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“I don’t know. You tell me.” A ghost of a smile lifts his lips.

Surprise has me frowning. “You’ve never taken a girl on a date.”

“Not in any way that mattered.”

He hasn’t done this either. That makes me feel better.

“Well, I should at least try the dress on,” I decide.

The dress fits perfectly. Thin straps, long with a slit up one side, silk that skims my curves. There’s an attendant who helps with my hair and makeup. By the time the plane lands, Jameson’s in a suit. For a guy who does his best work on the track, he looks unbelievably sexy in formal wear.

Somehow, I’m more nervous than I was before. It’s one thing to be in this messy relationship with Jameson, another to have him take me out on an official date.

A fancy, out-of-my-depth date.

But soon we’re being whisked away by a limo to a car dealership. The entire ride over I’m aware of the feel of the silk fabric on my skin. I barely have time to drool over the showroom of exotics before the owner is shaking Jameson’s hand and murmuring in hushed tones.

Jameson considers, then shakes his head. He nods toward the front of the showroom. The owner passes him a key fob with both hands.

“Ferrari SF90,” I say as I follow Jameson into the showroom.

“The closest thing to a race car while being street legal,” he confirms, rounding to open the passenger door for me.

That tracks. “And we’re going where, exactly?”

“Dinner at the Bellagio.”

My stomach growls, this time with hunger. It’s already dark and we’re heading toward the Strip, which I’ve only seen on TV. It rises up out of the desert like a neon midway.

It’s awe-inspiring and a little terrifying how easily the world opens for him.

I’m still staring out the window when Jameson gets a call.

“Yes. No. I told you, I’m in Vegas, I can’t…” He hangs up on a grunt.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s an F1 event tonight at the Wynn. Luca wants me to stop by.”

Disappointment fills me at the idea of Luca interrupting our date, but this is Jameson’s father. The family company. “Of course.”

“It would only be for a few minutes.” He hesitates. “Will you go with me?”

I blink at him. The fact that he wants me at his side has me nervous in a different way.

I can’t pretend to be his engineer. Not wearing this dress, this jewelry.

“Yes,” I decide.

The tension on his face relaxes as I reach for his hand and he squeezes back. We stay like that, fingers linked, the entire way to the venue.

“Why does he want you there?” I ask as we head up to the ballroom in a blur of lights and glitter and beautiful people.

“Something about instilling confidence despite this baseless Dekker claim.”

“You’re sure it’s baseless.” I want to believe him, and Jameson glances over. “I just mean it was weird how his performance dipped right after the summer break without any huge changes to the car.”

“Teams don’t sacrifice performance for no reason. My father and the rest of ARI leadership don’t agree on everything, but they all want to win.” He says it as if he’s thought about it.