Page 45 of Off the Grid

“Glad you’re on board. I’m excited to get you on the ground and running. Now, let’s talk schedule . . .”

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CHAPTER TWELVE

Riggs

She’s distracting.

Her perfume. Her pouty lips. Her no-nonsense quips that she thinks show me how tough she is but in reality, show me she’s still interested.

And I think that’s going to be a problem.

Because there’s nothing worse than a woman fighting against something she actually wants. It makes her irrational. Catty. Determined to win when she’s only fighting against herself.

I won’t deny she’s alluring though. The first moment I saw her in the bar, I was intrigued. Light brown eyes framed by thick lashes. Her dark hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail suggesting she’s all business.

My fingers twitch as I’m reminded what it felt like with her hand gripped in it.

I’ll give it to her. She’s pretty in that sophisticated, classy way. Enough that I’m curious about what’s beneath all those baggy clothes. Not that it matters. She’s the boss’s daughter, and I know boundaries. This opportunity is too important to me to get distracted.

It’s a shame though, as she did have the balls to confront me in front of my friends.

I can at least respect her for that and for her sly digs during this conversation. Do I deserve them? Yeah. Probably. But fuck if a guy can’t have a little fun at a bar. No doubt she and her friends were looking at guys and guessing how big their dicks were and possibly dismissing them because of their assumptions. So isn’t that kind of the same thing?

And if I had known who she was—a bloody Moretti—I probably wouldn’t have tried to use her to win the dare.

Fuck that. I’m lying to myself, I would have. She was equal-opportunity bait just when I needed her to be. No qualms about it. Just like there’s no lying to myself that the woman most definitely knows how to kiss.

Like top five out of way more than I can count type of kissing. Is it bad that just the memory of it and the sight of her before me has my dick growing hard beneath the table?

“In other words, a recovery without any date as of right now.”

I pull my thoughts back to the room. Back to Carlo Moretti and his statements regarding Maxim’s injuries. Things I can’t think about or dwell on before climbing behind the same wheel my friend just got seriously injured behind. “He’s tough as nails. He’ll pull through. Hopefully he’ll have no lasting effects from it.”

“At least we can say we know our cars are as safe as can be. We can’t control fire, though.”

“Every drivers’ nightmare.”

“Enough about the scary stuff.” He claps his hands together and then clasps them. Camilla whips her head up at the sound, her eyes immediately searching over her father. Something about her look strikes me as odd, but I let it go and meet Carlo’s kind smile. “So you have everything you need, then?”

“I think I do. Thank you. I’m just . . . taking it all in.”

He nods, his smile nostalgic. “It’s an easy thing to do in this building that holds so much of our history. Make sure you take a walk around, soak it all in.”

“I will. Thank you.”

He glances to Camilla, holds her look for a beat. Something exchanges between them I can’t quite read before he looks back to me. “As far as I’m concerned, when you step on that grid for the first time as an F1 driver, your slate is wiped clean. A fresh start. We don’t look in rearview mirrors at Moretti. We only look forward. If we all had our pasts held over our heads, not a single person would ever get the chance to move forward. Mistakes are made so we can learn from them.”

“Yes, sir,” I say, emotion so damn thick in my throat it almost hurts to swallow over it. There were a lot of things I expected to happen today, this most definitely wasn’t it.

Our gazes hold, the grace he’s giving me more than acknowledged and appreciated.

“Good. I’m glad we have that cleared up. So go explore the showroom. Become a witness to our history. The history we want you to be a part of. You only get to have so many firsts in life.” Carlo winks. “This is one where you need to step back, pause, and let it sink in . . . because your life is about to get crazy.”

I nod, already liking this soft-spoken man whose presence is like a giant in the room. It takes me a second to find any words at all. “Thank you, sir. I will.”

“Now if you’ll excuse me, Halle keeps waving at me through the window. I think I’m needed elsewhere for something I’m certain someone else can make a decision on.” He rises slowly from his seat. “See you at the track. I look forward to watching your testing session.”