Page 30 of Off the Grid

Haskell rushed out of here with his phone to his ear. Did he get the call?

Diego has shut himself in his driver’s room and is on the phone with someone.

My phone rings. I scramble and have it picked up before the second ring only to deflate. “Yeah? What’s up, Fontina?”

“Don’t sound so thrilled to hear from me.” She chuckles sarcastically.

“Sorry. It’s just . . . what did you need?”

“That video you did yesterday has gone viral. You keep this shit up, and I’m going to get fired, and you’re going to be driving and doing your own social media for the team.”

“Of course, it went viral. It’s me, isn’t it?” I joke, but I had no fucking clue.

I make a video. I post a video. I’m too fucking busy to sit there and watch the likes or views tick up one by one.

I’d much rather live life than watch it pass by on a screen.

And yet, I still post. I still contribute.

“You’re such an asshole.” She sighs.

“Thank you. That’s not anything new, now, is it?” I open my mouth to ask her if she’s heard anything but then snap it shut. If she had, she would have told me. She knows how badly I want this. Every driver in my shoes does.

“I mean, how did your comment to Flanders become a meme?”

“Comment?” I made a lot of comments. Some I’m not sure if I voiced or not.

“Yeah, the whole, if you’re trying to make a name for yourself, do it using someone else’s back.” She pauses. “You did know that, right?”

I chuckle. “No. I didn’t. I told you I’m not on social media much. But sure. Awesome. I’m all for anything that can keep that prick in his place.”

“I second that sentiment, but maybe next time we can work on it together so I can at least take some credit for it with the boss.”

“You want to film me getting out of the shower and my towel accidentally falling off? Be my guest.”

“Ew. Gross.” She overreacts as expected.

“Clearly it’s not so gross if millions have seen it, right?” I laugh. The video that I’m assuming went viral was more than just a hint at my body. It was a transition—me with a towel around my waist, the towel dropping, and when I picked it back up, I had my fire suit on and a megawatt grin. If girls can do Get Ready With Me segments, why can’t guys?

Obviously, it did the trick.

“Millions. Ha. If you haven’t seen it, how do you know how many views there are, huh?”

“I don’t. Just a guess and by your reaction, it’s a correct one.”

“If your ego gets any bigger, we’re going to need to upsize your helmet.”

“Just a warning. Don’t check my DMs. It’s like the crazies unleashed themselves this week.”

“He doesn’t watch the videos, but he checks his direct messages. I’m beginning to think you’re lying, Riggs.”

“I like to keep you guessing. But seriously, don’t check them.”

“Ugh. Worse than normal?”

“You don’t want to know.” I’m all for pics being sent in—what guy wouldn’t be? But I draw the line at seeing things put in places that shouldn’t be there.

There’s something to be said for leaving something a bit of a mystery.