CHAPTER SEVEN CLARKE
Chapter Seven
Clarke
Clarke sat in one of the leather chairs in Athos’s office at Elegante Racing headquarters.
He felt like he was two years old and was about to be given a time-out.
Athos held up his hand. “Let me make sure I’ve got this right.
We go to the Huntingtons’ party and happen to see Ceci Rivers.
You are so put off when Porthos suggests you’re afraid of the woman that you make a bet just to prove you aren’t, and you subsequently lose that bet, which only proves Porthos’s point. ”
“No, it doesn’t,” Clarke insisted.
Athos waved his hand. “In losing the bet, you must attend a charity auction, and once there you not only receive a black eye from the woman herself but put yourself in the position of having to go out with her on a date.”
“I did not put myself in that position. I didn’t make her bid.”
“Why don’t you just scrap the whole thing? Just write them a big check and be done with it.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. She’ll be relieved. I’m sure she’s not looking forward to the date any more than you are.”
Probably even less than I am. If that’s possible.
“I said I would do it. I gave my word.”
“And you always do what you say you’re going to do?”
Clarke shot him a look. “Pot, meet kettle.”
Clarke didn’t know any man more honorable than Athos.
Nodding, Athos sighed. “Okay, fair enough. It’s actually one of your better traits.”
“I’m pretty sure Roxanne made her bid on me.” Clarke paused. “I really don’t understand that woman.”
“Roxanne?”
“No, Ceci Rivers. A man insults her. I take offense and demand he apologize. And she turns on me.”
Athos crossed his arms. “I can understand that.”
“You can?”
“Dude, he was a dick. Anything that guy thought or said didn’t matter. Why would it? But when you took such offense to it, it’s as if you gave what he said some kind of credibility.”
Clarke shook his head in disbelief. If there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that Ceci Rivers didn’t give a damn what he thought.
Athos grinned. “If it weren’t for Silverstone, I think I’d like to meet this girl. The guy takes a swing at you, and she steps in like a gallant knight to protect you.”
“What? It was the other way around. I was protecting her. She was about to put herself at risk, I stepped in and took the hit.”
“Aren’t Formula 1 drivers supposed to have fast reflexes?”
Glaring, Clarke gave his brother the finger.
Athos chuckled. “Interesting girl. She’s …”
“Offensive? Obnoxious?”
“I was going to say fearless.”
You mean like I used to be.
His brother chuckled. “So, she knocked you out and then kissed you.”
Clarke groaned. “Supposedly to revive me.”
Athos grinned. “She played Prince Charming to your Sleeping Beauty.”
Clarke scowled, thinking of it. Him, lying on the floor in the men’s room; some poor, defenseless loser and her having fun with it. When he’d finally regained full control of his senses, he saw that impish grin on her face.
“You know if I had done the same thing, she would have bitched about the fact that she didn’t consent to my kissing her. And she’d be right to. So how’s it any different?”
“Fair point. Did you feel violated? Were you repulsed? Did you want to wash your mouth out?”
Clarke folded his arms across his chest. No.
In fact, the experience had been singular.
Coming out from behind the darkness, feeling her lips, and her breath like the breath of life, his body vibrating as that breath reached from his core to the ends of every limb.
Those blonde curls caressing his cheeks.
He’d actually thought it was an angel. He’d had to reach out, take hold of her shoulders, as well as that kiss, to convince himself it was real.
“I gather from the look on your face the answer is no.”
“Whether it is or not is beside the point.”
Athos nodded. “Fair enough. You can raise the issue with her on your date.”
Not. Going. To. Fucking. Happen.
“At least there’s been no mention of it being her who gave you the black eye in the press or on social media.”
Roxanne was milking the story for all it was worth.
Speculation about the upcoming date was spreading like wildfire.
And according to Roxanne, that was a good thing.
Right now, he was the one and only trending Formula 1 driver.
That hadn’t happened in a long while. What’s more, the comments were by and large positive.
“Maybe it wasn’t Roxanne that got her to bid.” Athos grinned, a glint in his eye. “Maybe it was the jungle cat, the raging lion.”
“What?”
“You haven’t seen the article? I’m surprised Roxanne didn’t send you a link.”
“She’s sent me all sorts of links. I’ve been ignoring them.”
Athos sat down at his desk and typed on the computer. “I have it here.”
“You are not reading me the article. I don’t want to hear it.”
“Here it is. ‘With that fiery look in his eyes, his fists clenched and his body radiating the hot rage of a lion’ …”
Athos raised his eyebrows.
Clarke waved his hand. “Okay, go on,” he said, curious now to hear the rest.
Athos chuckled as he turned back to the screen. “Let’s see, where was I?”
“His body radiating the hot rage of a lion,” Clarke said.
Athos grinned. “Right. Here … ‘This man couldn’t be the normally placid, genteel gentleman who has all the animal magnetism of a’”—Athos waved his hand—“Skip that part. ‘The surprise of seeing Sir Clarke resembling something like a jungle cat was then trumped by the surprise that it should be none other than Ceci Rivers, hardly a fan, who bid on him.’” Athos paused and peered at Clarke.
“Are you worried she’ll be disappointed when instead of that jungle cat showing up, she gets the placid gentleman? ”
“Very funny.”
“What about the logistics of the date?”
“I could wait until the start of the season. Then both of us would be in the same city. But that’s over a month from now. I don’t want this hanging over me when my focus should be on racing. So that leaves either New York or some godforsaken place called Cornhole Junction.”
Athos laughed. “You’re joking.”
“I wish I were. Some small town in Montana.”
“Well, you’re not going to go all the way out there.”
“Either way, it’s a plane ride. And the sooner I get this over with, the better.”
Athos tapped his fingers on his desk. “Actually, now that I think about it, going to Montana might be better. If you take her out in New York, the press will be all over you. Not to mention everyone with their cell phones. But out in this rinky-dink town, you could keep the date on the down-low. What the hell is there to do in Cornhole?”
“You’re asking me?”
Athos was back at his computer. “Okay, let’s take a look.”
Clarke just wanted to be over and done with Ceci Rivers. He would focus on creating buzz on the track rather than off it.
“This looks promising,” exclaimed Athos. “Hey, I just thought of something. What about accommodations?”
“Accommodations? No, no, no. I’ll be in and out of there like a tornado.”
“Tornado?”
“You’re right, bad metaphor. More like a blip. Leaving no impact, whatsoever.”
“You know they’ve got snowstorms out there that can close down airports.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll touch down in the morning and fly out that evening.” He sighed. “But I’m still going to need protection.”
Athos’s mouth dropped open. “Protection?”
“Trust me, she’ll be looking to bring some too. I better be sure to pick her up in a vehicle with a back seat.”
“Wait, back up a minute. Are we talking about the same thing?”
“I could see her bringing a guy to act as wingman, maybe even two.”
“Oh, you mean a buffer.”
“Yeah, a buffer. What did you think I meant?”
Athos sighed, looking pensively out the window. “I think it safe to say Ceci Rivers can expect the placid gentleman rather than the jungle cat or raging lion.”