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“That’s because she’s busy too. But I said I’d bring her by and I will.” Eventually. One day. Maybe.
Mom cleared her throat. Not a good sign. “There’s something else. We know you’ve told us a million times not to talk to reporters. And we’ve been good about that.”
I paused mid-step. “Who did you talk to, Mum?”
“No one, but this man came around asking about you. Said you were friends from school, but he looked far too old, and I pointed that out. He wasn’t going to get one over on your mother.”
“Did he give you his name?”
“Said his name was Roger. I asked to see some identification, and he started making excuses, claiming he’d forgotten it. I told him to bugger off. But then I was sure I saw him hanging around, parked in his car. So I had your father go up and talk to him. He said he was waiting for someone. I’m going to call the police if I see him again.”
That was unsettling. “You did the right thing. If he comes around again, definitely call the police.”
“It gets worse. It sounds like this same joker contacted Natalie too. She called and told me that someone came round to hers, claiming to be a friend of yours. I just know it’s the same person.”
My blood ran cold. No reporter should know about Natalie. “What did she say to him?”
“Nothing. She said she knew right away that the bloke wasn’t genuine. After all, what would a school chum be doing ringing her? I’m not sure what’s going on here, but I thought you should know.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I had a feeling I knew who was behind this, and if I didn’t get my shit together soon, my life was about to blow up.
ChapterSixteen
Luna
On Tuesday, we left my little apartment for a hotel after long goodbyes to Elizabeth and Cecilia. Devin wanted to be near his team and the track, and he couldn’t stand another night sharing a twin bed. I also suspected that the Russo team bosses would lose their mind if they saw Devin’s sleeping arrangements. He needed his rest, and the small, uncomfortable bed wouldn’t cut it.
I was settling into our room when Rafe came to see me.
“Where’s Flynn?” he asked when I let him in.
“Team meeting. What’s up?”
“Nothing. It was you I came to see. Alexander Wheaton is in town, and he wants to meet with us tonight.”
He was one of the big sponsors I’d landed our team. The designer had seen me wearing his clothes on Instagram and had signed on with us. “What about?”
“He said something about our pit uniforms. He wants to spice them up or something. If he’s willing to pay for them and up his sponsorship, I don’t have a problem with that. The meeting is tonight at eight in his hotel suite.”
I sent Devin a text to let him know and went to dinner with Rafe. My brother was very careful, almost too polite, as we ate. I could sense the specter of my breakdown in Cortese hovering over us. Rafe didn’t ask, but I guessed he wanted to know what had happened in Cortese. Our father’s death haunted Rafe just as much as it haunted me. We’d both buried our emotions about it pretty much since it had happened. My breakdown in Cortese had brought that home for me. But I didn’t want to talk about it here, and Rafe seemed happy to pretend nothing had happened. So instead of talking about things that mattered, we chatted about the upcoming race and what Alexander Wheaton wanted.
After dinner, we headed to our meeting. Alexander was staying in the same hotel as Devin’s team, and as always, Rafe and the rest of Team Perez were in a less-expensive hotel. We made our way to the penthouse suite.
Alexander himself showed us in and offered us a drink, but we both declined. He introduced us to a few of his colleagues and then asked us to sit down. Something didn’t feel right. Was he about to lower some kind of boom? If he dumped us, we’d be screwed.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he said, walking around his suite with a glass of red wine in hand. “What can I do to bring more attention to my team?”
I smiled. That “my” was a good sign. Some of my tension slipped away. What had I been so worried about? Alexander had taken a keen interest in the Perez team. He never missed watching a race, either televised or, when his schedule permitted, in person. He also seemed to have great affection for both me and Rafe and called us his kids. And his marketing plans were always genius.
“What brilliant idea did you come up with?” I asked. I loved stroking his ego, and he loved having it stroked.
“Darling, you are like a third driver, in my opinion,” he said, flashing his perfect smile. “Your visibility is just as high as Rafe’s. You have a boyfriend who is quite the character, and you bring attention to one another. So I asked myself, why am I not taking advantage of this exposure? Well, I got together with one of my chief designers, and we’ve come up with a pit uniform just for you, my dear. William, bring out the clothes.”
I was intrigued and a little worried at the same time. I refused to prance around in anything skimpy. I’d seen what some of the staff and hangers-on wore, and I wasn’t joining them in their lack of fabric.
One of the men brought out several articles of clothing, all in the familiar forest-green colors of Perez. The clothes didn’t vary much from each other, and all had the same theme. They were to accentuate my athletic figure. I vetoed a skintight number that resembled more of a cat suit without even having to try it on. I deemed it inappropriate for a team owner. The rest I popped in and out of the bathroom to try on and model for the assembled group. The outfit I liked most was the simple polo shirt with slim-fitting pants. There was a matching skirt that looked like something I’d wear to play tennis, just a bit longer. I liked it, too, and the outfit got approving nods from everyone in the room.
“Fantastic,” Alexander said, clapping his hands. “This outfit is perfect. Luna, my dear, your usual pit clothes just don’t do much for you. Too frumpy for a woman with such a lovely figure. This outfit makes you look sporty, but at the same time smart and sexy—and a boss. You should show off those legs of yours more often.”
