“Back to something more titillating…” Keith smiles. “How good was Asher?”
I grin. “Alady never tells.”
The niggle of doubt from earlier doesn’t disappear, though—and it’s compounded by broad doubt in the male species as a whole.
Delilah is looking at leaving her firm because there’s an asshole senior partner who’s mad at her for not being receptive to his advances. While I don’t believe Asher wouldeverbehave himself inappropriately or ignore the rules of consent… he could still tank my career if I don’t help him get to where he wants to go.
Jumping from 22ndto 13thplace is a huge and incredibly impressive achievement, and I’m confident he’ll break top 10. But once he’sinthe top 10, getting a podium is another game altogether. I’m not sure if an upgrade package combined with my program and Asher’s talent will be enough to get him there.
And what destruction will he wreak if I fail?
Chapter Forty-Two
Asher
“No.” I don’t even wait to hear what Elio has to say; I breeze right past him when I see him opening his mouth to spew some bullshit, heading to my car. It’s parked in the garage at the back of HQ, alongside rows of other less-impressive vehicles belonging to other employees.
“Prick,” I hear Elio mutter under his breath. Then, the moron has the audacity tochase after me.
I go about my business as if he weren’t there, unlocking my car and dropping my bag in the back seat. Despite my best efforts to ignore his existence, Elio hovers a few feet away from me. I can practically see the steam coming out of his ears as he silently fumes. It’s only mildly satisfying.
When I open the driver’s door, he steps forward and slams it shut for me. I inhale a deep breath, trying to temper my anger.
Victoria wouldn’t be happy if I slammed his hand in the car door. But the idea isso fucking tempting. Especially after she spent all afternoonand eveningrunningsimulations with him. Technically, he has the right to request her services, but I don’t give a fuck about technicalities when it comes to her.
She’s mine, and I donotshare well.
I’ve never been overly fond of Elio, but for the most part, I’ve seen him as the irritating sellout who’s willing to trade anything for a spot on an F1 team—including his dignity. After my disastrous attempt at trying to clear the air between us, I actively dislike him—which makesnotbeing an asshole all the more difficult.
I’m not being nice by ignoring him, but I’m also not going out of my way to insult him, which I see as a major improvement. I was insulting him even when I was mostly indifferent about him.
“Stop being such a raging asshole for ten seconds,” Elio hisses. “I want to talk.”
“And I want to take a trip to Mars. Neither scenario seems likely.”
“Look, I don’t like you, and you don’t like me. I don’t expect that to ever change,” Elio starts.
“Correction: I don’t give a shit about you, while you actively want me gone. Bit of a disparity in thedislikes, if you ask me.”
“I’mnotasking you,” Elio snaps. “But Gaston will suffer if we stay like we are.”
“That’s a factual statement,” I allow. This team won’t be doing anything crazy for itself this season—we’re too far behind, too low on points—but if I get a podium this season, it might set myself and Gaston up for successnextseason—if Elio can stop smiling for cameras and start fucking driving.
And if I’m still here next season. I intend to stay in F1, but there’s a chance I’ll end up leaving the team—especially if everyone continues hating me. I’d rather not hang around where I’m not wanted.
Does that mean I’d lose Victoria?I hadn’t considered that before. My only response to that isfuckno.
“So, let’s try to ease up the mutual dislike.” Elio’s jaw tightens, and my eyes narrow. Why the hell is he trying to give me an olive branch? “You’re a…gooddriver,” he grits out. The wordgoodsounds like it’s torn out of him. “Even if that’s only recently become evident and is probably a fluke,” he can’t help but add. “I’m willing to work to become a better driver than what I am now, and I think…” he grits his teeth. “I think we could help each other.”
I raise my eyebrows. “That sounds like it took alotof effort.”
“Fuck you.”
“Not even if that was the condition to double my salary. What makes you think we’d tolerate each other? You made it clear you want me gone.”
“I might’ve been a bit harsh when we went to lunch. In my defense, I had years of shit to get off my chest.”
“And what’s changed?”
