“Well, I should hope so after that public display.”
Hank laughed and the men around him laughed as well. Clarke had the feeling he expected him to join in. But Clarke didn’t. Something about it made him uncomfortable, especially since Ceci remained silent.
He pulled Clarke forward, placing his other hand on his shoulder. It had all the appearance of a warm and friendly greeting, only it didn’t feel that way. Maybe because as a result of her father doing it, Ceci was now standing directly behind Clarke.
Clarke was the first to release his grip.
He turned back and, placing his arm around Ceci’s waist, pulled her forward to stand alongside him. He felt her stiffen.
“I must say I’m surprised,” Hank said. “I heard rumors but I thought that’s all they were.”
“No,” Clarke said, “as you can see.”
“So,” he said, “you going to turn things around this year? You have some steep competition.”
Clarke looked around. Anker was gone.
He turned back, making certain to look the man in the eye when he spoke. “You mean your daughter.”
“This is my son,” Hank said, ignoring Clarke’s comment, pulling the boy forward and placing his hands on his shoulders. “It’s his birthday.”
Clarke smiled at the boy. “Happy Birthday.”
“He’s just started karting,” Hank said. “Maybe you can give him some pointers.”
“Sure.”
Clarke gripped Ceci tighter, pulling her in so he could feel her body next to his. She felt what? Lighter? But not in a good way. In a way that suggested she might drift away or suddenly evaporate if he didn’t keep her here.
“My dad’s going to start up a new F2 team,” the boy said.
“So I heard.” Still smiling, Clarke’s focus shifted to Ceci’s father. “Maybe you could do me a favor and consider hiring your daughter as a team principal or a driver. Anything to get her away from F1. It’d make things a lot easier for me.”
A flash of something that felt like electricity shot through him, and he flinched at the sudden and unexpected nature of it. He cast a sidelong glance at Ceci and realized the jolt had come from her.
Hank Rivers nodded. “I imagine it’s difficult competing against someone you’re involved with.”
That wasn’t what Clarke had meant because they weren’t in fact involved, at least not in that way. Of course, her father didn’t knowthat. But Clarke couldn’t help but think the man was intentionally misinterpreting him. Given Ceci had bested Clarke the last few years, he’d thought it was obvious what he’d meant. A Formula 1 season without Ceci Rivers as team principal of Blue Jet Lightning was sure to improve Clarke’s chances of winning races and that trophy. But maybe that was something her father refused to acknowledge.
Someone tapped Mr. Rivers on the shoulder and he turned around, momentarily pausing their conversation.
Should he say something? Clarke looked over at Ceci, seeking some guidance. But she’d suddenly grown quiet. It was so unlike her.
She’d invited him here to make things easier for her. At least that was his impression. He felt fairly certain that meant make things easier with her father. Although other than what he’d already done, he wasn’t altogether sure how he was supposed to do that. He wasn’t even sure he’d calculated correctly with that kiss. Perhaps correcting the man wasn’t the way to go.
Finally, her father turned back around.
“Probably not the smartest move to become involved with someone from a rival team,” he said. “But if she is going to make that mistake, it gratifies me to see that it’s you. I’m happy to have you in my home. I hope this will be the first of many visits. I know my boy here is thrilled to have you here. His friends will be coming in about an hour or so. I hope you’ll stick around.”
“Of course.”
“We were just about to go out and do a little shooting. How are you with a rifle?”
“Not bad,” Clarke said.
“Well, come join us.”
Clarke was prepared to follow him, but Ceci grabbed his arm and pulled him back.
