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It pulled up beside the Dodge Demon, and an older man slid from the driver’s seat. “Holy shit,” Hayes whispered, but I was too busy staring at the woman who’d just climbed out of the passenger seat of the Demon. She must have been in her fifties, but man, if I could look half that good in my fifties, I'd sell my soul to the devil right then and there.
The guy, who must have been a similar age to the woman, leaned forward and kissed her softly. He was handsome, his Mediterranean features obvious, even in the darkness.
Another guy climbed out of the driver’s seat of the Demon, coming over to stand beside them. To say they stuck out in this crowd would be a gross understatement. Apart from being at least thirty years older than most people here, they screamed money. Everything about them dripped with wealth and affluence.
Cat, the woman who’d checked out Willy’s Porsche for enhancements, went over and spoke to them. She smiled brightly at them, before looking over in our direction. The entire group turned toward us, and I had the sudden urge to hide.
Jesse chuckled softly. “Like Candyman, you said their name too many times and they appeared, Hayes.”
The guy from the Ferrari walked toward us, and I whipped my head toward Hayes and Jesse. “Who’s that?”
But I was surprised when Willy answered. “Antony Barbieri. One of the best lawyers on the West Coast and co-founder of VANT Enterprises.”
Now it was my turn to stare, wide-eyed. The man had that swagger of someone who knew their own power. The dude was a silver fox, that was for sure—if powerful older men were your thing. Unfortunately, it had never been my thing; I was always a sucker for the wild boys with little to no regard for their own physical wellbeing. I was doomed to this heartache. It had been all but written in the stars.
Antony Barbieri stopped in front of Hayes. “Mr. Davis, it is good to see you again so soon.”
Hayes flushed, reaching out to shake hands. “Uh, absolutely, sir. But please, call me Hayes.”
The silver fox grinned broadly. “Call me Antony, then. Do you make a habit of street racing?”
Whoops. Guess who got busted with their hands down their pants?
“Uh, no, sir—I mean, Antony. I was just here supporting my friend, Jesse.” Hayes frantically indicated the tall biker. “Jesse, this is Antony Barbieri, who I interviewed with this week for the VANT Racing team.” As Jesse and Antony shook hands, Hayes eyed me, something mischievous crossing his features. Before I knew it, he was tugging me forward. “Actually, I’m glad you’re here. This is Tally Palmer. She’s a former NASCAR racer. Youngest woman to ever race at Daytona. She’s an amazing driver.”
Antony eyed me, one eyebrow raised. “Nice to meet you, Miss Palmer.” His eyes dipped to my stomach, which was still exposed.
Fucking hell.
Whatever, though. I didn’t care what some random person thought.
“And you, sir. That’s a really nice ride.” I lifted my chin at his Ferrari. “I think I’m beginning to see who was behind VANT’s desire to start a racing team.”
Antony threw back his head and laughed. “What can I say? I’m an Italian at heart, and Ferrari and Formula One are basically coded into our DNA.” He glanced between me and Hayes. “My wife, Vanessa, said you drove with quite a lot of expertise tonight, and I guess we know why now. But Hayes says you're a former NASCAR racer?”
My whole body tensed. “Yes. My team released me from my contract partway through the season.” I hoped my frosty tone meant he wouldn’t press.
To his credit, he didn’t, but I felt his eyes appraising me. Man, no wonder he was a good lawyer. I felt weighed and measured. “I see. Well, Hayes, I’m glad we ran into you tonight—it’ll save me a phone call. Welcome to the VANT Racing team.”
Hayes let out a whoop and shook Antony’s hand again. “Thank you so much, sir.”
They sorted out a few details, then Antony left, promising to email Hayes all the paperwork. He walked back over to the little group that included who I assumed was his wife Vanessa, though maybe not, when she turned and kissed the other guy with her too. Whatever, rich people could do what they wanted; it was the boon of being rich.
Which I very much was not.
Exhaustion weighed down my bones, stress and sleep deprivation making me more tired than I’d ever been in my life. I turned to Willy. “We better go home before Colin calls the cops because he thinks we’re dead.” I smiled at Hayes, though I could feel it strain against my cheeks. “It was good to see you, Hayes,” I told him softly. It really was. It was so fucking good to see him, but it was also a painful reminder of everything I’d lost.
Surprising the shit out of me, he stepped forward and hugged me. I tried to hold myself stiff, but I melted into his arms. Hayes had been there for me in my worst moment; it almost seemed poetic that he was here right now too.
“If you need anything, call me, Tally,” he whispered against my hair.
I murmured something unintelligible against his chest. I wouldn’t be doing that, but it was nice of him to offer.
He pulled back, his brows lowered in a serious expression. “I mean it. Call me anytime. You still have my number.”
Sighing, I stepped out of the comfort of his arms. “Yeah, Hayes. I do.”
Jesse was closer than he was before, and he gave me a crooked grin. “I hope I get to race you again soon.”
