“Not since last week. If you would let me?—”
I run down my list quickly. “Did you punch someone again?”
“Damn it!” Skylar throws his phone on the table and turns to me. “This, this is what I’m trying to tell you in a delicate way, because Bones said it might upset you, though I didn’t see why since it’s like a public claiming and shit, but apparently I have the feelings of a chimpanzee and I should listen to him.”
Blinking, I stare down at his phone. The coffee and pastries are forgotten as I grab it and pull it closer, skimming the words as Sky waits.
It’s the online version ofRacing Magazine, a national tabloid that reports on our industry. There are usually gossip columns about drivers, like who they are dating, who’s changing companies, and things like that.
This headline is what stops me though, and my stomach plummets.
STARFIRE RACING CEO AND EX CHAMPION NOAH FLETCHER ALLEGEDLY DATING MUCH YOUNGER UP-AND-COMING RACER MACKIE DRAPER.
Shit.
The article makes it seem like he groomed me, going on to post dates of when I joined the company and how young I was, to the recent speculation we are dating from “inside sources.”
“I knew I should have brought alcohol instead,” Sky mutters as I stare. “Don’t read the comments. It’s gone viral and already spread online, so don’t check your socials either.”
Luckily, the company’s PR team usually handles my socials, so I didn’t check them, but I find myself navigating to the comments despite Sky’s warning.
RACEFAN45: Disgusting, isn’t he like a kid?
RACE4LYF: Dating a guy? Seriously?
STARFIRENERD: I knew it. He’s always been weird around Mackie.
NOAHSWIFE: There’s no way. He’s way out of his league.
NOAHSWIFE: Mackie is probably doing this for money. He’s probably the one reporting this.
So it goes on, from outright homophobic to slander on me, Noah, the team, and our racing results. It just gets worse and worse, even though no one even knows if it’s true, but they don’t seem to care.
“We need to get ahead of this before Noah sees it,” I mutter. He spent his life building Starfire and getting us to the championship. Something like this could ruin everything he has created. It’s only gossip, but his reputation and this garage are at stake. “And figure out who told.”
The timing is suspicious. It could be someone from the garage who didn’t agree with it, or it could be Amanda or Noah’s family. I’m not sure. Either way, it doesn’t help.
“Agreed, he’ll lose it.” Skylar nods as we peer at the phone and read the comments.
“Somebody better get me a fucking interview withRacing Magazineright fucking now!” Noah roars as he storms from his office, chest heaving, his face red.
“Welp, too late.” Skylar groans as he sits back, grabs the bag of pastries, and stands. “He’s your problem now. If I were you, I’d suck his dick. It calms anyone down.” He runs away.
“Pussy!” I call as I stand and blow out a breath. Heading over to Noah, I press my hand to his chest and maneuver him back into his office, all while he’s yelling for his team and interviewers.
Once we’re inside, I shut the door. “Hi,” I say softly.
His shoulders slump. “Hi,” he grumbles. “I need to deal with something.”
“I saw it,” I tell him, since he seems to want to protect me.
“Shit.” He scrubs at his face as he paces. “I’m sorry, baby. I don’tknow where they got this from or why. I’ll deal with this. Don’t even worry about it.”
“Noah, take a breath.” I grab him, stopping him in front of me. “This isn’t for you to deal with alone.”
“It’s my fault. I announced it to the garage, and now this,” he laments.
“Do you regret telling people?” I ask.
