LILY

Two hours later, I'm alone in the makeshift office at the paddock, feeling a tiny bit better. One of the first things the crew assembles is the office pod, which kind of looks like a modular classroom or a mobile home. All I care about is that it's air conditioned in this Texas heat.

Now that Max isn't nearby — he and Esteban have a meet-and-greet with sponsors at a restaurant downtown — I feel much more like my old self.

Organized, purposeful, and in control. I've already talked with Anh; she's going to this "Boots & BBQ" party tonight, and I can't wait to see her. And Mom texts with good news: Dad's met with a nutritionist and is in good spirits. My weird parents are apparently getting along well.

Don't worry about us, dear. Dad says to focus on the team.

She then sent a selfie of the two of them. A half hour later I spot the same photo on her Instagram. Which is probably good because the press will pick it up and dissect her caption, taking the heat off me for a but.

"Whatever works for them," I murmur at my phone, then turn back to a lengthy recap written by Jack of the last race. Esteban needs to work on his focus, the team needs to prioritize tweaking the engine.

In reality, Jack writes, we're not entirely certain how to unleash the potential for Max's car. Max's driving is in top form but we need to slice and dice the data, which isn't correlating with what Max is feeling and experiencing when actually behind the wheel.

I take a minute to absorb this. When winning Formula World races, sometimes it all comes down to milliseconds. Sometimes it's driver performance, like breaking a fraction of a second too late. Other times it's the car and tuning it just so to get the most out of the combined petrol internal combustion engine and electric motors. Then there's the team and the pit stops, and if someone fumbles during a tire change, it can change the course of the race.

Those aren't my decisions, though – it's why we pay top dollar and brilliant engineers to craft the perfect car. I'm merely Dad's eyes and ears. Still, I love the sport and want to know what's going on. I love the technical details of the sport, and that's one of the reasons why I went to work for the racing game designer. I was able to be around the sport, but not in it.

As I'm going over a memo discussing at length which tires should be used for the race in six days, there's a knock on the flimsy office door.

"Come in," I call out.

Tanya saunters through the door, holding a clipboard and a cell.

"Hey there." I move my bag off a seat and she plunks down.

"You look happier," she says.

"Feeling much better. I've spent the last few hours reading through reports, getting up to speed. I think I can do this."

"Of course you can. And I have some good news. The press release about you and your father is getting great play, and your mother's statement and photo on Instagram are playing well. We're also seeing a lot of positive reaction to you taking over the team. Temporarily, of course. But ESPN is already speculating about what it would be like to have you as the owner of your father's team. They're saying more women need to lead the sport. Even Savannah Jenkins weighed in."

"What did she say?"

"That she'd welcome you as competition."

I lean back in my chair, laughing. "Well, it's true that the sport needs more women, but I'm probably not the woman to lead the charge."

Tanya's eyes twinkle. "We'll see about that. So, about the schedule. Tonight, at the Boots and BBQ event, you'll be meeting with the TelecomCo rep. That's a big one, since they're our largest sponsor and their company headquarters are here in Austin. I'll be there, and so will Esteban and a few team engineers."

Whew. At least I won't be around Max. I'm not sure if I can handle watching him flirt his way through a dinner party. "Attire?"

She flips a few pages on her legal pad. "They've rented an authentic and well-reviewed taqueria, so I'd say business casual. In Texas that means jeans and a blouse, I'm told. Nothing formal. I have my intern out buying boots for you now. The event begins in a couple of hours, so I suggest you shower and change here at the track in the team locker room. I'll clear the space. Saturday's the big pre-race bash."

I stare longingly at my suitcase in the corner. We'd come here directly from the airport, and I needed to freshen up and change. "Damn, I was hoping to get to the hotel and unwind a bit before any social obligations."

"Yeah about that. We have an issue."

"What kind of issue?"

Her lips pull into a grimace. "There's a problem with the hotel."

"Okay..."

"You don't have a room. Well, at least not for tonight. We think we can secure one at the team hotel for tomorrow through Monday."

"Wait, what? Why?"

"There was a mix-up, and our travel person cancelled your father's registration because of his situation—"

Just then, the door flies open. Tanya and I look up to see Max in the doorway. He's still wearing sunglasses, looking impossibly cool.

"Hallo," he says cheerfully. "Sorry to interrupt. I wanted to tell you how today's photo session went."

I twirl a lock of my hair around my finger. "Um, we're a little busy. We kind of have a situation."

"Okay, I'll wait." Max sits in the only other available chair and takes out his phone.

I try to catch Tanya's eye, as if to silently say, WTF, but she ignores him and me. Maybe this is business as usual — I could see my father encouraging his drivers to lounge around his office, so I'm going to roll with it.

Still, Max's mere presence inspires a physical reaction in me. It's as if my skin tingles when he's nearby, like he's a pleasurable magnetic force field. It doesn't help that he's changed, probably due to the photo shoot. He's in perfectly-fitted, well-faded jeans, a tight black T-shirt, and black sneakers. On any other man the outfit would look plain, but on him, its irresistible. He slides his sunglasses off and his bright blue eyes look me up and down.

I'm sure I'm blushing, so I turn in Tanya's direction. "Anyway. What were you saying about the hotel room?"

"The Plaza's fully booked for tonight. Your father normally gets a suite, along with the two drivers."

"I don't need a suite. Any room will do. A closet is fine. I'm not picky."

"There are no other rooms at The Plaza. Everything's booked solid."

"I'm sure there are other hotels in Austin."

"All booked."

"Every one? That seems improbable."

"Well, unless you want to stay at a Motel 8 an hour away." Tanya purses her lips. "We need you closer. I guess we could ask someone to bunk with someone else."

I let out a sigh. The last thing I want to do during my first week with the team is disrupt their sleeping accommodations. That will only make me seem like a diva, but what other choice do I have?

"It's only for tonight?"

"Yeah, the hotel is going to bump someone tomorrow, so you can have the suite."

"I guess if we have to bump—"

"I have a suite. You can stay in mine." Max leans forward, his elbows on his knees.

"Where are you going to stay?" I twirl in my chair to stare at him.

He raises his eyebrows. "In the suite."

I can't believe he's proposing this. "Oh, God no. You of all people need to rest during race week."

Back when he first started in Formula World, Max had trouble on the track because he didn't get enough sleep. He used to be one of those people who couldn't sleep well in new places and traveling around the world made it nearly impossible for him to get much needed rest. That detail even made the tabloids at one point, and in his home country, the press dissected his sleep habits before and after every race. That would've annoyed me, but he just let it roll off his back like water to a duck.

"It's no trouble at all. I have a big room. Surely, we can find a space for you for tonight."

Tanya's face lights up like a Christmas tree. The idea of Max and I staying together in a hotel room is either titillating or thrilling to her, I can't tell which.

I swallow hard. "I don't know—"

"That's the best and easiest solution, because I don't have time to deal with such a minor problem." Tanya says, standing up. "Of course, we'll keep this between us, because if that gets out then the press will have a field day. But thankfully the penthouse suites are on the top floor and accessible only to a few people, with security. We'll get you a key to Max's room, and you can bunk there. I'll have your bags delivered now. And that way, when we move you over to a suite tomorrow, it's less hassle because it's right next door."

Before I can protest, Tanya's walking out, directing Max to follow her so he can sign photos of himself for fans.

Max gives a little wave goodbye and when the door closes, I ease back into my seat. Things are going well, and now, I'm about to spend the night under the same roof with the man I've loved for years.

Well. This escalated quickly.

___