Chapter 30
We satat a diner in Avalon, waiting for Rocco to arrive. I’d decided that it was probably best if we all talked, without our boss or his lawyers being present. There were wrinkles that needed to be ironed out, ground rules that needed to be laid down to keep everyone comfortable.
I rubbed my temples. Jesus Christ, if you’d told me eight months ago that I’d be negotiating a marriage contract with Rocco Passero, along with my two other boyfriends, I would have laughed in your face.
Jesse held Bobbi-June in the crook of his arm, and it was insane to see how much she’d grown already. Every morning, I woke up and looked at her, thinking she’d gotten somehow bigger while I was sleeping. However, she still fit perfectly in his long arms, head pillowed against his bicep.
“I’m going to stress-eat my weight in pancakes,” I grumbled at the guys.
The bell over the door jingled, and I looked up to see an incognito Rocco appear. Honestly, he probably didn’t need to worry too much. He was a huge name in Europe, but most people here didn’t follow Formula One. Or if they did, they weren’t expecting to see one of the best drivers of the twenty-first century here in some dingy little diner. But the Clark Kent effect definitely worked, because no one even raised an eyebrow.
Okay, that was a lie. One grandma definitely checked out his ass.
He shook hands with Hayes and Jesse in that manly way guys do, like it was some kind of display of strength. However, I was surprised when he leaned in and kissed both of my cheeks. I flushed, hoping the guys would just write it off as embarrassment.
“It is good to see you,” he said to none of us in particular. “Best thing about being out this season is the food. Is it too early for a burger and fries?”
The guys just continued to glare, so I shook my head. “It’s never too early for a burger. Thanks for coming, by the way.”
He shrugged. “Well, theoretically, you might be my wife soon. It’s probably best that we get started on the one big happy family thing, right?”
Jesse shook his head. “Why would you even agree to this? There must be a hundred women who’d happily marry you. And that’s just in a five-mile radius of this diner. What do you actually get out of this arrangement?”
Rocco was prevented from answering by the waitress. She was in her fifties and looked done with her shift already. “Ready to order?”
I nodded. “I’ll have the egg white omelet and a Diet Sprite.”
Hayes looked at me. “What happened to the pancakes?”
I poked my stomach, which still hadn’t snapped back, though it wasn’t as bad as I’d imagined it would be. “I have to get back to race weight.”
He frowned, but nodded. Being a driver was a subtle balance between being strong enough to withstand the tough racing conditions, and being light enough that your added weight didn’t slow down the car. It wasn’t such a big problem in stock car racing, but in open-wheel racing, where everything was measured down to the gram? A stack of pancakes could be the difference between winning or losing.
Sure, I wasn’t racing anytime soon, but I wanted to get the best out of the car, so they knew what it was truly capable of.
Hayes ordered a trucker’s breakfast, and Jesse ordered the pancakes. “We can share,” he said, winking at me. I mean, I wasn’t going to turn down pancakes, and if I didn’t order them myself, they were basically calorie free. Those were the rules.
Rocco looked up with a smile that seemed to stun the waitress, her eyes widening and her jaw going a little slack. “I will have the burger, rare please, with extra home fries.”
The waitress—Patty, according to her name badge—blinked several times and mumbled about it coming right up before scurrying away.
This was such a bad idea. The guy was a hopeless flirt. I was going to be a laughingstock. But at least I’d be a giant joke who still had custody of her own child.
Rocco turned back toward Jesse. “To answer your question, you are correct. I could propose to almost any woman, and if my reputation didn’t sway them, my bank balance would. Which is precisely why I think marrying Tally would be for the best. We are using each other, and there’s a nobility in that. Besides, I know she isn’t in it for my money. She’s made it very clear she doesn’t care about my reputation.” He raised a brow at me, though it wasn’t strictly true. I’d fangirled just as much as anyone else when I’d first learned Rocco Passero was coming to drive for the team.
“Plus, we have a lot in common. So if I have to tie myself to someone for three years, it is probably best that we have shared interests, otherwise it would make for some terrible dinner conversation.” He laughed at his own joke, before turning serious again. “And a little bit of it is old-fashioned chivalry. Tally is in a situation that I could make go away, and it makes me feel good to do it.”
Hayes stared at him. “They’re the only reasons? Shared interests, convenience and chivalry? It’s not because you feel any desire toward Tally?” He dropped his voice. “Tally won’t be coerced into something to show gratitude. I think you both should agree to keeping the relationship platonic.”
I raised my eyebrows. That was some serious audacity. Part of me understood that he wanted some reassurance that I wasn’t about to turf him out for a hot rich guy. However, the feminist part of me wanted to dick-punch him for believing he could just make sweeping statements like that.
Rocco chuckled. “I promise not to make any moves on your girl, unless she expressly, vigorously asks me for it.”
They were all looking at me now, and I could feel the pink heat on my cheeks, so I was probably as red as a beet. Well, this is awkward.
I cleared my throat. “I, uh, I’m happy for you to see other people to meet your needs on the side, if you have to. Just keep it discreet, I guess?”
He gave me a long stare. “I was raised Roman Catholic. The sanctity of marriage and all that. Well, up until we get a divorce. I just won’t tell my family about that one.”
I gave him the side-eye. “So what, you’re going to be a monk for three years?”
He screwed up his nose. “No. I’ll possibly get escorts. Prostitutes don’t count—at least, not in my family.”
Ugh.I hated the thought. Although, considering I was going to be fucking two other guys right there under his roof, I didn’t really have a high horse to climb on. Instead, I nodded, like I didn’t give a crap. “Okay. Sounds good.”
Just then, the waitress returned with our food. She eyeballed Jesse with the baby against his chest, and the way Hayes had his arm over my shoulders. It was clear she couldn’t quite figure it out, but it was none of her business.
“So, what next?” I asked the table, but no one really answered. Clearly, we were all just winging this and hoping for the best.
Although I’d been exaggerating when I told the guys that it would take twenty minutes to get married, it turned out I wasn’t far off. The day after the diner, I signed a bunch of paperwork from Rocco’s lawyers in a small conference room at the courthouse. Luckily, Antony had sent VANT’s lawyers to ensure I wasn’t about to sign over a vital organ or my first-born.
It was basically what you’d expect from a prenuptial agreement, except there was a clause that gave me a ten-million-dollar settlement, should we divorce, as well as another five million in a trust for Bobbi-June, which would go into effect as soon as we married.
I stared at the clause, then over at the enigmatic driver, who seemed to be lost in his own thoughts on the other side of the table. “Rocco?” I murmured quietly, and his dark eyes snapped to mine.
“Yes, Stellina?”
“That’s a lot of money.”
He rolled his eyes. “Merely a token, should we go our separate ways. It would look bad if I left you with nothing.”
That seemed like a rather drastic guilt gift. I looked at my borrowed lawyer, who was giving me the professional version of the are you stupid, take the money look. “It’s a generous offer, Miss Palmer.”
So I grabbed the pen Rocco’s lawyer held out, and signed on the dotted line. Then the lawyer handed me a marriage license, and I filled out the relevant parts.
Everything that was written about Rocco on that form was published on the internet, from his middle name to his birthday. Hell, I’d even seen pictures of his parents in the tabloids, as well as his brothers, who were also in the Formula One world, though not as drivers. They were good looking too, but he was definitely the most handsome of the four.
Rocco quickly signed his sections and handed them over to my lawyer. One of his lawyers lodged the application online, and then we were basically married, except for the officiant ceremony. I looked at my watch. Our appointment to stand before a judge was in ten minutes, and that would be it. I would be Tally Palmer-Passero.
The guys were waiting on hard plastic chairs outside the room, with Bobbi-June asleep in her carrier. They looked solemn, like I was walking to my execution, not to get married.
I gave them what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “Relax, guys.”
Jesse gave me a sympathetic expression, while Hayes lifted his chin toward the other side of the corridor, where Willy and Colin stood.
Whoops.
I’d known they were going to be pissed. I’d intended to tell them, really. I hadn’t been keeping it a secret on purpose; it was just everything had been moving so fast.
“Well, this isn’t what it looks like,” I said lightly, but it didn’t make anyone laugh. Eesh, big trouble.
Rocco cleared his throat, and I hurried to fill the silence. “Rocco, this is my best friend Will, and his partner Colin. Uh, guys, this is my fiancé—and I guess in like, eight minutes, my husband—Rocco Passero.”
Willy just raised a single eyebrow, like he always did when he thought I was doing something stupid, but not dangerous. Like, when I was twelve, holding a kitten I’d bought for ten bucks from Johnny Lipitski, and trying to get him to help me convince my parents I’d found it on the side of the road. He’d known it was a dumb idea that’d end in heartache when my parents made me get rid of it, but he’d backed me up anyway, even if he thought I was being an idiot.
Colin, bless him, stepped forward and shook Rocco’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Rocco.” His eyes bounced between the handsome Italian and the guys still sitting across from us, unanswered questions filling the hall.
“Palmer-Passero?” someone called from the end of the corridor, and I swallowed down the lump of trepidation that was threatening to choke me. This was the right decision. It was the best way to ensure I could keep my baby, and give her safety and security for a long time.
So I gave Willy one last imploring look and turned toward the attendant who was calling our party. We all walked single file into a small room with folding chairs and a judge in a black robe.
Willy grabbed my hand, turning me softly. “You’re sure?” I nodded quietly. Letting out a heavy sigh, he kissed my forehead. “You look beautiful.”
I’d found a white dress in a boutique on the way there, a simple sheath with white lace sleeves. Jesse and Hayes had helped me pick it out, a small contribution to a big decision. Jesse had paid for it, merely kissing me softly and telling me that if I was going to be a bride, I was going to do it properly.
“Thanks, Willy.” He kissed the top of my head and went to sit beside Colin, who had somehow taken possession of Bobbi-June and was blowing raspberries on her cheeks and whispering to her. The lawyers also sat down in the room, and I gave a tremulous smile to my guys.
“Hello, folks. My name is Judge Jovianni. Let’s get you two hitched, shall we?”
Forty-seven minutes after entering the courthouse, I emerged onto the steps as Mrs. Rocco Passero.
Sixteen-year-old me would have been losing her shit right about now.