Chapter 10
Peter
I’m sitting in Arthur’s office, and for the first time, I’m disappointed in the man, feeling like I’ve been wrong about him.
“Arthur, I really didn’t expect this from you. All the others in this team, yes, but I don’t see why you’d be on board for this.”
He lets out a long breath, looking like he’s not all that excited about the news he just delivered. He just suggested that I enter a PR relationship to improve my reputation.
I would have expected this from everyone else but him, which is why I’m questioning my judgment and whether or not I’ve got it all wrong.
He looks at me, and I can tell he’s thinking about how much he’ll tell me.
I know the suits like to cook up their strategies and stories, not bothering to include me, and it seems like they’ve gotten to Arthur in some way as well.
“Know this, Peter. This wasn’t my idea, and I’ve worked hard for it not to get this far, but I’m afraid this is the only compromise we could reach.”
Then he tells me that ever since he took over this team, the suits have been on him, telling him how much of a problem I am and that we need to change my reputation if we want Audi to be taken more seriously.
I feel slightly better when he tells me that he’s pushed back and defended me, saying my last race win speaks for itself.
Unfortunately, the rest seem determined that this is the way forward. It’s one thing to be taken seriously on track; they also want me to be portrayed differently off track.
And their solution is for me to be the perfect boyfriend, at least to the press.
God, these fucking gossip columns and their need for the next romance story.
Luke Hastings really fuelled that fire last year.
Now every PR assistant is eager to have the next big love story for their driver.
Arthur knew I would hate this idea and told the team he would handle this with me personally. The PR management didn’t like that, but what Arthur says goes.
At least now I’ll have the opportunity to have a say in who I must appear with.
Apparently, the first one will be tonight, at the charity gala we’re attending.
“I know this isn’t something you’d want, but I have someone in mind I think you’d get along with, and I know she won’t be having her own agenda in this,” Arthur says, just as I hear a knock on the door.
Arthur calls out for the person to enter.
“What was so urgent, Dad, that I had to rush over here? I was working and—” Molly stops in her tracks as she comes into the office and sees me sitting in the chair.
Dad?
Is she Arthur’s daughter?
“Molly, please sit down. I need to discuss something with you and Peter here.”
Oh, hell.
Is this what I think it is?
She looks sceptically between me to her dad, probably wondering what the hell the three of us need to discuss.
She’s sending daggers my way, maybe wondering if I’ve ratted her out to her dad about hooking up with me.
She’s a grown woman, so I don’t see how that would ever be a problem, but I guess Molly doesn’t want her dad to know she kissed his star driver just a week ago.
What a fucking bomb.
How I didn’t put two and two together is beyond me.
Now that I have them both in the same room, I realise why I like them both so much.
They’re similar because they’re freaking family.
“You know how these PR people are, and they want Peter here to date someone, or rather, make some appearances with to help his image,” Arthur begins, and I can tell Molly has lots of questions on her mind, but she lets her dad speak, for now.
“You know the MayWilder name is quickly becoming linked to Audi now because of the ownership, and I thought you could be the perfect candidate.”
If people were capable of having smoke coming out of their ears, I’m certain Molly would be turning this room to ashes in seconds.
“What the hell, Dad? Absolutely not. You know the last thing I want is to be in the public eye, and now you suggest something like this?”
I feel like an intruder, and even though I’m tempted to stand and announce my exit—as father and daughter obviously need to talk together—I’m enjoying seeing her fire at someone other than me for once.
“Moll doll, please. It would be good for our name, and a way for you to take control of those headlines.”
Moll doll.
Freaking adorable.
I don’t know which headlines Arthur is referring to, but I’m planning to find out.
“Maybe I should go,” I say, gripping the armrests of my chair.
“You sit down. This is not happening, especially with him,” Molly says, her dismay towards me evident.
I do as she says and sit back down, enjoying her anger. Now, I kind of want to do this, especially after seeing how little she wants it.
Could be fun.
Molly, all riled up is sexy.
I shouldn’t be getting off on this, but she seems to be the only person drawing out any real feelings in me these days, so I’m holding on to every second of it.
“Please, Molly. It would only be a few times. I kind of promised that I would secure Peter a date tonight, so I really need this,” Arthur says, giving his daughter the most innocent smile.
I may find Arthur intimidating at times, but his daughter is clearly not fazed.
“Then, he can just go on whatever apps people use these days, or have his PR people find a willing model. I’m sure it would be no problem,” Molly says, and now I’m tempted to jump in.
I’d rather have Molly on my arm than any willing model.
They would probably bore me to death whilst, with Molly I just know we would have a good time.
And because I know this woman is incapable of backing down from a challenge, I throw one her way.
“She doesn’t seem to be able to handle it, Arthur. I’m sure I can find someone else,” I say, mostly talking to Arthur, which I know will piss her off even more.
Like hell anyone will talk like she’s not here.
“I am perfectly capable of handling it. I simply don’t want to,” she says, her chin raised as she looks at me.
I raise my brow slightly, narrowing my eyes at her.
Taunting her.
“Sounds like you’re scared. It’s fine. The spotlight isn’t for everyone.”
Now I’m really laying out the douche on her, but she takes the bait. Which is what I wanted.
She breaks.
She huffs, still annoyed and angry at the whole situation, but I can tell she’s going to go through with it.
“Fine. I’ll do it, but you owe me, Dad.”
Arthur runs around the desk, hugging his daughter with all the love he can muster.
“Thank you, Moll doll. I just know this is going to be great.”
～
I’m leaning against my car, waiting for Molly to emerge from the bus before we go to the gala.
The moment she agreed to do this, she took full control. Told me to be here at seven sharp and to have a light yellow handkerchief in my suit pocket to match her dress.
I’m wearing a tuxedo, my hair slicked slightly back, like it was the night I took Jeremy’s place on her date.
Molly makes me feel unsteady with her beauty and personality whenever I’m in her presence, and I know she appreciated my look that night.
Which is why I took my time getting ready for her.
It’s quiet in the paddock, and I don’t understand why she prefers to stay in a bus when she could have any luxury hotel room she wanted.
I’m still in shock over the whole Molly May—which is actually short for Molly MayWilder—millionaire family name.
After our meeting earlier today, I searched up the headlines Arthur referred to.
Weeks ago, the story about the Star News editor, who’s secretly been a millionaire all along, broke.
The fact that I didn’t see the articles isn’t what I find surprising. The fact that I didn’t see the resemblance between Arthur and Molly is.
I’ve spent my fair share of time with him over the past few weeks, and he’s spoken about his daughter several times.
He’s never said her name, though.
Then I would have known.
When she emerges from the bus, I swallow, taking in the beautiful gown she’s wearing, and more importantly, how striking she looks.
Christ, maybe this was a bad idea.
Because how in the hell am I going to keep my attraction at bay when she looks like that?
It seems like I had a momentary memory loss in Arthur’s office when I agreed to this.
Just the day before, I promised myself I would stay away from her.
And now I’m reminded of that promise.
She’s always looking gorgeous, but the colour of her dress elevates her beauty to a new level. Her hair is styled in a tight bun, highlighting her slender neck and the makeup she’s wearing.
“You know, if this whole fake-dating thing is going to look authentic, you’d actually have to talk to me.”
I realise I’ve been staring at her, not saying a word, and of course, she takes the opportunity to let out a dig.
“I’ll have no problem with making this look authentic. Not sure about you, though.” I stroll over to her, using the illusion that this is all just a game when, in reality, I’m dying to be closer to her.
When I get within touching distance, I grab her around the waist and pull her closely to me before I lean down, running my nose along her face.
I breathe her in, everything but her fading to the background as I relish in the feeling of having her close again.
She swallows, looking into my eyes and swaying into my touch as I run my fingers across the bare skin on her back.
I’ll definitely spend some time touching this skin tonight.
When I’m nearing her lips, I whisper, “Authentic enough for you?”
She pushes at my chest, creating distance between us as I smirk at her.
She goes to the passenger seat, opens the door, and slides in before I get in and start the car. “I’m doing this for my dad. Not for you,” she says as I start driving.
I can tell that her relationship with Arthur is important to her.
When he turned those doe eyes on her earlier, I saw the fight leave her, not being able to turn him down.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I know you’re still mad at me for the whole kissing thing,” I tell her, wanting to clear the air, but not really knowing how.
I’ve never felt the need to explain my behaviour to a woman. Never felt like I’ve wanted to make things right.
But my shutdown after I kissed her doesn’t feel right.
I don’t have a clue how to make it right either.
“I’m not mad at you for kissing me. I’m mad at you for being a coward about it,” Molly says, looking over at me from her seat.
I guess she’s right.
I am a coward because she freaking terrifies me.
Not used to anyone making me feel out of control, she turns my head to an even bigger mess than I’m used to, which is saying a lot.
“I guess I just thought a guy like yourself would suggest a deal of some kind, but I guess bad boys have their frights as well.”
Now she’s the one getting under my skin, and she knows it.
Calling me scared.
Knowing I fucking hate it.
What is she getting at when she speaks of a deal?
“What kind of deal?”
Suddenly, she’s the one infiltrating my personal space when she leans over the console in my car.
She runs a finger down my cheek, followed closely by her lips as she presses closer to me.
“A sexual deal,” she whispers, before she bites down gently on my throat, sending a shudder through my body.
Fucking hell.
If she keeps this up, I’m going to give the photographers something to talk about when I pull up to that red carpet with a hard-on.
She wants a strictly sexual relationship?
The idea is far too tempting, and not something I should be thinking about as I’m nearing the place I’ll spend my evening surrounded by press, and more importantly, her family.
Molly leans back in her seat, and I’m tempted to turn the car around and drive straight to my hotel.
Take her up on her offer.
I decide to test her a little. See if she’s serious about this.
I pull into the nearest street, before I turn my car around and start driving back the way we came from. Molly looks confused, asking me what the hell I’m doing since this isn’t the way to the event.
“Taking you to my hotel. I’d rather spend the night between your thighs than in a ballroom,” I tell her, and she loses some of her bravado.
But then she straightens her spine and smooths down her dress with her hands. “Okay.”
Okay?
I look over to her, and when I don’t see any hesitation on her face, I realise she’s serious.
I pull over to the curb because this is a conversation I need to have while looking at her.
“You seriously want a strictly sexual relationship?” I ask her, disbelief in my tone. I should be ecstatic about this.
A sexual relationship with a gorgeous woman I share more chemistry with than any other before her.
But then, I remember who she is and why this is a catastrophe waiting to happen.
She’s my boss’ daughter, and even though I normally wouldn’t care about stuff like that, I’m grateful for my relationship with Arthur.
Fucking his daughter would jeopardize that.
It’s not like we would tell him, but things like that always find its way out in the light.
“Yes. Burning out some of this chemistry would be good,” she says, talking about this effortlessly whilst I’m having a war in my head.
Burning out this chemistry would be fantastic.
I have no doubts we would be explosive together.
So the next word out of my mouth crushes both my heart and my hard-on.
“No.”
Molly looks at me, questions on her face before the realisation sinks in, and she loses some of her confidence.
I fucking hate it.
Hate being the one to turn her down when all I want is to say yes.
I want to ask her for more than a sexual relationship.
But I can’t.
I finally have a shot at a relationship with an adult who provides me with some guidance in this fucked up world.
I realise that Arthur is the closest thing I have to a father figure, and even though it crushes me, I just can’t afford to lose that when I finally have something I’ve craved for so many years.
I feel the urge to tell Molly everything, make her see that this isn’t about her.
This is about my fucked-up life and all the baggage I carry around.
“I guess you were right when you called me a coward, because I just can’t. I’m sorry.”
Just as quickly as the hurt crosses her face, she recovers and mutters something about just forgetting this.
I let out a breath, feeling suffocated in this car and my own head.
Then I pull out on the road and start driving towards the gala, the dread heavy in my stomach.