Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
ROME
I hate meetings.
It takes every ounce of energy I have not to let my head fall back for a quick nap. I used up the majority of my energy already, spending an hour in the gym, training, and then not losing my temper when it came to Ellis purposefully giving me a hard time.
I’m not sure what I expected.
Of course no one trusts me at Vanstone—no one other than Vince, but he’s not here. Instead, it’s the Halston clan, and they aren’t exactly shy with their loathing.
They have nothing on my father, though, so if anything, their scathing glares are entertaining. Particularly Tessa. She may hate me even more than Beck.
Why does that give me pure satisfaction?
I stare at her from across the conference table. She’s pulled her long, chestnut hair up into a bun held together with a pen, showing off her slender neck and heart-shaped face. Her eyebrows pull together as she stares at something on the other woman’s phone–Tia? Clea? I forgot her name.
I glance at my watch.
My skin itches to get out of this stuffy room and into the simulator.
It’s been far too long since I’ve gotten any practice, and the first Grand Prix is right around the corner.
“Are you logged into social media on your phone?”
I glance at another woman, who’s been typing furiously on a laptop, and nod.
“Can we see it?”
Only if it speeds this meeting up.
I lift my hip and pull my phone out of my pocket. Tessa leans across the glass conference table, and out of pure instinct, I drop my gaze to her cleavage.
Her breasts are annoyingly perky.
I sigh and drop the device into her hand but not without skimming my finger against her wrist for fun.
She jerks her arm away with a blush creeping over her cheeks.
My palm tingles, and I lean backward in my chair to watch Tessa scan the contents of my social media accounts. She and Mia? huddle together, their faces side by side, to drink in everything on my profile.
Tessa snorts angrily and shoves the phone away.
I raise a brow. “Something wrong?”
She rolls those big, brown eyes in my direction. “Do these women really think they stand a chance, dropping into your DMs like this?”
For the record, they don’t stand a chance, but letting on that their messages annoy me would mean that Tessa and I actually agree on something, and it’s much too soon in our platonic relationship for that.
I kick my arrogance up a notch and shrug. “Can you blame them for trying?”
She rolls her eyes again, which only amuses me.
The other woman, Leah? blows air out of her puffed cheeks. “I don’t think anyone blames them.”
“Gia!” Tessa shrieks.
Oh. Gia.
A vibrating noise comes from my phone.
Everyone looks at it.
Tessa clears her throat.
When all I get is silence, I finally ask, “Well? Who is it?”
She slowly hands me the device, a glare fixed on her features. I look at the screen, and my shoulders tense.
Dad is calling.
Fuck.
“Answer it.”
I snap my attention to Tessa.
My phone stops vibrating, only for it to pick up again a moment later.
He knows.
Either that, or he’s ready to chew me out for being late this morning.
I’ve got news for him, though–I won’t be showing up at all.
I hit decline and keep my expression void of emotions. Tessa tries her hardest to read me, her quick scan moving across my face.
We both look at my phone with another incoming call.
Beau is calling.
My chest tightens.
“Are we finished here?” I ask, voice edgy.
Gia clears her throat. “Yes. We’ll send over the contract for permission to take over your social media account within the next few hours.”
“Great.” I hastily push my chair out with a good grip on my phone and head through the door.
I pull open the search engine, and I don’t even manage to type my full name before an article pops up on GRID, one of the biggest news sources for Formula One: Rome Pierce leaves Pierce Racing and heads for rival team.
A wave of nausea hits my stomach.
I’m a grown-ass man, yet the fear of disappointing my father, instilled in me at a very young age, is too engraved in me to erase.
A cold sweat breaks out along my skin. I press my sweaty forehead to the wall and practice the breathing techniques I learned over the last few months.
I imagine my father is throwing shit in his office right now, with Beau taking the brunt of his anger. Not that I care much for my stepbrother. He’s a prick—and a shitty driver too. He’s also a mama’s boy. In other terms, that means he’s a fucking pussy.
My phone vibrates, interrupting my breathing.
Beau is calling.
This time, I don’t ignore it. I press answer and put it up to my ear.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” he roars, not even bothering with a hello. “Did that wreck fuck your head up too? Because last I heard, it was just the flesh on your leg that was damaged."
The faded scar on my shin burns, like it has the ability to hear the insult.
“My head is perfectly fine.” I remain calm. Though, from the way my ears burn, I know my blood pressure has risen.
“Then what the hell are you doing? Are you that bored that you want to cause a fucking uproar within the Pierce household? Talk about taking things too far, Rome.” He scoffs loudly. “Your dad has every person imaginable trying to get those articles taken down.”
My thoughts race. If he’s trying to take care of the articles, that means he thinks this is a rumor.
“Where are you?” Beau asks.
I exhale deeply. “In Las Vegas.”
There’s silence on the other end of the phone.
I nod at one of Vanstone’s many employees as they walk past. I wait until they’re out of earshot to confirm the news. “I quit Pierce Racing.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I did.”
He laughs, the menacing noise making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “You’re fucking with me.”
I’m done arguing with him.
“If that’s what you want to believe, then I can’t stop you.”
There’s more silence, and I imagine him in his office with his feet kicked up on his desk.
“If that’s all…” I say. “I’ve gotta get to work.”
The creaking of his chair catches my attention, and I know I’m right in assuming he’s in his private office, away from the chaos likely ensuing down the hall.
“You just couldn’t handle it, could you?”
I make my way to the elevator. “Handle what?”
Risking my life even more than usual every single time I rev the engine, obeying a man’s ruling who would do anything to win? Like bend the rules and cheat his way to the top?
“You just couldn’t handle that I was in the spotlight for once, instead of you.”
I laugh, unable to stop it before it slips out. “Sure, Beau. That’s exactly the reason I quit and came to Vanstone.”
I know my stepbrother well enough to know he doesn’t catch the sarcasm from my tone, and by the look of Tessa’s face at the other end of the hallway as she eavesdrops on my call, she doesn’t either. But neither one of them are privy to the real reason.
One assumes I’m here to take over and run Vanstone into the ground, and the other assumes I’m just an attention-seeking asshole with a desire to cause a ruckus.
Turns out, they’re both wrong.