“Sorry?”
“To publish your story? What are you looking for?”
“I’m not going to tell you that,” I said, shaking my head.
“I want to help. I might be able to get you what you need. But I have to be careful… my job depends on it.”
“Are you serious?” I didn’t dare hope this was anything but a trap. Why would anyone from the FIA want to help me expose their own cheating?
“I am.”
I had no idea if I could trust her, but offers like this hadn’t exactly been forthcoming until now. I couldn’t afford to turn down her offer if there was any hope of it being genuine.
A bartender approached me and I ordered a glass of red wine. I leaned slightly closer to the woman and kept my voice low.
“I need someone to go on the record. And download logs of Obsidian’s mapping software.”
“Done. The logs, at least.” She slid one hand across the bar and slipped a folded piece of paper under my fingers. I glanced around and swiftly concealed the paper.
The bartender placed my drink in front of me and I turned to ask the woman if I could buy her a drink, but she’d already vanished like smoke. I paid for mine and moved away from the bar to unfold the slip of paper. It simply read:Some Gavit. 9am. I had to assume that was tomorrow. I was familiar with the large floating building on the Han River. It was iconic.
I tucked the paper into my purse and made for the stairs up to the balcony level. My heart was thudding all the way up into my throat. This could be exactly the breakthrough I needed. Or I could be walking right into a trap.
At the foot of the stairs was a rotund bouncer in front of a red rope. I clucked my tongue, certain he wouldn’t let me through. As I approached, he looked me up and down and before I could say a word, he lifted the rope and stood aside for me.
I smiled appreciatively and passed him, climbing the glass staircase carefully on my three inch heels. The mezzanine was full of F1 people; drivers, mechanics, PR people. I kept my head down and made straight for that last pod, hoping no one recognised me.
When I got to the pod, I slid the door open a crack and peeked inside. Aleks was sitting there, watching the door and a small smile tugged the corner of his mouth on seeing me. I slipped inside and closed the door.
The little pod glowed with slowly changing pink and blue lights.
“Hi,” he said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
“Hi,” I said with a grin. I put my wine on the table and slid onto the curved sofa beside him.
“You look gorgeous, very sparkly.”
“Thanks,” I said, suddenly embarrassed. “It’s not mine. I didn’t pack anything suitable for clubbing. So I had to borrow this.”
“Well, I would never have known.” He pulled me closer and captured my mouth with his. His arm snaked around my side, pulling my body flush with his. I wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and deepened the kiss. My heart was pounding for a whole new reason now. This was by far the biggest risk we’d taken, greater even than that first kiss in the Obsidian showroom. Anyone could walk in and catch us like this and what would that mean for both of us? My impartiality would be shot. He’d be considered to be fraternising with the enemy.
What we were doing was crazy, but the chemistry between us was too irresistible to fight.
I pulled back just enough to catch my breath. He rested his forehead lightly against mine, and for a moment we just breathed each other in. The thud of the bass from the dance floor below was muffled by the pod walls, like we’d stepped into a different world.
“Rough day?” he murmured, eyes half-lidded, fingers tracing idle patterns on my waist.
I laughed softly. “You have no idea.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
I shook my head. “Not even a little.”
“So what do you want?”
I looked at him—really looked at him. At the tension coiled in his shoulders, the desire simmering in those ice-blue eyes. And I realised I didn’t want answers, or leads, or logic.
I just wanted to feel something that wasn’t pressure.
