Chapter 14
NO MORE PRETENDING
The sun had barely dipped behind the trees when Reese and Delaney followed the winding path through Parco di Monza toward Villa Mirabello.
The Pirelli reception was already underway, with soft music drifting on the warm evening air, the faint clink of glasses, and a low hum of multilingual conversation.
Reese slowed without meaning to, taking it in the way she always did, like she needed a second to recalibrate.
It all felt impossibly elegant for something happening a stone’s throw from the deafening chaos of the racetrack.
Pirelli supplied all the tires for Formula Next and was well respected in the racing world.
With their corporate headquarters in Italy, they rolled out the red carpet for an industry party most wouldn’t forget.
Reese had learned by now that “industry party” was code for breathtaking excess.
The budget could probably bankroll Reese’s living expenses for a year or two. Maybe more, if she were smart about it.
She’d grown up counting things. Hours, dollars, favors.
She still did, out of habit if nothing else.
There was always a moment at events like this when she felt it acutely—the quiet awareness that she hadn’t come from money or connections or a last name anyone recognized.
She’d come from grit and borrowed gear and sleeping on couches, from believing hard enough that talent might eventually tip the scales.
She glanced sideways at Delaney, who was taking in the villa with the same careful fascination, like she was mentally cataloging exits and snack tables all at once.
That helped. Delaney never pretended this world was normal, either.
They were both visitors here, standing at the edge of luxury, belonging and not belonging in equal measure.
And yet. The invitation had her name on it. She’d earned the right to walk this path, to step into this space, even if part of her still expected someone to stop her and ask for proof.
Cassidy and Marissa waited near the entrance, both looking unfairly polished for people who’d spent the afternoon sweating through practice sessions. Cassidy, in a navy jumpsuit that looked tailored to her form, lifted her glass in greeting.
“There she is,” Cassidy announced. “The woman of the hour. The prodigy. The future tire poster child of Italy.”
“Oh, God. Please don’t call me that.” Reese adjusted her black spaghetti strap top.
She’d paired it with black pants and a pair of heels, but she was suddenly aware of how underdressed she felt amid all the glossy fabrics and subtle perfumes.
“I’m probably going to be informed this whole thing is a mistake, and I should pack my bags for home. ”
“Sure,” Marissa said, stepping forward to link arms with her.
She wore a gorgeous red cocktail dress and black heels.
Sexy as hell. Her versatility was really something.
More than a couple of people turned their heads as she passed.
“Keep pretending the entire paddock isn’t whispering about your pole streak. Very cute.”
Reese rolled her eyes, but couldn’t stop the grin that tugged.
The air was warm, scented with garden roses and the faint waft of truffle arancini from a passing server.
Lanterns hung across the courtyard, casting a honey-colored glow over everything, including old stone walls, crisp white linens, and polished shoes moving across centuries-old tile.
“Anyone else surprised they let us in here?” Reese asked, taking in every last impressive detail.
The room was already full, drivers from all levels mingling and sipping expensive wine.
Veronica held court in the corner. Reese scanned the room for Sloane but was disappointed not to spot her. Maybe she wasn’t coming.
“Wow. Look at Sloane,” Cassidy said and grabbed a glass of prosecco from a passing tray. “That dress, though.”
Reese swiveled and went still.
Sloane stood near the far side of the terrace, half-turned toward a small cluster of executives, a champagne flute loose in one hand.
She wore an ice-blue cocktail dress that looked like it had been poured over her rather than sewn.
The color sharpened everything about her, throwing her blond hair into brighter relief and making her blue eyes startlingly vivid.
Her hair was swept back at the nape, a few soft strands loose around her temples, leaving her face open and impossible to ignore.
The neckline on the dress offered a glimpse of the tops of her breasts, round and full, which almost did Reese in.
Quite simply, Sloane devastated. “Yeah, that dress,” Reese murmured, captivated as she watched from across the room.
Sloane was on, but she wasn’t performing. She listened, head tilted slightly, a thoughtful line between her brows that smoothed when she smiled. People leaned toward her without realizing they were doing it.
She laughed at something someone said, low and brief, and Reese felt it land in her chest. She wondered what they were talking about.
This wasn’t paddock-Sloane in team gear, or mentor-Sloane with her arms crossed and her patience worn thin.
This was Sloane, polished and effortless, fully aware of her gravity.
Then Sloane glanced up, her gaze moving across the terrace and finding Reese.
For a suspended heartbeat, the world narrowed to that exchange. The conversation, the music, the clink of glass all faded for Reese. Sloane’s expression shifted, something warmer and sharper flickering through her eyes, and the corner of her mouth curved, just slightly.
Reese forgot to breathe.
“Anything you want to share with the class?” Delaney asked well within earshot of the others. Reese reluctantly pulled her gaze from Sloane and the impact of her beauty to see Delaney smiling expectantly at her.
“What?”
“Can we tell Cassidy and Marissa?”
The other two exchanged a glance that said they had no idea what was going on.
Reese blinked. “Okay. Well, um, in the name of friendship and transparency,” Reese forced her brain to rejoin the group, “I should probably tell you that there was a kiss. A good one.”
“I get the feeling this isn’t new for you,” Cassidy said. “That you kiss a lot of people. But I’m happy for you that this one seemed to resonate.”
“Ask her who she kissed,” Delaney said and tapped her lips. She was definitely ready to dish on this with other people.
“Someone we know? One of the drivers?” Marissa frowned and turned, scanning the crowd. When her gaze fell in Sloane’s direction, she went still. “Surely not with …”
Delaney rocked back on her heels.
Understanding descended like an excited lightning bolt. Marissa whirled back. “Oh my God, it was. You stop that right now.”
“Reese, you and Sloane!” Cassidy said.
“Maybe not so loud,” Delaney cautioned.
“Have such a great working relationship,” Cassidy said, trying to course-correct at triple the volume for anyone who might be listening in.
“What a mentor she is! The grandness of her advice. The knowledge and experience she brings to the table is a gift to us all.” She added an exaggerated sweeping of her arm.
“You’re out of control,” Marissa said calmly.
Cassidy turned to Reese and broke into a huge grin. “But that’s amazing,” she said, quieter this time. “And it makes total sense. The chemistry between the two of you fills the whole room like the sexiest elephant at the zoo.”
Reese frowned. “You might need to tweak your similes.”
Cassidy waved her off. “Translate me. You always do.”
And Reese did, because they were genuinely all good friends now, even though they wanted to wipe the floor clean with each other on race days. “Every day,” Reese said, placing a hand on top of Cassidy’s head.
Cassidy was definitely enjoying this, a new energy having come over her. “There’s this romance novel tension that surely bubbled over until neither of you could stand it.” She wasn’t wrong. A thought seemed to occur. “I have to tell my Aunt Stevie. She lives for this stuff.”
Reese held up a hand. “Aunt Stevie is probably fine. But we keep this to ourselves for now. There’s no academy rule against fraternization. I looked it up. But I think we’d both like to remain discreet.”
“What now?” Marissa asked with a sly smile. “Are you two moving toward a full-fledged relationship? Do you have a girlfriend, Reese Maddox?”
“No,” Reese said automatically. Even she hadn’t thought that far. “I think we’re just enjoying ourselves. Life is short, right?”
Delaney stared at Reese like she wasn’t even close to buying it. “I know what you’re like when you’re only enjoying yourself, and this isn’t it. You’re in this.”
Reese tossed an arm around her teammate’s shoulder. “Then you’re just gonna have to trust me.”
“Mayday. She’s looking this way,” Marissa said. “Oh, and now she’s walking by. Should we wave her over?” Marissa stood taller and adjusted her posture.
“Why are you pushing your boobs out?” Reese asked. “Stop that.”
“These aren’t for Sloane,” Marissa said. “I share them with the room.” She followed up the quip with a playful wink.
“Already protective,” Delaney said with a satisfied raise of her brow.
Reese laughed. “Not at all.”
Cassidy leaned in. “Do you want me to come up with some questions about the car to ask Sloane? It’s a good excuse to get her over here.”
“No. How about I just go say hi like a regular human?” Reese said.
“She has the best moves,” Cassidy murmured, as if taking notes.
Reese ignored her. Or tried to. She finished her prosecco and handed the empty flute to a passing server, like that settled something.
“Be right back,” she said, already stepping away.
She made it three strides before Sloane turned, excusing herself from the small cluster of executives with an apologetic smile. She didn’t rush. She never did. She crossed the terrace with that same unhurried confidence Reese had learned meant she knew exactly where she was going.