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Somehow she had to accept that fact.
The circus moved on.
Pedro and Bernadette flew to Rome for some romantic downtime while the rest of the team went straight to Monte Carlo. Usually she’d be there, overseeing the car’s arrival, but Abby had put it off.
There were a lot of bad memories in Monte Carlo; Matteo knew that and yet, still, he did not call.
He wanted to.
Or rather he wanted a life that had existed before April. One where the Lost Mistresses had been just an old tale that his grandfather had told. He wanted the life he had once led back—fast paced, lots of sex, not getting off to a memory.
Matteo was angry.
Every time he thought of calling Abby he would pull up the image of himself and his father coming out of a casino some thirty years apart and, if that wasn’t enough of a reminder, the arrival of an email from Ellison was.
Any progress? Abby has formally declined my invitation.
Good for her, Matteo thought. It was Ellison’s do the Friday after the race and he was tempted to reply to the email with two choice words.
Yet, he was as complicit in the attempt to get her to the function, wearing the necklace, as her father was.
Even Giovanni had called wanting an update and Matteo had been unusually terse with the old man.
Matteo knew that he had to speak properly with his grandfather.
Yes, he was angry.
Abby deserved better—someone who would deliver on the relationship front and, according to his lineage, Matteo never could. Even if by some miracle he could negate that fact, he knew that the moment Abby found out about the origins of his supposed interest in her team, it would end them.
Checkmate.
And so the day she got to Monte Carlo he fired one very rapid text.
Hope preparations are going well. I’ll try to make it for the practice race.
And then he fired another text to Pedro, reminding him what they had discussed, and the best that Matteo could do was hope Pedro would take his request seriously.
Pedro did.
* * *
Abby hated being here.
She woke up and let out a tense breath as she checked her phone and of course Matteo hadn’t called.
Only it wasn’t just Matteo’s imminent arrival that had Abby in knots.
Matteo had been right; Hunter was playing mind games because he’d changed hotels again and two days before the race had checked into the one that the Boucher team were staying at.
Yes, it was a different hotel than the last time she had been here, but just being in a hotel in Monte Carlo already had Abby on edge.
There was a knock at the door and it was the Perpetual Pedro wanting to go down to breakfast.
‘I just want to run through a few things,’ he said.
‘Sure.’ Abby nodded. ‘I’ll meet you down there.’
‘I’ll wait.’
