Fast-Track Dating Deception
Joss Wood
CHAPTER ONE
Shanghai
‘HE’S LATE. Why is he late?’
In the luxurious De Rossi hospitality suite above the pit lane at the Shanghai International Track, Millie James swallowed the urge to sarcastically ask Sylvie whether she’dmetTaz De Rossi. Since starting work as Taz’s press officer at the beginning of the Formula One season six weeks ago, he’d never been on time for anything PR-related. As the person responsible for managing his media requests and his public relations commitments, she spent a great deal of time apologising for him being late or for being a no-show. She didn’t know why Sylvie expected Taz to attend this PR briefing for the De Rossi team; he hadn’t attended any others so far this season.
The owner and principal driver of the famous F1 team never did anything he didn’t want to do. And why should he? He came from a famous racing family and was on track to beat his older brother’s record of three consecutive Formula One championship wins.
He was also, by far, the most difficult—if sexiest—client she’d ever worked with.
Arrogant, assured and annoying, but stillsoattractive.
Like her parents, he was one of life’s golden people. Counting back, she realised she hadn’t heard from them in many months. It was a measure of her discomfort that she found it easier thinking about her dysfunctional family than her very inconvenient attraction to her brusque boss.
Millie sighed. Her family…
It was impossible to think of her parents without thinking of her aunt and uncle—her mum and aunt were twins and lived two doors apart—as the quartet of semi-famous actors operated as an elegantly vicious pack. She and her cousin Ben, both only children, had been raised as siblings and had been extremely close, their bond fuelled by parental criticism, benign neglect and apathy. Ben often joked that they were shockingly well-adjusted considering they’d been raised by the four most self-involved people on planet Earth. To be fair, Ben had been less affected than Millie by their collective crazy.
It was true that the good died young…
Millie looked at the silver racing-car charm dangling from her heavy link silver bracelet. Over the past few months, as she inched closer to the tenth anniversary of Ben’s death, she’d started questioning her life: who she was, what she wanted and where she was going. Ben’s voice had been loud lately—You’re overqualified for your position as junior publicist,You should not have been passed over for that promotion,You’re treading water. He’d been the one person in her life who believed she was smart, capable and interesting.
In her late teens and early twenties, she’d ignored his offers to spend the weekend watching him race in glamorous cities and rejected his offers of free VIP race tickets. Her shyness and lack of confidence stopped her from visiting his sophisticated world. She’d been so convinced they had all the time in the world and would toast each other at their weddings and on milestone birthdays…until Ben had died in a horrific crash, and for years Millie ignored anything to do with Formula One racing.
Then she’d seen the press liaison position advertisement for De Rossi Racing, Ben’s old Formula One team, and felt compelled to apply. Two months ago, she traded in her secure job as a junior accounts manager within a PR firm to take a ten-month contract with De Rossi Racing for the F1 season.
Despite hating the uncertainty of what she’d do after her contract ended, Millie never once second-guessed her decision. She needed to be here, in the world Ben loved, where his voice was loudest in her head, to make some hard decisions, including whether she saw herself as Ben did—capable, smart, interesting—or, as her parents did, boring and unadventurous. They were bold and beautiful, outrageously at ease standing in the spotlight. They craved attention and saw Millie’s shyness and reserve as serious character flaws. In their eyes she was inadequate.How did we create something so banal?were their exact words.
Since Ben’s death, she’d avoided them and her aunt and uncle as much as possible as she adjusted to the Ben-shaped hole in her life. Through avoidance, sheer grit and emotional distancing, she’d just managed to keep her head above choppy emotional waters. But the opportunity to be Taz De Rossi’s press officer seemed to be a sign to stop treading water and start swimming. To move on, to change…toliveby stepping into the world Ben—her best friend, her brother—had adored.
Mika, the team’s senior public relations officer groaned and banged her phone against her forehead, jolting Millie out of her reverie. Millie recognised Mika’s exasperation, as did Sylvie, who beat her to the punch. ‘What has he done now?’ she demanded.
Mika lifted her phone, and she and Sylvie took turns peering at the photographs on the screen. She recognised the club, Lily’s, in London. In the photos, Taz was exiting the upmarket venue, a common occurrence. What made these photos newsworthy was that instead of walking out of the club with the always-volatile Phoebe, his on-off ex-model/influencer girlfriend, Taz held the hand of a stunning blonde.
Meredith, Taz’s dead brother’s fiancée, held her other hand up to her face, trying to shield her eyes from the blinding camera flashes. Taz looked like he wanted to hurt someone.
To be fair, he often looked like that. Unlike his brother Alex, who’d been charming, outgoing and gregarious, Taz’s default expression was one of two: intimidating or brooding. And he had the face to pull it off: dark brown, almost black hair, laser-focused grey eyes, a long nose and high cheekbones. While Alex had been poster-boy pretty, Taz’s face, with its severe angles, was harder, rougher and a great deal more masculine. Like a good painting, it was a face you could look at for a lifetime and still find it compelling.
But everyone knew Taz would never settle down. The notion was incomprehensible. He was the world’s most eligible—and determined-to-remain-so—bachelor. He was selfish, a tad narcissistic and ruthlessly ambitious. Demanding, dismissive and difficult, he was very like Millie’s parents. There had been many times since starting work six weeks ago when she felt tongue-tied and uncertain in his presence. She’d reminded herself she was an adult and not the scared, shy and shunned child standing in her parents’ too-bright shadow.
In her personal life, she avoided Taz and people of his ilk, bright and bold, effortlessly and innately confident. Unfortunately, avoiding her employer wasn’t an option. Professionally, in PR terms, Taz wasmessy—and he washermess. ‘WhatdoesTaz think he’s doing?’ Mika demanded. ‘He knows Meredith is off-limits.’
‘Do you think they went to the club together?’ Sylvie asked, frowning.
‘Well, they certainly left it together,’ Mika snapped back. ‘And according to gossip online, they spent most of the evening snuggled up together in a booth.’
Millie took another look at the photograph. The six-foot-two Taz, dressed in a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up and dark blue jeans, towered over the slim ex-model. His honed physique, wide shoulders, thick arms and muscled legs made Meredith look even more petite than she was. He was unquestionably attractive, and he exuded an attitude of not caring what the world thought about him.
She was the daughter of narcissistic, vain parents. She wasted so much time wishing she could be the child they wanted her to be, to reach what she now realised were unrealistic expectations of her. She admired Taz’s rebellious, devil-may-care attitude. How nice it would be not to care what people—including the semi-famous Quartet—thought.
Millie squinted at the picture… Something was off. She wasn’t getting the vibe that there was anything sexual about this encounter with the woman who’d been poised to be his sister-in-law. While she wasn’t Taz’s biggest fan, and he often made her job fifty times harder than it needed to be, she wasn’t sure all was as it seemed.
‘I’ll show Taz the photo and ask for a comment,’ Millie said. She wouldn’t get one, but she’d ask.
