Chapter 8 #2
She gently elbowed him in the ribs. “We’re practically dating if you ask the internet. As your fake romantic interest, please
understand that I think you’re handsome. So handsome it boggles the mind.”
He could not stop smiling. And feeling a little embarrassed. He put the framed photo on the bookshelf. “If we’re fake dating,
then I owe it to you to tell you you’re beautiful.” It felt good to say it, not simply think it. If nothing ever happened
between them, at least he got it out of his system. “I thought that from the moment we met.”
Her eyes went impossibly large—he loved seeing the adorable expression of shock on her face, even if he didn’t like that she
was in any way surprised by his appraisal of her beauty. “Yeah. Okay.”
“I’m serious. No double standard. If I have to believe you, you have to believe me.” He reached down and scooped up a few
empty boxes. “I’ll put these in the recycling, then I’m taking you out for dinner. To say thanks for the help.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“You sound hesitant. Do you have plans?”
“No. I’m just remembering you told me when I first arrived that we would not be hanging out.”
Emilio pressed his lips together and nodded. He could see now he’d been so desperate to turn things around, he’d been a bit
severe. “I’m sorry. I was so focused on finding my footing this season. A positive result in Imola helped me see I need to
relax.”
“That’s great.” She smiled. “Where are we going? What should I wear? Do I need to change?”
“You’re perfect as you are.” If only he didn’t mean that so much.
“Are you flirting with me, Emilio?”
He stifled a grin. “You are my fake girlfriend. I think I’m entitled.”
Piper’s entire being was on fire as she dashed upstairs, put on some extra deodorant and grabbed her bag. Emilio being nice?
Calling her his fake girlfriend? Well, she wasn’t about to get carried away with the second, but the first part? She liked
that a lot. Maybe coming to England had been the right call after all.
The only downside of going to the neighborhood pub was they had to leave Gus at home. “He’ll be fine,” Emilio said. “He’ll
sleep.”
Piper nodded as they started down the street. According to Emilio, the pub was only a few blocks away. “I know. I’m just so
attached to him.”
“He does that to people. To pretty much everyone he meets.”
“Exactly why his social media is doing so well. I’m amazed by how quickly word moves through the F1 world. He gets hundreds
of new followers a day without trying at all.”
“If only we all could be adored for simply being ourselves.”
Now, there was a statement she could chew on for a few hundred hours. “Amen to that. I guess that’s the advantage of being
a dog.”
They strolled through Emilio’s charming neighborhood with its brick row houses and shops with apartments overhead. Piper was
finally getting used to London and almost loving it. It was easier on mild, bright days like today. Even now that the sun
was setting, the air still held a familiar warmth. With the fragrance of blooming flowers in the breeze, it even smelled like
summer. She loved this time of year.
“That’s where Tasha lives.” Piper pointed to a quaint house on the other side of the street.
“Tasha?”
“The sassy Pomeranian I told you about. When I explained how I use my dog treats to meet dogs?”
Emilio laughed. “Oh, right. Tasha.”
It was nice to be able to geek out about dogs in front of Emilio and be mostly understood. “Just staying busy.”
“You’ll get no judgment from me. Only admiration.” He pointed up ahead. “There’s the good coffee shop.”
Piper craned her neck. “That place? It’s literally called The Good Coffee Shop. I figured that meant it was horrible.”
“I only said it was good. Not great. I’d say the name is accurate.”
“It’s a bit late for coffee, but I’ll stop by there the next time I take Gus for a morning walk.”
“We need a pint and some solid pub food.” Emilio came to a stop in front of a tavern with arched windows skirted by flower
boxes bursting with red and purple blooms. He hoisted open the hulking wood door. “After you.”
Piper stepped inside, immediately struck by the coziness of the place, with a long wood bar straight ahead and about a dozen
round tables dotting the room and a few cozy booths along the windows overlooking the street. It was on the early side for
dinner—only a little after 6 p.m., but there were at least twenty patrons enjoying a beer and a laugh. A woman with frizzy
brown hair was pulling pints behind the bar. She acknowledged Emilio with a nod.
“I like the corner booth if that’s okay,” Emilio said.
Piper followed his lead and slid into the seat while Emilio took the other side. She’d never been out in public with Emilio
outside of an F1 track, aside from their ill-fated run, but she could see why he would enjoy visiting this place—nobody seemed
to recognize him, and if they did, no one said a thing.
The woman from behind the bar brought over a few menus. “You decided to grace us with your presence, I see.”
“Evie, this is Piper. Piper, this is Evie,” Emilio said.
Evie smiled and nodded. “He’s never brought a girlfriend in ’ere before.”
“Oh, um, I’m not—” Piper gestured at Emilio, then pulled her hand back, rested her elbow on the table and her chin on her
balled-up hand. “His. You know. I’m not. That.”
Evie playfully slugged Piper’s arm. “That’s not what it says in the papers.”
“Evie’s a big F1 fan.”
“All my life. I love that Xander Bishop,” Evie said. “Now, there’s a handsome lad.”
Emilio rolled his eyes. “See? She loves Xander.” He directed his attention to Evie. “I’d come in more often if you were one
of my fans.”
“What can I say? Got a soft spot for my British boys.” She shrugged. “What can I bring you today? A salad like last time?”
He shook his head. “Not today. I’d like fish and chips.” He turned to Evie. “Is there any way they can make me a small order?
It’s so much food and my trainer will kill me.”
“Why don’t we split an order?” Piper suggested. By all accounts, F1 drivers had to watch everything they ate. An extra pound
in the car would only slow them down.
“You sure you want to do that?” he asked.
Piper nodded eagerly. “Yes. Absolutely.”
“And two pints of red ale.” Emilio looked at Piper. “Tomorrow’s my hard training day. I guess I’ll be making it extra hard.”
“I’ll be right back, love.” Evie sidled off.
“Cool place.” Piper sat back, feeling relaxed despite the girlfriend comment. “It reminds me a bit of home.”
“Tell me about that. Home.”
Piper had no reason to be embarrassed, but something about the query made her cheeks flush with heat. Maybe because she was
still getting used to Emilio taking an interest in her and not giving her the cold shoulder. “It’s chill. Very laid-back.
It’s a beach town, so it has that relaxed vibe.”
“And you like it?”
“I love it. It’s so beautiful. Having the ocean nearby. Blue skies. Lots of sunshine. And my family, of course. I can’t imagine
living anywhere else, to be honest.”
Emilio nodded slowly, then Evie brought over their beers. “Food will be right up.”
“What about you? You grew up in Spain, so you must be looking forward to the Grand Prix there. Do both of your parents come?”
He laughed and took a sip of his beer. “Absolutely not. In fact, they’re not supposed to come to the same races. My mom gets
Spain this year. My dad gets it next year. And I am looking forward to it. Very much.” He looked at her in a quizzical way
that made her feel vulnerable. “Which reminds me, we need to talk about travel plans.”
“Okay.”
“My grandmother always asks me to visit her before the race. She never comes to the track. It makes her too nervous. Would
you have any interest in coming with me and Gus to stay with her? It would just be for a night, and she has plenty of space.
You’d have your own room, of course. It would be nice. She’d get to see Gus. She hasn’t seen him since last year, and he was
a puppy. She loves dogs, but she really loves him.”
Piper was taken aback by the invitation, partly because this came so close on the heels of the dinner invite. She liked it.
She could get used to him being a bit more relaxed and way more friendly. “Your grandmother and I might be soul mates.”
Evie arrived with their food and slid it onto the table, along with a bottle of malt vinegar. “Let me know if you need another
round.”
“Thank you,” Emilio answered, then returned his gaze to Piper. His eyes turned a shade darker, sending her heart racing. “Is
that a yes?”
How else could she possibly answer? “I’d love to. It’ll be an honor.” She popped a French fry into her mouth to make it seem
like it was no big deal, but it felt like a very big deal.
Emilio was allowing her into his life.
His warm eyes seemed to smile. “Perfect. I’ll make arrangements. We’ll leave Wednesday morning.”
They tucked into their food, and although Evie had brought small plates for them each to use, it felt almost intimate to share
an entrée. Like she and Emilio had been friends for years. The fish was light and flaky and a little sweet, while the fries—or
chips, as she’d been corrected—were crisp and salty. They chatted about Gus, visiting Emilio’s grandmother in Spain and Piper’s
remaining races. There were only two. Just as quickly as it had started, it was going to end. They’d agreed this first five
weeks would be a trial period, and it seemed like it was going great, but if she had to endure the one-sided sexual tension
of being around Emilio all the time, she would be better off returning to her normal life. Plus, she couldn’t deny she missed
her family.
They finished as much of the generous portion as they could, declined a second round of beers and Emilio paid the check, then
they headed home. As they strolled along the quiet sidewalks and the last strains of day faded into darkness, Emilio’s hand
brushed Piper’s. Unfortunately, her reflex was to jump.
“Oh. Sorry.” He glanced over at her.