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“Yeah, about that. We have an issue.”
“What kind of issue?”
Her lips pull into a grimace. “There’s a problem with the hotel.”
“Okay . . .”
“You don’t have a room. At least not for tonight. We think we can secure one at the team hotel for tomorrow through Monday.”
“Wait, what? Why?”
“There was a mix-up, and our travel person canceled your father’s registration because of his situation—”
Just then, the door flies open. Tanya and I look up to see Max in the doorway. He’s still wearing sunglasses, looking impossibly cool and rested, even though he’s been with a reporter.
“Hallo,” he says cheerfully. “Sorry to interrupt. I wanted to tell you how today’s interview went.”
My eyebrows shoot up. Is this normal for a driver? Maybe it is. My father’s a bit of a micromanager. “We’re a little busy. We kind of have a situation.”
“Okay, I’ll wait.” Max plunks onto the only other available chair and takes out his phone.
I try to catch Tanya’s eye, as if to silently say WTF, but she ignores him and me. Maybe this is business as usual—I could see my father encouraging his drivers to lounge around his office, so I’m going to roll with it.
Still, Max’s mere presence inspires a physical reaction in me. It’s as if my skin tingles when he’s nearby, like he’s a pleasurable magnetic force field. It doesn’t help that he looks impeccable. He’s in perfectly fitted, well-faded jeans, a tight black T-shirt, and black sneakers. On any other man the outfit would look plain, but on him, it’s irresistible. He slides his sunglasses off and his bright blue eyes look me up and down.
I’m sure I’m blushing, so I turn in Tanya’s direction. “Anyway. What were you saying about the hotel room?”
“The Plaza’s fully booked for tonight. Your father normally gets a suite, along with the two drivers.”
“I don’t need a suite. Any room will do. A closet is fine. I’m not picky.”
“There are no other rooms at the Plaza. Everything’s booked solid.”
“I’m sure there are other hotels in Austin.”
“All booked for race weekend.”
“Every single one? That seems improbable.”
“Unless you want to stay at a rent-by-the-hour motel an hour away.” Tanya purses her lips. “We need you closer. We could ask someone to bunk with someone else.”
I let out a sigh. The last thing I want to do during my first week with the team is disrupt their sleeping accommodations. That will only make me seem like a diva, but what other choice do I have?
“It’s only for tonight?”
“Yeah, the hotel is going to bump someone tomorrow so you can have the suite.”
“What about airbnbs—”
“I have a suite. You can stay in mine.” Max leans forward, his elbows on his knees.
“Where are you going to stay?” I twirl in my chair to stare at him.
He shrugs. “In the suite.”
I can’t believe he’s proposing this. “Oh, god no. You of all people need to rest during race week.”
Back when he first started in Formula World Max had trouble on the track because he didn’t get enough sleep. He used to be one of those people who couldn’t sleep well in new places, and traveling around the world made it nearly impossible for him to get much needed rest. That detail even made the tabloids at one point, and in his home country the press dissected his slumber habits before and after every race. That would’ve annoyed me, but he let it roll off his back like water on a duck.
