Page 26 of Break My Heart

“Where else?”

“Want to stay at the house?”

I smile faintly. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

His eyes soften with love. “Pumpkin, you are always welcome to stay there.”

The waiter comes by, dropping our extra cheese, half sausage pizza on the table without comment.

After he leaves, my father stares at me intently. Waiting. Not for details about my new assignment, but for confirmation of who I’ll be working with. As he’s plating my first slice, I tell him about the charity gala I need to attend. “I’m looking forward to running into all your friends.”

My father’s lips curve. “Be prepared to hear, ‘You’ve grown so much!’”

I roll my eyes.

Then, he wonders, “Do you think Apex knows who you are?”

“You mean your daughter?”

“Yes.”

“Unlikely. The contract was signed between my boss and the team director—Dario Morretti—who never once indicated he knew Christin Gage is Christin Porter.”

“Are you sure? I used to race with Morretti’s father.” He reaches for a slice of pizza that had just been set next to us without fanfare.

After he serves me, I sprinkle extra parmesan and garlic on my piece. “Did you?”

“Yes. And if his son is worth half of him, he knows who you are, Pumpkin,” he cautions. “Makes me wonder if your ex knows as well.”

“Truthfully, I care more about this pizza than if the Apex Orion team figured out who I am.” To prove my point, I shove the pointy end of the slice into my mouth and chew.

“Why did you two break up?” he probes.

I’m honestly surprised it took him this long to ask. “He said some things that hurt me. Leo told Dario I wouldn’t stand out.” The bile rising in my throat because I’m admitting something like this to my world-renowned father makes my appetite vanish.

My words must shock him because he unintentionally drops his slice down. Instead of exploding, he goes very still.

Uh-oh. This is going to be bad, I think to myself. I try to defuse his anger. “He didn’t know I was there.”

“Doesn’t matter. If anything, that makes it worse,” my father snaps.

“Dad—‍”

“So, you’re going to spend months saving his chicken shit ass?”

I can’t help but grin. The years of my father touring around the F1 circuit didn’t excavate his Georgia roots. If anything, it made him cling to them tighter as he won championship after championship. I confide, “I threw him out of Mom’s house. Didn’t care how he left, just that he did.”

“Good!” His voice booms. Then he leans forward and lays his hand over mine. “You are not what he made you feel.”

Tears well in my eyes. I refuse to let them fall. “I’m choosing to set aside what he said.”

“What? Why?”

“You remember what it’s like for me to deal with clients, right? Most of them are awful.” I rattle off some of my least favorites.

“So, you think it won’t be a problem to work with Leo?”

“No.” My answer lies between us. “I won’t treat him any differently.”