Page 11 of Not So Fast
Xander swallowed the grin trying so damn hard to bloom on his face. “I did. That’s true.”
“And then I said I’ll only go if I can stay at the Hotel de la Ville. So I can walk to the circuit.”
Wow.Clearly, she knew the details of attending the race inMonza, just like she seemed to know everything else. “Then I said it’s very expensive and quite difficult to get a room, especially at this late date.”
“But then I pointed out that you make millions of dollars a year and if anyone could pull it off, you could.” Mia slid a smile in his direction, which felt like an arrow straight through the center of his chest. “And you also said I could have paddock passes for all four days. Media day, practice, qualifying and the race, of course.”
Every fiber of his being was telling him to tell her no. But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t let Dirk use Mia as a weapon in this idiotic war he was waging within the team. If Xander paid for Mia to go to Monza, she would at least be out from under Dirk’s influence.
Xander glanced at Dirk, whose forehead was wrinkled with questions. So many questions. Xander loved seeing it.
“Sorry, Dirk. Guess I beat you to it.” It feltso goodto say that. The pain of the race was nearly fading away. Nearly.
“That makes one thing you’ve beat me at.” Dirk directed his gaze to Mia. “I’ll see you in Italy. Don’t let him bribe you into being soft. He deserves every criticism.” Dirk turned on his heel and sauntered off down the paddock.
“Um…” Xander started, not knowing how to explain what he’d just done, because Dirk was right—Mia would have every reason to assume Xander had only invited her in order to convince her to go easier on him with her podcast.
“You alreadyaskedme?” she asked, with all the incredulity the situation demanded. “A little warning would’ve been nice.”
“Yeah. Right. Sorry.” He folded his hands across his chest and closed his eyes, wishing for strength. “He’s just such abloody tosser. He’s been cruelly competitive with me since I came to the team.”
“Maybe he’s jealous.”
“Of what, exactly? He’s placed better than me in every single race this season.”
“True.”
Xander ran his hand through his hair, mentally and physically exhausted. “Dirk invited you here this weekend to get in my head, and that’s also why he invited you to Italy. I couldn’t let him get away with it. That’s why I told him I’d already invited you.”
“So you let your ego take charge?”
“Please spare me the psychological analysis.”
“It’s pretty clear you were motivated by revenge. A need to level the playing field.”
“Maybe.” He cleared his throat. “You aren’t going to talk about this on your show, are you?” He could only imagine what she might say next about him. He’d given her far too much ammunition over the course of this conversation.
“Not sure. Haven’t decided.”
Great. Just great. Bloody brilliant.There was nothing he could do about it now.
Meanwhile, her lips spread into a wide smile, making his face inexplicably flush with heat. “What?” he asked, desperate for her to stop being so…alluring.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Two Formula One drivers just argued over who gets to take me to Monza. Not bad for a stupid podcast.”
“I don’t think I called your podcast stupid.”
“You didn’t have to say it. I could see it on your face.”
He wasn’t sure how she saw anything. He was so good athiding his emotions. Compartmentalizing. It was one of the demands of his sport—he had to push aside the personal to get on with the task at hand.
“So, Italy? I’ll have Isabel contact you about flights and accommodations.”
“Just as long as you aren’t trying to buy me off. I can’t take it easy on you just because you buy me a plane ticket.”
“Afirst classplane ticket.”
“Yeah. Sorry. I wanted to see how far you would go. It’s up to you whether you want to follow through.”
