Page 92 of Over the Limit

“I’m not complaining about any of the above.”

He brushes his lips against mine. The kiss lingers and chills chase over my skin. “Come with me to Belgium, Tink.”

“You’re forgetting I was told not to.”

“Fuck Paolo,” he murmurs against my ear. “He said you weren’t allowed to be at the track.” He leans back and looks at me. “Go to the race with me. Work from the hotel. A different hotel away from the teams. We can work during the day, and I can steal my nights away with you. Out of the public eye. We can . . . just do nothing together.”

“Just like you said to me, I don’t want to be a distraction for you.”

“You’re not.” He cups my face with his hands. “You’re what centers me.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Blair

The private rental is just on the outskirts of the business district. Sounds from the city float up to its open windows where I sit with my laptop open and a list of last-minute . . . everything, in front of me.

“Thank you for the update,” Paolo says. The irony is I can hear the whine of the engines in the background from his place at the track and I itch to be there.

And it’s only miles away.

“Not a problem. I’m feeling confident that everything is in place as much as it can be for a month or so out.”

“And I’m hearing the same from your team. I don’t know how you’ve done it,” Paolo says, “but you’ve pulled together a group of people someone else selected and figured out how to lead them and their differences without so much as a blip on the radar.”

“That you’ve seen anyway,” I joke.

“Exactly. All that matters is what the outside has seen and from the outside, it looks like a seamless phalanx of productivity.”

I’ve been drowning in stress—in caterers who had the head count wrong, in needing to redesign the event space to accommodate the various cameras being placed, in logistics and timing—and the fact that no one else has seen or heard any of the problems is miraculous.

Stepping in to lead Lisa’s team hasn’t been without its trials and tribulations. Our managing style is different and so despite the initial growing pains, I was pleased that everyone adjusted. And once they realized I was here to help them as much as they were helping me, things became even smoother.

“Your team is doing a great job.”

“Thank you,” I say and then hesitate. “And as for Monica’s request.”

“Yes.” His sigh is how I feel. “I’m doing my best to accommodate at least a few of them, but I feel this is a gross overreach on her part. It’s not Tori’s team asking, it’s her. You’re not trying to get on her good side for something, are you?” He chuckles at the joke. “She doesn’t have a billionaire son you’re trying to win over?”

“You’re a real comedian, Paolo.”

“I know. I try.”

I end the call and move toward the window. Toward the wonderful city and its enticing sounds. It’s beautiful here—the city, the people, the culture—but even with all that, I know one I’d love to be looking at even more.

The track.

The grandstands.

The cars.

Lachlan.

The purr of the engines in my chest on race day has been a constant in my life for so long that it’s weird to have the television on, to see the cars moving on the track as they test but to not feel their horsepower rumbling through my body.

I’m here, but I feel so very far away.

CHAPTER THIRTY