CHAPTER 19
Willow
With a week between races and no desire to fly back to North America only to have to turn around and fly to Hungary a few days later, I’m back in Monaco – with Dev.
If we’re going to push on with our plans to show other teams why they’d be lucky to snatch him up, we kind of need to be together. Together in the physical sense. Well, not that kind of physical, but physical as in being in the same place. Yeah. That.
The saving grace is that he’s put me up in a hotel instead of insisting that I stay with him at his apartment. I have no doubt he was tempted to offer, but he was smart enough not to try.
In the past several days, the tension between us has been stretched taut, and it’s threatening to snap. I’ve put as much distance between us as I can while still doing my job, no matter how difficult that’s becoming. And difficult feels like an understatement at this point.
This past weekend, at Silverstone, he started and finished eighth. Nathaniel, on the other hand, was forced to start from the pit lane because of a gearbox replacement, which meant the team had nothing to hold over Dev’s head in order to make Nathaniel look better. Still, Dev used the slight from the week before as inner fuel to push as hard as he could, and seeing him do so made me want to work even more diligently. I’m determined to get him out of Argonaut and to a team that actually deserves his talent.
But that means spending more time with him, and that means fanning the flames of my crush more fervently. I didn’t think it could get any more intense, especially after the Fourth of July party and the way Dev winked at me at the press conference. And yet my heart swelled when he pointed me out to his fans for being the one behind some of their favourite videos of him, or when he smuggled a vanilla latte in for me before the full team meeting on Saturday because I’d been running late and hadn’t had a chance to grab one.
I’ve been careful to keep my feelings firmly in the crush category, avoiding any other labels. Nothing like falling in love, even if that might be a more apt term for what I’m feeling. I can’t let it be that serious.
Thankfully, he’s given me some time to breathe and get a handle on my emotions, since he insisted I take a few days off over the break. And even better, it has coincided perfectly with the last-minute trip Grace planned after she called me on Friday night to ask where in the world I’d be next week – perks of having the summer off and no concerns about money.
So now the oxygen is being squeezed from my lungs as one of my best friends hugs me. Or maybe she’s trying to kill me. I’m not quite sure.
‘I missed you so much,’ Grace coos, somehow clutching me even tighter. ‘I’ve been so bored. I absolutely needed to go somewhere fun.’
‘You’ve been in Hong Kong,’ I point out once I manage to suck in a slight breath. ‘Objectively one of the coolest places on the planet.’
She waves a hand, brushing off my comment and also giving me a much-needed reprieve from her embrace. ‘Yeah, yeah. It’s a cool hometown, but still a hometown. But this place’ – she sweeps the same arm to motion to the hotel we’re standing in front of – ‘this is what I’m talking about. This is the vacation I needed.’
‘Don’t get too excited,’ I warn her as we turn for the lobby. Behind us, an employee of the hotel is loading her luggage onto a cart. She’s staying a week, but that didn’t stop her from packing six bags. ‘I’m not exactly a high-rolling gambler, and I definitely don’t have the budget to spend more than five seconds on a yacht.’
That said, my paycheques from Dev and Argonaut have been eye-wateringly large. They’ll be enough to keep me living comfortably in New York for the next year, even if I don’t find another job after leaving this one.
The reminder that Dev and I will part ways at the end of August, just a month from now, makes my heart lurch. The past several weeks have been some of the best and most exciting of my life. I’m going to miss the action and the thrilling pace of the sport – and I’m going to miss Dev.
Even knowing I won’t see him again until the end of this week sends a wave of disappointment washing over me. Grace’s presence takes the edge off the sting, but still, I just . . . miss him.
‘So, have you fucked him yet?’
I blink in surprise and dart a look at Grace. One of her black brows is raised, and the smirk on her lips says she’s got me all figured out.
‘Excuse me?’ I splutter, taking a stumbling step back.
She uses one perfectly manicured nail to circle my face. ‘That look. You were thinking about Dev.’
‘Was not,’ I say, entirely too quickly to be believable.
‘You sooo were.’ She pokes her finger into my forehead, grinning as I bat her hand away. ‘I know that look. You were thinking about a boy, and the only boy you’re interested in is Dev. Thus, my question: have you fucked him yet?’
I shush her, whipping my head around to make sure no one overheard her. ‘Keep your voice down,’ I hiss, grabbing her arm to drag her into the lobby with me.
‘What?’ she protests, taking one step for every two of mine. ‘It’s a legit question. I need to know if I won that bet with Chantal.’
I barely resist the urge to groan. ‘You’re awful. And neither of you is winning.’
‘Are you saying you don’t want to fuck him?’
This time, a few sets of eyes swing our way, and I quickly pull her into an alcove by the elevators for some semblance of privacy. ‘What I do or don’t want doesn’t matter,’ I say. My tone is firm, but my heart is thudding away and threatening to make my voice shake. ‘We’re working together, and we don’t need that kind of complication, or the backlash, no matter how we feel about each other.’
She tilts her head, studying me. ‘So, the attraction is mutual, then?’
Dev’s voice echoes in my head, telling me how much he’d like to see me in pasties like that waitress was wearing. I nearly choked at the time, but it also sent heat shooting through me, making me seriously consider whether we’d be missed if I dragged him off to the nearest dark corner.
When I don’t immediately reply, Grace goes on, twirling a piece of her inky hair between her fingers. ‘I only ask because there’s this clip of him going around right now. He’s winking at someone in the crowd, and all the girlies are going wild over it. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?’
The question is deceptively innocent, but I know her game, and I won’t be declaring that the wink was directed at me. ‘Not a thing.’
‘Huh. Shocking.’
I roll my eyes, not wanting to play this game right now – or ever. ‘Come on,’ I grumble, grabbing her arm again to get her to the elevator. ‘Let’s get you away from the general public.’
She giggles but follows me willingly, a bounce in her step. ‘I better be a bridesmaid when you and Dev get married!’
——
A few days later, I don’t think there’s a single street in Monaco I haven’t seen.
Grace may not be from here, but she’s the ultimate tour guide, and I have to respect the spreadsheet she made to make sure we didn’t miss anything. We’ve checked off nearly all of it, but there are still a few spots we’ve yet to hit.
She’s explaining our itinerary for the day as I swipe on some mascara, kneeling on the bathroom counter so that I’m tall enough to see myself in the mirror. This hotel suite was not made for those of us who stopped growing in fifth grade.
‘After that we could hit up—’ Grace cuts short, frowning in the direction of the bedroom. ‘I think your phone is ringing.’
I glance down at the counter, looking for my phone among the make-up scattered over the surface. I could have sworn I brought it in here, but it’s nowhere to be seen. Scrambling onto my feet, I right myself quickly and slip by Grace, who’s hovering in the doorway of the bathroom. Hustling over to the bed, I discover that my phone is indeed lit up and buzzing.
‘It’s probably just Oakley,’ I tell her as I grab the device. We spent most of yesterday sending each other ridiculous F1 memes, which has been our primary method of communication lately. You can say a surprising amount about how you’re feeling with a single photo of Thomas Maxwell-Brown’s hilariously expressive face.
But surprisingly, it’s not Oakley calling.
My heart surges into my throat when Dev’s name flashes at me. I hesitate for a split second before dragging my finger across the screen, answering with an embarrassingly breathy, ‘Hey.’
‘Hey,’ he replies. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt your morning, but I need you.’
Again, I’m thrown by Dev’s phrasing, and I lose the ability to speak for a beat. Thankfully, he continues, saving me from having to fight to find words.
‘I know I said I could handle it myself, but I might need some help with this podcast,’ he explains, and I blow out a quiet breath. ‘When I do interviews, Patsy’s usually hovering a foot away, making sure I don’t say anything I shouldn’t. And we both know I’m an idiot with no filter, so it might be a good idea to have someone close by to tell me when to shut up. Which means . . . would you mind being my Patsy today?’ He pauses for a second, the words fast when he speaks again. ‘I mean, unless you already have plans. I know you have today off, so—’
‘I’ll happily be your Patsy,’ I interrupt with a laugh. ‘But just as a heads-up, one of my friends is in town, and—’
‘Oh, shit, I’m sorry. Forget I even asked, Wills. Go have fun.’
‘No, no, it’s fine,’ I reassure, eyeing Grace, who’s watching me with a curious brow raised. ‘I just wanted to ask if it would be okay if she came with me.’
‘Of course. The more people to keep me from putting my foot in my mouth, the merrier.’
I snicker, trying to fight a grin so that Grace doesn’t start hounding me about Dev again. It’s no use, of course. I can’t help smiling. The second I hang up, I can expect a litany of lascivious comments to fly.
‘Great, we’ll see you soon,’ I say.
I’ve barely hit the end button before Grace is throwing herself on the bed beside me.
‘Am I about to meet Dev?’ she demands, a sparkle in her dark eyes that I absolutely do not like.
I push up from the mattress and busy myself by packing my purse for the day. ‘If you embarrass me in front of him, I will never forgive you,’ I threaten. ‘Promise you’ll be on your best behaviour?’
Her smile is nothing short of Cheshire. ‘Oh, absolutely.’
——
Thirty minutes later, I’m standing outside Dev’s apartment door, my sweaty hand poised to knock, with Grace at my side. Before my fist can hit the solid wood surface – and before Grace can nag me again to hurry up – it swings open with a rush of air. And then there he is, hitting me with the full force of his smile.
‘I’m so fucking glad you’re here,’ Dev says, grateful brown eyes locking on me.
I think my response is intelligible, but my brain is short-circuiting at the sight of him.
Grace bumps me out of the way and stretches her hand out to him. ‘I’m Grace.’ She’s practically buzzing. ‘It’s nice to finally meet you.’
I swear Dev’s smile changes just a fraction as he focuses on Grace. It doesn’t fade or shrink, and it doesn’t come anywhere close to disappearing, but it’s . . . different. It’s the one meant for his friends and his colleagues and his family. It’s different from the one when he’s focused on me.
I’m too busy dwelling on what that means to attend to their conversation until we’re inside the apartment and Grace announces, ‘Willow’s been lost without you these past few days.’
I whip my head around to her, horrified. I’m trying to splutter a denial out when she follows up the statement with, ‘Seriously, girl’s a workaholic. She doesn’t know how to relax.’
The clarification pacifies me a little, but it doesn’t stop my cheeks from flaming. ‘Yeah,’ I laugh, the sound choked. ‘I’ve been working on a few things. I couldn’t help it.’
‘See? Doesn’t know how to take a break to save her life,’ Grace goes on. She’s quickly distracted by the race simulator set up in the corner of the living room. ‘Ooh, I have to try that.’
As she scurries over and climbs into the low seat, I turn to Dev, offering an apologetic grimace. ‘I’m sorry for her. She has no filter.’
Dev chuckles, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans. ‘Don’t apologize.’ He’s looking my way, but his focus is fixed on something over my shoulder. ‘I appreciate her honesty.’
I can read between the lines on that. He and I certainly aren’t being honest with each other these days. We’re still dancing around the elephant in the room, watching it grow by the minute. Before long, we’re either going to have to own up to how we feel or let it crush us under its giant feet.
‘Plus, I don’t want you burning out.’ He finally looks at me, a hint of worry in his eyes. ‘I feel bad about calling you on your day off.’
I shake my head, but I do appreciate his concern. ‘It’s fine. I’m happy to be here.’
That’s the truth. A few days apart has left me missing him more than I thought possible. I’ve tried to push thoughts of him aside and enjoy my time with Grace, but it’s been difficult. So much of my life revolves around him right now. It’s kind of hard not to think about him when my camera roll is filled with photos of him, when this city is full of Formula 1-related media and merchandise, and when all I want is to curl up in bed beside him again and giggle over a cheesy Bollywood movie. It’s got me feeling like a silly teenager all over again.
Taking a quick breath to centre myself, I nod toward where his laptop is sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch. ‘You ready to do this?’
The cheeky grin is back, the one that’s just for me. ‘You ready to make sure I don’t say anything that’ll make my reputation worse?’
I blow out a breath. ‘Let’s see what we can do.’
——
By the time the interview is finished two hours later, Grace has crashed on the racing simulator about sixty times, and I’ve nearly cried off all my make-up from laughing at Dev’s out-of-pocket – but never offensive, cruel or incriminating – answers. Dev, of course, has managed to charm the hell out of yet another group of people.
His quick banter and quips with the Australian hosts made the hours feel like minutes, keeping me so entertained that I almost forgot I was there to prevent him from saying anything he shouldn’t. Turns out, he didn’t need me at all. The man has had enough media training and has done enough interviews to know what he should and shouldn’t do. I was essentially a spectator. Not that I minded; it only proved that my crush isn’t misplaced. Dev is more than worthy of any and all adoration.
‘Well, that wasn’t as much of a shit show as I thought it would be,’ he announces after closing his laptop. With his arms raised in a stretch, he drops back against the couch cushions.
It’s a challenge to keep myself from inspecting the expanse of skin revealed between the top of his jeans and the hem of his black T-shirt or the lines of his biceps straining against the sleeves. God, he’s gorgeous. And, thankfully, seemingly unaware of my attention.
Unfortunately, Grace notices me noticing Dev, and her wicked expression tells me we’re absolutely going to have a conversation about this once we’re out of here.
‘You did so well,’ I say to him, ignoring Grace as I tuck my notebook and phone back into my purse. I snapped a few pictures of him that I’ve already posted, and I’ve made notes of some of his responses so I can pull clips from the podcast once it’s live. ‘They’ll probably have to edit out my cackles in the background. But that just proves people are going to love it.’
Dev grins back at me, eyes following my every move as I stand and smooth my sundress around my hips. ‘As long as I made you laugh,’ he says, slowly dropping his arms back down. ‘That’s all that matters.’
Grace makes a faint choking sound from across the room, but I refuse to look in her direction.
Dev either doesn’t notice or is choosing to ignore her, too. Though judging from the way he’s staring up at me like I’m the only other person in the room, I’m putting my money on the former.
It’s thrilling and unnerving and has me quickly gathering my things and inventing a fake lunch reservation that Grace and I are in danger of being late to. If I don’t make my escape now, I’m bound to do something silly like crawl into his lap, wrap my arms around his neck and gush about how great he is. His ego doesn’t need that, and I certainly don’t need to encourage the butterflies flitting through my stomach, so I grab Grace by the elbow and wave goodbye before tugging her out of Dev’s apartment.
We make it into the dreaded elevator before she steps in front of me, hands on her hips. ‘Girl,’ she says. And then again, more emphatically. ‘Girl.’
I blow out a breath and slump against the steel wall behind me. I’m going to need the support for this conversation. ‘Yes?’
‘You know he didn’t need help, right?’ She regards me with a hard stare. ‘He just wanted to see you. And make you laugh.’
She’s right, but I’ll never live it down if I admit it. ‘I’m sure that’s not true.’
‘Willow.’ Any traces of humour are gone from her voice. ‘The way that man looked at you when he opened the door? I’ve never seen anyone light up like that.’
Again, she’s right. There’s no point trying to deny it. But saying it out loud means it’s no longer just a fantasy or a simple delusion. Grace has noticed, which means I’m not making it up – and that means my ability to keep from acting on my feelings for Dev is practically gone.
Shit, I’m in big trouble.
‘That’s just how he is,’ I argue weakly. ‘Literally, he’s known for having the world’s best smile.’
‘I’m not talking about his smile. I’m talking about his entire reaction to you. Just the way he—’ She shakes her head, then levels me with a no-nonsense look. ‘I get that you want to keep things professional. And I get that we as women have to tolerate being slapped with ugly names and labels when we get involved with men in positions of power. And I even understand that you don’t want to jeopardize your brother’s friendships. But, Willow, if you let that man slip away . . . then you’re a coward.’
As if to punctuate her words, the elevator shudders to a stop on the ground floor. My world feels like it’s been rocked by an earthquake.
‘Go get what you want,’ Grace finishes. ‘And don’t let yourself regret it.’