But I ate—for the first time in days.
***
I almost skipped the presentation of the new VoltaForge bike, but Ale would’ve lost it if I missed a networking chance—and he’d be right. I couldn’t hide and lick my wounds forever, not when I needed to remind people I was still relevant.
The hotel in Jerez buzzed with bike enthusiasts, media, and industry pros. After the rep droned through features and specs, I made small talk with a few guys I knew, then retreated to the wall with a glass of champagne.
A tall guy studied the bike displayed on its platform. He rubbed his chin, glanced at the screen flashing specs, then scanned the room like he was hunting for someone to answer his questions. Everyone else was too busy snapping pictures or schmoozing to notice him.
I decided to put him out of his misery.
“Thinking of buying it?” I asked, stepping closer.
He arched a brow. “Can’t decide. Would it work in the city? I showed up late and missed the talk.”
“The frame’s lightweight, chassis is narrow,” I said. “Easy to weave through traffic. Suspension’s solid.”
“Yeah. That’d help in Ellingworth. Traffic’s insane there.”
Ellingworth—close to Stetbourg. Small world.
“So you’re from Ellingworth?” I asked. “I used to live in Stetbourg.”
His gaze sharpened. “Wait. You’re Asher Williams. Forward Racing, right?”
“Wow.” I chuckled. “Didn’t think anyone would recognize me. Should’ve worn shades.”
His deep laugh carried above the buzz of voices and music. “Sorry for blowing your cover. I’m Emrys Delano. Please, call me Rys.”
I clasped his hand, then paused. “Delano Hotels…?”
“My business? Well, my father’s and mine. Ever stayed at one?”
My chest clenched with a rush of nostalgia and tenderness. “Spent the best night of my life in one.”
Rys’s smile spread wide. “Glad to hear it. We’re building one here, near El Puerto de Santa María.”
“That’s nice.”
Comfortable silence stretched between us, but Rys didn’t rush off. We stood shoulder to shoulder, watching people circle the bike. He asked what it felt like to race at two hundred miles an hour, if fear ever crept in before the lights went out. I asked how he handled running a hotel empire in his twenties.
He admitted he still second-guessed himself, that half the time he felt like he was winging it. I laughed because it sounded a lot like racing—pretending you knew exactly what you were doing while praying you didn’t crash.
Somewhere between the jokes and confessions, I realized I liked him. Not just polite-conversation liked him—actually liked him. He was sharp, but easy. No posturing, no ego trip. Just a guy who carried a lot but didn’t flaunt it.
He checked his watch with a wince. “I’ve got another commitment tonight, but I can show you the property tomorrow if you’re free.”
“Sure,” I said.
He slipped a hand into his blazer, pulled out a business card, and scribbled on the back with an ink pen. “My personal cell. Call me when you’re free tomorrow. I’ll be at the hotel all day.”
I tucked it into my pocket. “Will do.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Asher
“Ithink it’s an amazing opportunity,” Ale said.
