“Okay.”
I’ve avoided mentioning it for a week in case she’d see I’m not ready. I square my jaw. “It seemed like a good idea, but now I can’t take it back.”
“I’ll do everything to help. In the meantime, I spoke with Connor’s and Tawny’s assistants about what they need as drivers. Regular physio would do wonders for your stress. Maybe an osteopath, too, as you said your headaches weren’t unusual. These therapies involve touch, so it’s something to work up to.”
“You’re good.”
She shrugs, but her smile gives me relief from my anxiety.
“I can’t believe you’ve only been here two weeks, Rosie.”
“Just think what I’ll achieve in six months. We’ll conquer the world, and you’ll be driving professionally again.”
Hope fills my chest.
“In six months, you’ll be bored,” I tease. “You’ll insist on travelling with the team, although it’s not all champagne lunches and private jets.”
She fiddles with her blouse. Light glints off something around her neck, but she shifts her collar, quickly hiding it.
“I’d be happy with soda and something other than Peppa Pig.” She stifles a yawn. “Don’t worry, I won’t ever cost you by asking to attend races.”
“Not Silverstone? You’d see our cars in action without leaving the country.”
She shrugs but doesn’t make eye contact, staring at the cuff of her blouse. “Maybe Silverstone, but it’s difficult with Tabi.”
I don’t want to pry, but I don’t want to ignore her needs, either. “Is it okay to ask about her?”
She chews her lip, and I take a breath.
“Don’t worry. It’s none of my business. You’re the perfect assistant. Your home life is private, and that’s for the best.” Oh shit. That came out grumpily.
She cringes and scratches at her cuff.
I grip my desk. “Sorry for making you uncomfortable.”
She gives me those big Disney princess eyes, and my breath sticks in my throat.
“You didn’t. Have I done something weird?” she stutters.
My sister tells me I’m too confrontational at times. I used to be, but at least with a bit more humour and charm. These days I sound like an arsehole, yet I still say, “You keep picking at your clothes. I presumed it was something I’d said or done and...”
She drops her arms to her side, and her eyes pinch as she stares at me.
Shit. Shit. Shit. “Sorry. I crossed a line.”
She pauses in the doorway. “I’m just…It doesn’t matter.”
“Sorry, Rosie. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“I wasn’t born with lots of money to get the perfect outfit. Senna said I wouldn’t have to wear smart clothes all the time, but I’m not sure she said the same to you, and I’m trying to make a good impression. Never mind. I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”
She walks to the ladies’ bathroom before I can reassure her she doesn’t need to change anything for me.
I don’t know how to improve things. I lift my phone to call someone, anyone.
“Senna, I need your help.”
CHAPTER 21
