Page 52 of Off the Grid

“Thanks.” I give him the thumbs up. “Bedtime.”

“But it’s only two thirty,” Junior says, slapping a hand against my back.

“Exactly.” I take a sip of water in my hand. “You fuckers can keep going. I’ve got to sleep.” I wobble on my feet as the room does some weird Salvador Dali-like thing in my head. “Just make sure everyone’s out of here before you pass out.”

“Ah, man. What’s the fun in that?” Micah slurs through his smile. “We’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks and . . .” I try to find my words but my head is so fucking fuzzy. “Thank you for this. It was pretty damn cool of you.” I fist-bump both of them and stumble into my room.

Shut the door.

Fall into bed.

And then feel a warm and very naked woman slide up behind me.

Jesus fucking Christ.

F1 perks, indeed.

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Camilla

“I haven’t been here long enough to begin Operation Glow-Up. Can you give me at least a few more weeks?” I beg Gia who has been all over me today with texts and calls.

“You’re going to keep saying that. But I’m a tenacious bitch. I’m not going to let this go.” Her laugh is rich as it floats across the line.

“I know that. Believe me I know that. But I’m in the middle of so much chaos. Let me get my bearings before you start changing me.”

She sighs but I know she’s going to cave. “Fine. Whatever. But you know what would get me out of your hair?”

“What?”

“You do your own glow-up. Surprise us. Then we’d be so shocked we might forget about the setting you up part of our plan.”

“So bribe you then.”

“Whatever it takes. Or you can bribe me with one of your hot racers. I’ll gladly take one of them as a consolation prize.”

“You’re sick.”

“I know and I love it.”

“Goodbye, Gia.”

“Goodbye, love.”

I hang up the phone with a smile on my lips. A smile that sticks with me until the afternoon hits and my constant yawns replace it.

“Tired?”

“Exhausted.” I look up to Elise as she moves into the conference room where I’ve set up camp for the time being. Her hands are filled with folders, her laptop, and what seems to be her always-present Starbucks. She has a pencil tucked behind her ear and the myriad of bangles on her wrists clink together with every movement.

She’s stylish in the boho-chic way that I once attempted but never looked good in.

“How’d the meeting go?” I ask.