Page 36 of The Chase


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“Now I will,” I said, beaming.

“And I have a completely new line of clothing for the team. I don’t just want my kids to look great, but the rest of the team as well. We’ll be one of the best-dressed teams out there. I plan to market these clothes in all my stores worldwide. We will come up with a more-than-fair licensing agreement. I expect brisk sales. Now, Luna,” he said, focusing on me again, “I’ll have all the sponsor patches sewn on this outfit tonight. I want to see you strutting yourself around tomorrow.”

“Alexander, you have my word. I can’t wait.”

* * *

The outfit was delivered to my room first thing the next morning. Devin wanted to see it, but I insisted that he had to wait like everybody else. He left before me to meet with Davide, his race engineer. It gave me time to pull my new outfit out of the garment bag and examine it carefully. The Wheaton people had perfectly placed all the sponsors' names and logos, including their Wheaton logo most prominently. I put on the forest-green polo shirt and slipped into the slim-fitting black pants. They fit me like a velvety glove. Simple, but expertly tailored. I pulled my hair into a ponytail and put on a bit of makeup, then stared at myself in the mirror, delighted. Everyone was going to see me for once. I was sure of it.

I left the room and made my way to the paddock with my head held high. Every man in the Perez pits whistled. It was contrived, but I found it flattering nonetheless. They had taken notice. Jane Edwards, a racing reporter who missed nothing, was in the Perez pits within minutes.

“Stunning,” Jane said with approval. “Don’t you want these men to concentrate on the race?”

“There are thousands of women hanging around the track wearing much less than I have on right now. If I can distract them with my outfit, then there must be something wrong with them.”

Jane took me by the arm, and we walked down pit lane. I could tell she wanted something. “What would you say to an exclusive interview? You and Devin? We’d make it flattering, of course: no mention of his past dalliances.”

“Jane, you know that Devin and I are not going to talk publicly.”

“But why? It could boost both of your careers. I can give you the cover of our magazine. Everyone wants to know more about the two of you, and what little we can get out of Flynn is always so dry. It’s not like him to be bland; it’s very disappointing. At least, think about it.”

“I will.” Even though I wasn’t.

Suddenly, two arms wrapped themselves around my waist from behind. I shrieked before realizing it was Devin being his goofy self. Jane found the whole scene amusing, and I noticed several photographers take pictures. This was surely going to be all over social media.

“Jane, I need this woman right away; it’s important,” Devin said, scooping me up into his arms and carrying her away.

The photographers kept snapping pictures.

“You know this is going to be all over the place in five minutes,” I said, trying to sound angry but failing miserably.

“I’ll make sure to check it out.”

He set me down just inside the Russo pits. Erich was there and complimented me on my new uniform. I congratulated him on the birth of his son. I’d made sure to send a gift from both me and Devin.

Devin pulled me away and into the motorhome. There were several people milling around, but none took notice of us even when he pushed me up against one of the walls and kissed me.

“What’s wrong with you?” I asked as he kissed my neck.

“I find you irresistible in this outfit,” he said, playing with a button on my polo shirt.

“This is embarrassing,” I said, trying to squirm away.

“We could have sex right here and they wouldn’t even notice.”

“Well, we aren’t going to test that theory.”

“You’re so boring.”

“Enough about that,” I said, pushing him away. “Jane wants us to do a joint interview.”

He arched a brow. “What kind of interview?”

“She’s dying to know if you wear boxers or briefs.”

“That’s none of her business. She’s so nosy.”

I couldn’t tell if he’d thought I was serious. “She wants to talk about us, not your underwear.”

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