fucking take it, Avery.”
She wasn’t cold anymore; her blood had started boiling the minute he had stepped onto the rooftop, her pulse thumping against her temple in a nearly deafening rhythm. “I just said—”
“Don’t force me to put it on you,” he bit out. She still couldn’t look at him. “I’d rather stay far away.”
She scoffed. “At least we agree on something.”
“Just put the jacket on.” He released a grunt, like it physically pained him to muster the following word. “Please.”
Ava gave in with a sigh and grabbed the blazer, although with slight reluctance. She rolled her eyes when he crossed his arms, waiting for her to shrug it on. His cologne enveloped her senses—masculine, intoxicating. She focused on the notes of citrus and pepper, ignoring how she was practically floating in Rowan’s clothes.
“Thank you,” she whispered, blinking up at him as she basked in the warmth of his jacket and scent. She fought the urge to linger her regard on the tattoos curling around the base of his throat and the lean muscle hidden beneath his unbuttoned shirt.
He was unnervingly handsome. And he knew it.
His throat worked as he swallowed. Jaw still clenched, he nodded then jutted his chin at her feet. “Are you going to thank me for the shoes?”
She huffed. “I was getting there.”
“Save your breath.”
Rowan’s eyes flashed as he stared down at her body, swallowed down by his oversized blazer. “See, Avery,” he started, that coarse voice of his sending chills arising on her spine. “Your behaviour tonight is exactly the reason why I don’t want you to be my press officer.”
She wanted to bury her hands in the pockets of the coat, but to prevent herself from doing so, she simply curled her fingers until her hands were balled, her eyes narrowing into thinner slits. “Elaborate.”
He took a step forward whilst she stood immobile. “I don’t appreciate people leaving in the middle of an interview when I’m the centre of attention, even less when it’s my publicist.”
She had to crane her neck to look into his eyes. “I’m going to stop you right there. Before you lash out at me and fault me for all my wrongdoings, get it inside your head that I don’t owe you anything. You didn’t need my presence or services during the car launch. You were doing just fine being under the spotlight.”
“You just fucking left,” he seethed. “That was disrespectful.”
“I get it. And I’m sorry for that. Don’t you start believing that’s how it’s going to be once we start travelling and working together. You know I was good to Thiago, and as much as it flipping pains me to work for you, my work will be just as perfect and professional, if not even better.”
The edges of his irises were illuminated with reckless anger. She now realised she had rarely seen him so angry, but she wasn’t afraid. Wouldn’t yield. For the most bizarre reason, she wanted to understand why he was so terrified to be let down. Surely, it wasn’t because she had left the car launch party early.
“You’re going to sabotage me,” he accused, utterly convinced by his own words.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” She stepped closer and folded her arms beneath her breasts. Neither of them had noticed they were nearly standing chest to chest, their bated breaths entwining before curling into puffs of air. “I’m the best publicist you’ll ever have. Your reputation will be perfect. I will make sure people worship you and never catch a glimpse of the vile man you are when you’re not racing. People will love you more and more each day, and that’s because I’ll work hard on my end to defend you. Just because I snuck out during an event where I knew what you’d be saying anyway, doesn’t mean I will fail at doing my job.”
Rowan was starstruck. For a few heartbeats, he stared at her, his jaw going slack. He whistled then— whistled. “Damn. Small, but feisty.”
Ava tipped her chin up, holding his burning gaze. “Do not underestimate me. If you’re so convinced I’ll make your life a misery, you’re wrong. Get your head out of the gutter and stop acting like a baby. You’re going to blow that cover one day, you know.”
A frown touched his eyebrows, and she gaped at the deep crease forming between them. “What cover?”
She unfolded her arms, ready to push the jacket off her shoulders. “You know what I’m talking about. I need to leave—”
Rowan interrupted her. “There are no more trains at this time of the night.”
She frowned as the jacket fell off her shoulders, the cold breeze causing shivers to skitter down her spine. His gaze dropped to her bare shoulders, her collarbones, taking in the way she couldn’t hide the slight tremors corrupting her body. “I’m aware. I’ll ask someone to drop me off.”
She was confused. About his regard, about the whole turn this day had taken, her new job position, the encounters with Rowan, and the way he had been acting with her.
She presumed they were both on the edge of exploding, unable to know how to deal with this new situation.
At last, she looked away, fully taking the jacket off. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”
His deep voice startled her, but not as much as the contact of their skin when he lightly touched her wrist to push it back towards her. “Just keep it. Wouldn’t want my amazing PR officer to catch a cold. Don’t be late on Monday. We’ve got stuff to work on. I’m so looking forward to being your worst living nightmare.”