40. Nevaeh
“Ifeel bad. They shouldn’t have to do this all by themselves,” I say, but Val doesn’t stop. She leads me all the way to her baby blue Mustang, a classic car I’ve only ever seen in photos. “Holy fuck. Do you mind if I…” I trail off and lift my camera, aiming it at her car.
“Go for it, love,” she replies, and I take a few photos before we both get into her car.
My phone rings a moment later, Ms. Martin’s name flashing on my screen. Twice in twenty-four hours. That can’t be a good sign.
“Hello, Nevaeh. I’m sorry to disturb you, but I’ve just received a very exciting email. I have a job for you if you’re feeling up for it,” she says, and relief and excitement course through me.
“Yes, of course. What’s the job?” I ask, holding my phone away from my mouth to apologize to Val, but she waves my apology away and smiles.
“There is a charity event happening in Monte Carlo tomorrow. The press officer of Formula One reached out and asked us to do an exclusive. More specifically, they asked for you,” she says, and my chest almost bursts from pride.
All the years I spent studying, writing, and interning, are all paying off now as I’m making a name for myself in the world of Formula One. I never thought this sport would be how the world would get to know me, but I can’t lie.
It’s exciting.
“You’d go around the room, ask the drivers some questions, and enjoy yourself. How does that sound?” Ms. Martin asks, and I start grinning from ear to ear.
“Sounds great. What exactly do you want me to ask them and put into the article?” I ask, trying to contain my excitement.
Val parks the car as my boss tells me more details for tomorrow, and we hang up a couple of minutes later. My friend smiles at me as I share what just happened, leading me down a row of little antique shops at the same time.
We arrive at one called Rush.
It looks newer than the rest of the buildings we walked past and yet strangely old, too. It’s absolutely charming.
“She remodeled it recently, expanded from one floor to two,” Val explains, and I raise both my brows. “Evangelin is the owner and a dear friend of mine. Her husband, Carlos Klein, bought it for her after he won his first championship,” she says and opens the door while I pick up my jaw off the floor.
Carlos Klein is a legend in Formula One. Papa has spoken about him many times. Never in my entire life did I expect to meet someone as close to him as his wife.
I manage to move my feet to follow Val inside. A tiny woman with long, white hair comes up to us, greeting Val with a hug and me with a warm smile.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I croak out in the best French I can muster. Evangelin holds out her hand, and I give it a gentle shake.
“We can speak in English, dear, don’t worry,” she says, and I barely hold back a sigh. “Feel free to call me when you need something,” she adds as I study her shop.
Casual clothes sit on the racks that are neatly distributed downstairs, so Val leads me upstairs with her instead.
“What are we looking for?” she asks while I move to one of the racks on the far right.
A sleeveless silk dark-orange dress with a slightly low v-neck, a slit up the thigh, and lace around the breast area catches my attention. I run my hands over the fabric, falling in love with the soft feel of it.
“Try it on,” Val says and pulls me out of my thoughts.
“I could never. My shoulders are too broad. It won’t look good,” I reply and walk past it, my heart staying with it as I browse through more options that will hide my scar and shoulders.
“Can I ask you something?” Val’s voice reveals how unsure she is about whatever she wants to know. I nod, my eyes and attention on her. “Do you not notice the way people fall at your feet no matter what you wear?”
A nervous chuckle escapes me, but she shakes her head, giving me a serious frown.
“I mean it. You put on that dress, and I promise you, you’ll knock the breath out of everyone, especially my brother.”
This makes a blush and a smile settle on my face.
The thought of Adrian drooling over my body does give the dress an advantage I can’t deny.
“Where are the dressing rooms?”