Nico sighed. “Yes … well, by sight and reputation. You’ve never met him. I’d never met him until last night.”
To say she’d been shocked when she’d walked into Drink and Dive to see Rocco Vittori was an understatement. What was he doing in Vegas? He couldn’t be here to sign with the same team, could he? The team she was set to sign with? In a matter of hours?
Nico looked up at Charles. “Can I borrow those huge sunglasses of yours? You know, the ones that swallow up half your face.”
Charles’s brow wrinkled. “Why?”
“Because I have a hangover, and the sun will only make it worse.”
“But you have your own sunglasses. The only reason why you’d want to borrow mine is to hide.” Charles’s eyes flew open wide. “Fromsomeone who might recognize you. Like maybe the guy you shagged last night at Drink and Dive.”
“Shagged? I didn’t shag him.”
“Didn’t you?”
“No! I think you mean fleece.”
Charles waved his hands. “Whatever. The point is, you would only feel the need to hide from this fleece-ee if there was the possibility that he might see you and recognize you. But for him to see you and recognize you, he’d have to run into you. And you’re not doing anything today other than going to Maverick Racing headquarters to sign the contract, which means you’re thinking he might be there.”
“I’m not thinking he might be there! He better not be there. Oh, please don’t let him be there.”
“So, there is a possibility that he might—”
Nico groaned. “Be there.”
Charles fell back on the bed. It was as though what Nico said pushed him off his feet. Then the realization of what she’d said tossed him from the bed, and he sprung back up like a jack-in-the-box after you’d cranked the handle.
He grabbed Nico’s shoulders, looking fiercely into her eyes. “He’s a driver?!”
Nico nodded.
“An F1 driver?”
Again, she nodded.
Charles stared wide-eyed at all the money on the bed.
“No wonder all those hundreds. Damn, how much did you take him for?”
She had no idea. It wasn’t about the money. She’d just wanted to beat him. Take the annoying, arrogant, asshole, prick down a notch.
“So, you’re thinking he might be there? Is he going to be on your team?”
Nico shrugged. “I don’t know who the second driver is.”
She must have had a pitiful look on her face because Charles’s tone suddenly changed to a more sympathetic one.
“He won’t recognize you, if that’s what you’re worried about. No one ever does. You’ve had too much experience doing that sort of thing.I mean, in the past. You become a whole different person. You’re good at it. And you did wear the wig.”
Nico hoped Charles was right.
Rocco Vittori was without a contract. No one as of yet had picked him up. That was the last she’d heard. With any luck, things would stay that way, he wouldn’t be racing, and he’d retire.For good, she thought, gritting her teeth.
And yet he was here. In Vegas. Why?
He couldn’t be signing onto the same team. Just couldn’t.
“Wait a minute,” Charles said. “I don’t get it. If you knew he was a driver, why would you—” Charles stared at Nico, a look of horror on his face.
