Chapter Six
THE DRIVER PULLED into the parking area close to the entrance for VIP passes and pulled to a stop, letting the car idle.
Millie gathered her possessions along with her thoughts and prepared to exit the car.
Three-quarters of a million pounds? Had she heard him correctly?
Just for acting as his girlfriend? That was…
Madness. He was joking…right?
Instead of climbing out of his side of the vehicle, which was on the right side of the entrance, Taz followed her out of her door, took her laptop bag out of her hand and slung it over his shoulder. She heard the roar of the fans gathered outside as they recognised Taz.
Millie looked over to the crowds and the waiting press, cameras in hand. She tipped her head in their direction. ‘You’ve got fans watching you and cameras pointed your way. Try to smile.’
She wanted to discuss his wild offer, but there were too many ears around, too many eyes on them. When she was next alone with him, she’d sit and explain why she couldn’t do it, why that wasn’t possible.
There were seven hundred and fifty thousand reasons why it could be possible. The money aside—she could donate it to the trust she’d set up in Ben’s name—why wasn’t it possible? And why did the voice asking sound like Ben?
You crashed out of my life. You don’t have an opinion anymore, she crossly told him.
You keep saying you want to figure out who you are, where you fit…
I don’t fit in, Ben.
Millie scrunched up her nose and shuffled on her feet.
That was what she told herself when Ben invited her to join him at Monaco or Silverstone.
Not fitting in and knowing how to handle their rich world was also how her parents justified leaving her alone when they jetted off on holidays to places like Monte Carlo and Ibiza, Jamaica and Rio.
That was then, this is now. How do you know if you don’t fit if you don’t try?
What if I embarrass him?
Dead Ben actually scoffed. Taz isn’t easily embarrassed, and do you think he’d ask you if that was a concern? When it comes to women, Taz is a picky bastard.
And yes, her ego just doubled at the idea of playing Taz’s girlfriend.
Millie placed a hand on her jittery stomach and reminded herself of what was important.
She was trying to figure out who she was and where she was going, how she was going to navigate the rest of her life, but she wouldn’t be able to do that standing on the sidelines.
Taz was offering her a way to step into Ben’s world, her parents’ world.
Of all the ways she imagined coming to terms with her past, with Ben’s death, with her parents and her lack of confidence, she never thought she’d be acting as Taz’s girlfriend when she did it.
Her parents had practiced smiles and knew how to stand, when to answer press questions and when to appear mysterious.
Taz played by a different set of rules, mostly because he was rich and powerful enough to make them up as he went along.
But she was just an ordinary woman living an ordinary life; she wasn’t rich, famous, important or charismatic.
She far preferred to stay away from the lenses of any cameras, to live a quiet life.
If she took Taz up on his offer, she’d be thrust into the spotlight and would have the eyes of the world on her.
She was, as she’d been told a million times, not cut out to stand in the limelight.
She wasn’t even sure she was cut out to do PR.
Sometimes her insecurities, fed by a lifetime of her parents’ criticism, threatened to overwhelm her.
Also, accepting his offer was tantamount to inviting her family back into her life.
They would barrel back in, blithely ignoring the past and their inattention and neglect.
They’d insert themselves into her life, playing at being one big happy family, all the while desperately hoping her relationship with Taz would raise their own public profile. Her parents were publicity parasites.
No, she couldn’t risk that happening…
Millie frowned, annoyed by her reaction.
Why was she allowing her parents to influence her decision?
Wasn’t she trying to break that habit? Taz was offering her a way to explore whether the messages she received and believed as a child and teenager, that she wasn’t good enough or that she was an embarrassment and didn’t fit in, were true.
If she managed to navigate the wealthy, sophisticated world that Taz was so comfortable in, she could rewrite the criticisms she’d been fed and swallowed.
Believed. And if her parents swooped in?
What would she do then? Millie released a long breath, feeling overwhelmed.
She could cross that bridge if and when it came to that.
First, she needed to decide whether posing as Taz’s girlfriend was something she wanted to do.
It was a lot of money to turn down. With three-quarters of a million, she could make a difference in many people’s lives and do it in Ben’s name. How could she pass that opportunity up? She couldn’t, could she?
But this wasn’t the time to make rash decisions.
She’d consider his offer later; right now she needed to work.
She hurried to catch up with Taz’s long-legged stride to the entrance to the track.
‘Your press conference will take place in the press room shortly. The journalists will quiz you on your actions in Shanghai and will have questions about your injuries. And I can carry my laptop bag.’
‘I’ve got it, and you sent me an email briefing me about today’s press conference. It’s fine.’
She braked, not sure she’d heard him correctly. She’d expected him to moan and complain about sitting down for a Q and A. ‘Right, good.’ She squinted at him. ‘Did you hear what I said?’
He gave her a quick eye-roll. ‘I’m not deaf. And if we don’t keep moving, we are going to be swarmed.’
Fans and members of the press corps started drifting in their direction, and Millie started to walk, battling to keep up with Taz’s pace.
The noise level intensified as they approached the crowd that stood between them and the turnstiles that would allow them access to the paddock.
Millie glanced up at Taz, whose sunglasses covered his startling eyes.
A fan asked him to pose for a photograph, and Taz—notorious for ploughing his way through crowds—stopped to take the selfie, then another one.
What was happening here? Then, to make things even stranger, he grabbed her hand and threaded his fingers through hers.
She tried to tug her hand away: He was going to give everyone the wrong impression, and that was a headache neither of them needed. If he’d let go of her hand, she could slip behind the crowd, swipe her pass and wait on the other side of the paddock.
A journalist pointed his camera at their linked hands. ‘Are you in a relationship with your press liaison officer, Taz?’ he demanded, his eyebrows raised.
Taz looked down at their hands but didn’t release the clasp. ‘You know I never answer questions about my personal relationships.’
Millie tugged her hand out of his, and when he looked at her, she motioned to the turnstile. ‘I need my hand to get my pass out of my bag,’ she hissed.
Taz pushed his sunglasses into his hair and caught the eye of one of the security guards manning the turnstiles. ‘Can you let us through, Juan?’
The turnstiles clicked open, and Millie stumbled into the paddock, still feeling the heat of Taz’s palm on hers. She watched as he casually pushed his hands into the pockets of his pants, and she caught the corners of his mouth lifting.
‘You did that on purpose!’ she shout-whispered, as they walked to the De Rossi section of the paddock.
Taz greeted a driver and shook hands with another. After answering a question about his hand from another team owner, he looked down at Millie. ‘I didn’t want to lose you in the crowd,’ he told her.
What nonsense! There weren’t that many people on this side of the fence, and she could’ve easily dodged them if he’d let her go. No, he was trying to manipulate her into acting as his girlfriend and thought by creating the perception, she’d bend.
It was something her parents would do, had done.
Like Taz, they never took no for an answer.
‘I won’t be pressurised into acting as your girlfriend, Tazio De Rossi’ she told him, surprised at her vehemence.
And, maybe, a little proud of herself. It was about time she was able to stick up for herself.
He stopped, pulled her out of the way and folded his arms. ‘What do you have to lose?’ he asked, keeping his voice low, intimate, a hint of a challenge in it.
‘You’re going to be spending the next six weeks with me anyway.
Why not get an extra million for holding my hand and looking at me in a somewhat adoring manner? ’
He’d increased his offer again. The mind boggled at what he was offering, thinking of all the things she could do with that kind of money, like how she could fund Ben’s dream of training talented underprivileged teen racers.
But she needed to keep thinking clearly.
‘Everyone will think I am unprofessional mixing business and pleasure,’ Millie shot back.
‘Everyone knows I am difficult to work with. They are already impressed you’ve stuck it out this long,’ Taz responded wryly. ‘Most of my press liaison officers barely last the week, never mind two months. They certainly don’t get promoted.’
He wasn’t wrong that this could help people see he wasn’t the man they thought he was. She was also trying to step out of her comfort zone, to do things that challenged her, be less like her ultra-cautious self. You’re mad if you don’t take him up on his offer, squirt.
Ben’s voice was so clear, she could swear that if she turned she would see him standing there.
Be brave, take a chance.