Our eyes meet, and I grab a spare water bottle from my bag and shove it his way.
He looks at it, then me.
Hungover?I silently mouth.
He smirks and takes the water bottle without a word, the tips of his gloved fingers grazing mine. I turn my attention back to the meeting while he cracks the drink and takes a sip.
Without warning, Arthur shifts, his elbow knocking into mine. I look over. He’s staring at his feet as if nothing happened, but then he whispers, “Completely sober. How about you?”
I stop myself from snorting. “Oh, just thought you might’ve passed out in your bathtub, since you didn’t text me back.”
“Feisty.”
“Someone needs to care what we do today.”
“And thank God it’s you.”
I roll my eyes. “You should be grateful.”
“Relax, Graywood,” he says beneath his breath. “I’ve got a plan.”
“What? Since when do you have a plan?”
It’s his turn to roll his eyes. “Chin up. You may be smarter than me, but these are my people.”
His people are starting to look over, so I settle back into silence.It’s strangely difficult. I don’t like letting Arthur have the last word. When I glance back over at him, he doesn’t return the favor… but hedoespantomime paying extra-close attention to the meeting, leaning in and nodding. My face heats as I look away, embarrassed that I let myself get caught and silently scolded.
“Lilah?”
It’s that voice that hooks me, dragging me away from Arthur and his unexplained plan. I turn, and there he is.
Max.
Go time.
“Hey,” I say, stepping closer to Arthur so that Max can join the circle between Sarah and me. His preferred location, evidently.
Max stares at me. “What are you doing here?”
“Working?” I meet Sarah’s curious glance; she’s pretending like she isn’t peeking between us. I give her the samemen are so sillylook from earlier. “Oh, is this about our fight? I’m sorry about whatever gave you the impression, but I never said I would quit the documentary, or Black & Graywood. Everything is better now, though, right, Sarah?”
Both Max and I turn toward her. “Totally,” she beams, “Max, do you need to discuss anything with me in my office? I’m happy to clarify the conversation Lilah and I had.”
His cheeks flame beet red. “No. Nope. I need to, uh, talk with Lilah. Lilah?”
“I’d like to join, too, if you don’t mind.”
That’s Arthur. Standing beside me, flanking me. He’s got on a Hollywood-blockbuster smile, and as the three of us walk to the fence for privacy—Max a step ahead, then me, then this six-foot pillar of chaos and muscle—I realize that Arthur’s smiles are knives. Pointed, sharp, with one edge for cutting and one handle grasped firmly in his grip.
Max stops. I stop. Arthur takes one more step, arriving at my side again. The bright sun hanging above us is as hot as an interrogation room lamp, and my heart begins burning somewhere between my sternum and my throat. Boundaries. Life dream. Anger. I’m mad. I’m going to make my own amazing documentary. I won’t cry…
Max opens his mouth to speak, and Arthur shakes his head with a chuckle. “Yeah, no, listen. Lilah said you wanted her to leave. I don’t like that.”
I whip my head to look at him. Why would he lead the conversation withthat? I school my surprise as Arthur crosses his arms, his race suit turning him into a bright orange exclamation mark among Max’s and my wobbly silence. “I want to work with her. Only her. I like her. Feral little thing, isn’t she?” He smirks at me. “If you don’t keep her on, I’ll tell Ignition they need to pay her themselves, and I don’t think they’d like that very much. But your choice, mate.”
“Oh.” Max’s throat bobs as he swallows, his face flustered and confused. “Arthur, I assure you, I can accomplish this documentary myself.”
“How? You’ll be with the other boys. I need Lilah here to stick with me. Film my exciting life and all that nonsense.” Arthur’s dark gold brows draw in, and he tilts his head to one side. “You do know that Holmes Bianco was the one who sought out your company, yeah? Our team principal and international racing legend? He loved that movie about the cheater—I mean, congressman.”
