Chapter Nineteen
Asher
“Back the fuck off.” I glare at Elio, whose eyes are firmly pasted on Victoria’s ass as she trots up the staircase and disappears into the depths of the plane. Only when she’s out of sight does he give me a bored look.
“Or what?”
“Or you’re going to have a little accident that prevents you from driving on Sunday.” I bare my teeth at him. “Something like going skydiving off our plane. Without the parachute.”
Elio’s brows furrow as he examines me. Then, a lazy, knowing grin spreads on his smug face. I have never come this close to actually committing an act of public violence in years.
“You have it bad for her,” he says. “That’s…
very interesting.” His eyes narrow. He might be affecting an air of vague curiosity, but I know he’ll only use what he learns against me.
I’d bet that’s the whole reason he’s been hanging around Victoria in the first place.
“Is she the reason you didn’t drive like complete shit in the sim? ”
“No,” I snap.
“If you say so.” Elio considers me for several beats. Then, he smiles, but it’s not a kind gesture. More like a I know your secret. “Enjoy the flight, Lawrence.”
“Stay away from my intern, Santori.”
He doesn’t respond. My hands curl into fists.
I have no reasonable basis for wanting to kill him over checking out the intern. She made it abundantly clear her interest in me was nonexistent when she refused to tell me she was out with her brother when I saw her in the restaurant.
Still. She’s on my car. She’s spent the last two weeks working with me. Elio can go fuck himself. If I can’t have her, I’ll make it this season’s mission to make sure no one else on the team can.
After all, she will have a lot of work to be doing if I’m going to get on the podium—and I intend to do just that, no matter what it takes.
“This is a partially-complete model, and it’s not as versatile as the complete version will be.” We’re 30,000 feet in the air, and instead of making a foray into the mile-high club like I’d prefer to, I’m pretending to be interested in Victoria’s algorithm.
I should be interested in it; it could get me to a podium.
But, instead, all I can focus on is her.
Her intoxicating scent of crisp apples and honeysuckle.
The slight smattering of freckles along the bridge of her nose.
The way her eyelashes fan her cheeks every time she blinks.
The slight uptilt of her lips as she talks about something she enjoys.
“I input numbers here, here, and here to feed the model what it needs.” She points her finger at a bunch of spots in a sea of random numbers and letters, as if I can follow along with this techy bullshit.
“Then, the other tab shows me projected outcomes. I round them as well as I can. I think if I can hook up my model to the data analysis team’s live telemetry feed, it should be able to give me live projections—but they’ll be incomplete.
” She releases a huff of frustration, and even that’s hot.
“They’ll look like white noise to anyone who isn’t me. ”
“Good way to protect it,” I offer dumbly. “If nobody else can use it, I mean. Otherwise the team will get their hands on it.”
She taps her lips. “Yeah, I haven’t thought about that too much.
For now I’m encrypting the outputs and restricting access so that even though the model pulls from the team’s data, nobody can see what it’s producing or how it works.
When it’s ready, I’ll ask my friend about how I should license it. She’s a lawyer.”
I think for a moment. “Is this the friend who you think I’d get along with?”
Victoria nods. “Yeah, Delilah is proudly an ice queen. And scary smart. I want to get her out to a race later this season.” Her expression falls. “I won’t be able to see my friends or family much until the season’s over. I miss them.” Something troubled that I don’t like crosses her expression.
“You get used to it,” I say with a shrug. “The constant travel. The distance. The jetlag. It all becomes part of the process.”
She tears her gaze away from the screen to examine me. “Did you get used to it?”
“I was fucking thrilled by it at first,” I admit.
“The luxury, the travel. Being able to say I visit dozens of countries a year. As I’ve grown, it’s started taking a toll.
” My gaze strays to her lips. We’re sitting right next to each other, with only a flimsy armrest separating us.
What would happen if I just closed the distance and—
No. Besides it being a complication neither of us need, she’s made it clear she’s not interested—and I’m not the type of guy to chase women.
“Is it the travel taking a toll or your dwindling love for F1?”
“Both,” I confess.
She nudges my arm with her own. Bona-fide electricity shoots through my skin at the point where we have contact, and my blood rushes from my brain to my dick.
Shit, not now. She’ll notice, and that opens me up to a sexual harassment suit—
Except, she looks like she felt it, as well. Her gaze widens, and she releases a small gasp.
She clears her throat, pointedly shifts a bit farther away from me, and offers me a shaky smile. “Well. Maybe you can find your love for F1 again.”
I sure as fuck hope so. And something deep inside me says that Victoria just might be my way to rediscovering what made me fall for F1 in the first place.