“You are a male in a patriarchal sport. You can do whatever you wish, Dad.” Frankie tilts her head back toward me. “Anyway, great job out there, James. Did it feel as good as it looked?”
She is fighting a blush because she knows as well as I do her words are a lot of double entendres that only she and I understand, like a private joke. “I’m sure it looked incredible. But I can assure you it felt even better than you could imagine.”
“Okay then.” Frankie smiles. “I expect nothing less than a podium tomorrow.”
She slugs me merrily on the arm again and gives my mum a friendly nod and says, “Nice to see you again, Ms. Buckingham,” before walking away.
Adelaide walks in and waves at Bash, who leaves me to be with his wife. He calls a quick good-bye over his shoulder at me and my mother, who is frowning. Bash definitely didn’t notice. His eyes are on Adelaide, and no one else in the crowded lounge.
“Are you staying here to find someone else to flirt with or are you leaving? Because I need a lift back to the hotel. I let Clara go ahead without me.”
Mum frowns again. This is becoming a habit. “That woman… must be nice to just seize your car whenever the whim hits her.”
“She isn’t seizing anything.” I level her with a warning glare. “She’s my sister, and siblings share.”
“William Thomas James!” She hisses my entire name so I know how very angry she is in this second. And it is only a second. She relaxes moments later and smiles tightly as her eyes bounce around the room to make sure no one heard me spill the family secret. “You shared a sperm donor. And no one ever needs to know that. I understand we’re saving your father the embarrassment, and he doesn’t deserve it. But I do. I would be devastated and humiliated beyond comprehension if the world knew that I was used and swindled by that man.”
Her blue eyes well up like they always do when she is forced to confront the reality of her marriage. Man, it’s been years and as much as she hates Tommy James, she is also still so wounded by his actions. “I can’t… Haven’t I been through enough?”
In the decade since Tommy was killed racing in the French Grand Prix, Clara’s mother Shiloh was about the only woman not to go public with her extra-marital involvement with him. Four other women have sold their sordid stories to tabloids. All claiming the affairs happened in the first five years he was married to Mum. This is the only reason she hasn’t crumbled emotionally under the whispers and sneers. Because the media spins it like Tommy married too young and therefore had some indiscretion, but in the end, he stayed with and devoted himself to Sherry Buckingham and their little boy Billy. The truth is he stopped cheating when he met Shiloh and had Clara. It was her he was being faithful to in his later years, not my mum. God knows what she will do if the world finds out the truth.
“Okay, Mum. Okay.” I lean in and wrap my arm around her shoulder. “Where are you staying?”
“The Ritz.”
Frankie’s hotel. I smile. This is perfect. “Let’s go have dinner at your hotel okay? Just the two of us?”
She sniffs discreetly and nods. We walk out of the lounge and start down the stairs to the main level. Mum seems to perk up a little. “Bash’s girls are just so cute, aren’t they?”
“Frankie and Lucia?’ I ask for some reason because who the hell else would she be talking about. “Do you mean cute, looks-wise? Because that would be an understatement.”
“Well, I mean of course they’re stunning. Mirabella was just gorgeous and Bash is… well he’s as handsome as they get,” Sherry says as we hit the landing. “But I mean they’re cute as in adorable. The way she punched your arm all sweet and cute. I think she might have a little crush.”
“Mum… that’s conjecture,” I mutter, but inside I’m like a grade school boy clinging to the idea with blind hope. God, does Frankie have a crush? Does she like me for more than just my sexual compatibility with her? I shouldn’t want her to, but I do.
“I’m just saying… there are worse girls whose garage you could be parking your car in,” Mum replies airily, and I cringe.
“That is the worst pun ever,” I tell her flatly. “And also, I do not want you thinking about where I park my car.”
Mum laughs. “Billy honey, you can’t be single forever. And I would rather you strategically pick a mate than be trapped with one because you accidentally knock someone up. Like how Bash is trapped.”
She says the last four words under her breath in a stage whisper so only I hear. I swivel my head so fast I almost pull a muscle. “What the hell are you talking about? Bash is far from trapped. He was the one who pursued Adelaide. And they’re very happy together.”
“Uh-huh. She’s pregnant, so whether they’re happy or not, he’s now trapped,” Sherry whispers back.
I stop walking as soon as we reach the main level hallway. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Oh. It’s not public yet? I thought when she told me…” Mum shrugged. “Oopsie.”
“Adelaide Castera told you she was pregnant?” I am in utter disbelief, but then my mind flashes to how she has been wearing more than her average amount of loose cotton hippie dresses and the way Bash cradled her stomach that day in the elevator in San Sebastian… why didn’t I figure that out? “Why is she telling you and not anyone else?”
“I found her puking in the bathroom off the lounge during the qualifying,” Mum explains. “She’s having a hard first trimester. I think that’s karma for forcing Bash into a baby at his age.”
“Shh!” I demand. I feel like if this was public news, Frankie would have mentioned it. Or Bash. Someone. And I do not want the racing world to find out from my mother.
“Okay, take a chill pill Billy.” Mum laughs at her own antiquated expression. “We can go back to talking about how cute the Castera girls are.”
I groan, and that just makes her laugh again as we walk toward the back of the building where my dressing room is. “It’s like you’re a twelve-year-old boy again, and I’m bugging you about that crush you had on Sofia Muldoon,” she says. My mother loves to tease me. About everything. All the time. “You wouldn’t ask her to dance. You were so shy. I hope you ask girls to dance now, Billy. I need a grandbaby one day. And that Frankie Castera looks like a good dancer. I follow her on the ‘Gram.”
