Etienne shrugged, boyish pride lighting his face. “Mia’s fault.She’s been drilling me on media answers for weeks. I actually sound like I know what I’m talking about now.”
Lucas’s gaze shifted back to Mia, the tension easing slowly as he watched the easy, sibling-like way Etienne leaned toward her—like a little brother seeking approval, not a lover staking a claim. The jealousy faded, replaced by reluctant understanding. Nothing there. Just work. Just trust.
“She’s good at that,” Lucas said, voice softening.
Mia felt the old ease slip back between them, effortless and aching. “You were impossible at first,” she said, half-laughing despite the knot in her throat. “Remember Silverstone? You went live on the team channel and called the strategy ‘a complete shitshow’ before I could cut the feed.”
Lucas winced, then chuckled—a real one, low and warm. “I still owe you for that one. You had to spend three days putting out fires.”
“Four,” she corrected, smiling despite herself, the memory pulling at her heart. “But you learned. Eventually.”
They were both laughing now—quiet, shared memory—and for a second the lobby faded. Just the two of them remembering how hard it had been, how good it had felt when it finally clicked. The air between them thickened, charged with the remnants of what they’d been.
Then a soft voice cut through.
“Lucas?”
Sienna appeared from the direction of the bar, elegant in a simple cream dress, hair loose over her shoulders. She slipped her hand into Lucas’s without hesitation, smiling brightly at Mia and Etienne.
“Hi,” she said, extending her other hand to Mia. “I’m Sienna. You must be Mia. I’ve heard… well, a lot.”
Mia shook her hand—warm, firm, friendly. But the touch sent a jolt through her: jealousy, sharp and unwelcome, twisting in her gut. Not because Sienna was cruel or smug; she wasn’t. She was just… there. Oblivious in the gentle way people are when they’re happy and secure. She looked at Lucas like he was hers, and he let her. Mia’s chest tightened, the old ache flaring bright.
“Nice to finally meet you properly,” Mia said, her voice steady but her heart pounding.
Sienna tilted her head, smile genuine. “I’ve seen you in the paddock before. Back when Lucas and I were first together. You were always so good with him—kept him out of trouble. I remember thinking you two had a… thing. Not in a bad way. Just… you got him. I never really did.” She laughed softly, self-aware. “Media made it sound like you broke us up. I know that’s rubbish. We were already done. But the headlines love a story.”
Mia swallowed. “They do.”
Sienna squeezed Lucas’s hand, oblivious to the undercurrent. “Anyway. It’s nice to put a face to the name properly. You’re doing great with Ascari. Etienne’s looking sharp.”
“Thanks,” Mia managed.
The awkwardness settled like dust. Etienne excused himself with a quick “Gonna grab a protein shake—see you tomorrow, boss,” leaving the three of them in the quiet lobby hum.
Then footsteps—loud, familiar. Jax appeared from the bar corridor, coffee in one hand, grin splitting his face.
“There’s my podium buddy!” He slapped Lucas on the back hard enough to make him wince. “And—wait, is that Mia Brookes? In the flesh?”
Mia laughed despite herself. “In the flesh.”
Jax threw an arm around her shoulders—loose, brotherly. “You’re looking too good for this place. Ascari treating you right?”
“Better than Ashworth ever did,” she teased.
Jax clutched his chest. “Ouch. Straight to the heart.” He glanced at Sienna, then Lucas, then back to Mia—quick, assessing. “Right. I’m interrupting something. I’ll leave you to it.”
He squeezed Mia’s shoulder once—gentle, reassuring—then clapped Lucas on the back again.
He walked off whistling.
Sienna laughed softly. “He’s fun.”
“He is,” Mia agreed.
Lucas’s eyes lingered on the spot where Jax had disappeared. Then back to Mia. The tension eased—just a fraction.
Mia prompted, voice soft, “I’ve been dying to ask—how are the wedding plans coming along?”
