I see the Rybell building up ahead in the distance, and I start to bounce in my seat with excitement.
I’m not weird. This is just my thing.
You know how some girls get excited at the prospect of going shopping for shoes? Well, I get that way around cars, especially race cars.
I spent the better part of my life around a Formula 1 garage and the second half of it with my cousins back home, working on their cars.
I was practically raised in garage, a Formula 1 garage to be precise, so to me, this is like coming home.
“Andi…”
Uncle John’s voice pulls my attention from the view to him.
“I haven’t asked this yet, and I just want to check…are you feeling okay about this?”
“Yeah. Sure I am.” I give him a confused smile.
“I just…I know my first time being back in the garage after losing your dad…it was hard.”
Ah, right.
My smile fades a little. “I’m okay. It was a long time ago, and it’s not like I haven’t been back to the tracks since it happened.”
Each time Uncle John was in Brazil for the Grand Prix, he got me tickets to go and watch. Granted, it was a little different, being a spectator in the stands than being a part of it, but I’m sure I’ll be fine.
“I know. I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay before we go in.”
“I’m okay.” I give his arm a reassuring pat.
Uncle John pulls down the private road, taking us to Rybell.
“Here we are.” He pulls into the parking lot outside the building. It’s a big white purpose-made building. Rybell itself is owned by a few major shareholders and headed by CEO Pierce Vose. He was a driver himself back in the day, not for Rybell though. Pierce and my dad drove on the same team in the early days of their racing careers.
Uncle John parks his car, and I follow him inside the building, walking through as he holds the door open for me.
“Morning, Liz.” Uncle John lifts a hand in greeting to the forty-something blonde-haired lady behind the reception desk.
I see the way her eyes light up when she sees him. I think someone has a thing for Uncle John. Understandable. He’s a good-looking guy and in great shape for a man approaching fifty.
“Liz, this is Andi Amaro, our new mechanic.”
“Oh.” Her brow lifts to her hairline. Then, she stands from her seat, reaching over the desk to greet me. “Well, hello, Andi. It’s nice to meet you.” She tilts her head to the side, hands going on her hips, as she assesses me with her eyes. “So…you’re our new mechanic?”
“I am.” I give a tight smile.
“Well, you’re definitely not what I was expecting.”
Huh?
I see her give Uncle John a look, and he frowns.
“Come on. Let me show you around,” Uncle John says, trying to usher me away by the elbow.
“Andi, can I just get you to sign in before you go through?” Liz says to me.
“Of course.” Picking up the pen from the desk, I scribble my name down on the sign-in sheet.
“Bye, John,” she says in a saccharine voice.
He lifts a hand as he walks toward the door.
“Nice to meet you,” I say to Liz.
I follow through the door that Uncle John is holding open. “What was that about?” I ask him as soon as the door’s closed.
He gives me a confused look. “What was what about?”
“The you’re-definitely-not-what-I was-expecting comment.”
“Nothing.” He looks away, shifty.
“Uncle John.” I put my hand on his arm, stopping him.
“Fine,” he huffs out. “I might have failed to mention to people that you’re a…well, that you’re a girl.”
What?
“I’m not a girl. I’m a woman. And why would you do that?”
“Because I knew Pierce wouldn’t give you the job if he knew you were a woman.”
“Why not?” Jesus, I know Formula 1 can be a little on the sexiest side, but not hiring someone because of their gender would be unethical and a little on the illegal side.
Uncle John blows out a breath. “Because of Carrick. God knows, I love that boy, but…he has an eye for the women.”
“I’m aware of that, as is any other person who reads the news. But just because I’m female doesn’t mean I’m going to shag him.”
“I know that, but Pierce doesn’t. And because of a little incident that happened a few weeks ago, and is still burning up the tabloids here, Pierce will want to keep all forms of possible temptation away from Carrick.”
“What kind of incident?”
“Well, you know how your job suddenly became open?”
“Carrick shagged the last mechanic? No, hang on. Wasn’t he a guy? Does Carrick swing both ways?”
“No, thank God. Otherwise, he’d be a worse bloody nightmare to control than he already is. No, Rich—the guy who had your job—had been with us for three years. When our front-of-house girl left to have her baby, Rich’s girlfriend, Charlotte, got the job.”
I can see where this is going.
“Rich caught Carrick and Charlotte here one night, having—” Uncle John stops short of the word.
“Sex. You can say it. I’m not ten, Uncle John.” I laugh.
His cheeks redden as he chuckles with the discomfort that only a person who still sees you as a kid can.
“So, yeah, Carrick was at it with Charlotte in the director’s suite, Rich caught them, and it was a bloody nightmare. They got into a fight. Thankfully, Owen—Carrick’s dad—and I were still here even though it was late at night. Rich quit, and he dumped Charlotte. She didn’t seem too cut up about it since she thought she was going to get more from Carrick.”
“But she didn’t?”
He lets out a rumbling laugh. “Carrick doesn’t give more. She was lucky to get more than one time with him.”
“So, they were having an affair?”
“Not an affair in the real sense of the word. I think Carrick slept with her a few times, and she thought there was more going on than there actually was. Anyway, Charlotte didn’t take being tossed aside too well, and she sold her story to the tabloids. Safe to say, Pierce hit the fucking roof at the bad press right before the season is about to start. Also, Charlotte is suing Rybell for losing her job. Total bloody nightmare. And I knew Pierce and Owen would be uncomfortable at the thought of having a female mechanic, especially one as pretty as you, working so closely with Carrick.”
“I can understand that. But you know me, Uncle John. That’s not how I work.”
“Of course I know, and that’s why I wanted to get you here, so there’s nothing Pierce or Owen can do about it. I’m not having you miss out on your dream job because Carrick can’t keep it in his pants.”
“But…you’ve put me in an uncomfortable situation here, Uncle John. I appreciate why you did it, but I kind of don’t want to go in there and meet everyone now, considering what might happen.”
“Nothing will happen. Pierce isn’t here at the moment. He’s away at a meeting. And I’ll talk to him before you meet him. Don’t worry.” He puts an arm around my shoulder, giving me a squeeze. “It’s gonna be fine. Now, do you want a tour of the building or the garage first?”
“Garage. I might as well get the inevitable over with.”
I’m feeling less than excited now, knowing I’m going to be a shock to my new employers.
Come on, Andi. You can do this. So what if you get some stares and whispers? That’ll be nothing new. Pull your big-girl knickers on, and woman the hell up.
With a renewed sense of purpose, I follow Uncle John in the direction of the garage.
The moment he pushes the door open, I hear the sounds of machinery and engines revving and music playing on the radio along with the smell that can only come from cars, especially racing cars. And all my nerves disappear into thin air.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a F
ormula 1 garage.
Nostalgia sweeps over me, and I feel a lump in my throat.
“So, what do you think?” Uncle John asks from beside me.
“I think it’s amazing.” I push a smile onto my face.
“Come on. Let me introduce you to the people you’re going to be working with.”
I follow Uncle John over to one of the cars that a couple of guys are working on.
“Ben.” Uncle John touches his hand to the guy’s shoulder.
The guy lifts his head from the car, turning to us. He’s moderately attractive with light brown hair and green eyes, and he’s just a little taller than me. Not my type though.
“Andi, meet Ben. Ben is the head mechanic, so you’ll be working mostly with him. Ben, this is Andi Amaro.”
I see Ben’s eyes widen at the sight of me.
“Hi, Ben.” I step forward, holding my hand out to shake his. His hands are covered in oil, but that doesn’t bother me. “Nice to meet you. I’m guessing you’re one of the people Uncle John failed to tell that I’m a girl.”
Ben’s eyes flicker past me to Uncle John and then back to me. “He did.” Ben clears his throat. “But not that it’s a problem. Nice to meet you, too, Andi. I’m looking forward to working with you. John’s told me impressive things about your way with a car.” He wipes his hand on his overalls and shakes mine. “This here is Robbie.” He kicks a foot on the leg of a body underneath the car. “Robbie, get your arse out from under there, and come say hello to Andi.”
“He’s here?” The guy pushes out from under the car before getting to his feet. He looks at me and then glances around.
“This is Andi.” Ben gestures a hand to me.
“Hi. Nice to meet you.” I smile at Robbie and then offer my hand to him.
Robbie stares at my hand like it’s alien. Then, he looks back to my face, a little stunned, but there’s also harshness in his eyes.
Uncle John clears his throat behind me, snapping Robbie to his attention.
Robbie wipes his hand on his overalls and shakes mine. “Good to meet you…Andi.” Then, he turns to Ben. “I gotta go get that…thing. I’ll be back in a few.”
Then, he walks off.
Ben shakes his head. “Don’t mind him,” he says to me. “He lacks this thing called a personality. Great mechanic though.”
“So, it’s not just because I’m a girl then?” I grin.
Ben chuckles. “No. He’s like that with everyone. But when he sees that you’re just one of the boys, he’ll warm up in no time…or maybe not.” He laughs, again.
I like Ben more and more as the seconds go on. I think we’re going to get along just fine.
“John, you got a minute?”
I turn to the sound of the voice to see a man about the same age as Uncle John, I’d say, wearing a smart black suit. He’s very handsome in that older, distinguished way with short dark blond hair mixed with flecks of gray and piercing blue eyes.
“Owen, yeah, sure. Just let me introduce you to Andi first.”
Owen’s eyes land on me, fix, and then widen, and something settles into his expression that’s not altogether pleasant.
An uncomfortable knot forms in my stomach.
I follow Uncle John over to Owen. All the while, Owen’s eyes are watching me like a hawk.
“Owen Ryan, meet Andi Amaro, our new mechanic.” Uncle John says the word mechanic very pointedly.
Owen Ryan—this is Carrick’s dad.
Well, this is going to be interesting if the expression on his face is anything to go by.
“Hi, it’s really nice to meet you, Mr. Ryan,” I say, forcing confidence into my voice. I hold my hand out to shake his.
He just stares at my hand, like Robbie did, but with a more pissed off look on his face.
Ignoring me and my hand, which I awkwardly pull back, he turns to Uncle John. “This is Andi?” Owen points a finger at me. His accent is pure Irish.
I love the Irish accent, and I would normally be thrilled to hear it, but not when it’s coming from a man who clearly has an issue with me.
Uncle John frowns. Through tight lips, he says, “Yeah, this is Andi.”
“And she’s female,” Owen says through gritted teeth.
“Clearly.”
Am I invisible?
“And,” he growls, “she looks like that.” He wafts a hand up and down in my direction.
I look like what?
“Careful, Owen. You’re close to crossing a line.”
“I am? You hire a mechanic who looks like a fucking supermodel, and I’m crossing a line? Fucking brilliant, John. Has Pierce seen her yet? Even worse, has Carrick seen her?”
Uncle John’s voice cracks out like a whip as he says, “Knock it off. You and me, out there. Now.” Uncle John jerks his head to the door behind them.
With a face like thunder, Owen storms through the door with a furious Uncle John right behind him. It slams shut. Then, I hear the low rumble of angry voices coming from the other side.
Well, that went well.
I’m standing here, like a bloody lemon, feeling the most uncomfortable that I’ve ever felt in my life.
What is the problem here? Sure, I’m female, and no one clearly knew that. But what is Carrick? A dog in heat with uncontrollable urges?
Aside from sleeping with his mechanic’s girlfriend, I’m sure he can keep himself in check around me.
But now, I’m having visions of a horny Carrick Ryan, dry-humping my leg, and I start laughing to myself.
My laughter promptly stops when the door opens, and Owen reemerges with a red-faced Uncle John behind him.
Owen comes over to me. I tense, not sure what to expect. Maybe my marching orders.
“Andi,” Owen says gently, his voice a hell of a lot different than it was a few minutes ago, “I’m sorry about before. I spoke out of turn. You were just a surprise to me.” He takes a deep breath. “Things have been a little…tense here for a while. But that doesn’t excuse my behavior. Please accept my apologies.”
“Accepted.” I smile lightly.
Relief flickers across his countenance. But his eyes say something entirely different. They’re lined with suspicion. And I know this apology isn’t for my benefit, and I also know that I’m not going to have an easy time with Owen Ryan.
“From your resume, I saw that you’re very experienced for such a young age.”
“Mmhmm, I grew up with my head under the hood of a car.”
“And you have a degree in mechanical engineering?”
“That’s right. After I graduated I took a job working for a stock-car racing team back home.”
“Of course, you worked for Ingo Serra’s team.”
“I did.”
My answers are guarded, because if I’ve learned anything in this business and about people like Owen Ryan, give them just enough, but not enough to hang me with.
“I’ve seen Serra race. He’s incredibly talented.”
“Yes, he is.” I give a genuine smile at the thought of my old boss. Ingo was such a nice guy. “I enjoyed working for Ingo very much.”
“Fabulous.” Owen nods, smiling through tight lips. “Well, John speaks highly of you, and I’m sure you’ll fit in here, no problem.”
He doesn’t mean that. He’s worried that I’m going to shag his son. But it’s nice he said it I suppose.
“I’m looking forward to getting started.”
“Great. Well, I must get on, and I’m afraid I’m going to have to steal John for ten minutes.”
“Will you be okay on your own?” Uncle John asks me, moving closer.
“Fine.” I smile softly at him.
Uncle John stares at me for a moment. Owen is by the door, holding it open for him now.
“Go on ahead, and I’ll be there in a minute,” he says to Owen.
On a nod, Owen lets the door close.
Once Uncle John’s sure he’s gone, he says quietly, “Not that I’m excusing Owen’s behavior, but w
ith what happened with Rich and Charlotte, it all fell on him. He’s Carrick’s manager. He’s been left to clean up the mess that Carrick created. Pierce was seriously pissed, and the sponsors didn’t like the bad press. It was a nightmare all around. The last thing they want is another scandal. That’s why he reacted like he did when he saw you.”
“And that’s why you should have told them that I’m a woman.” I give him a disapproving look.
“If I had, you wouldn’t be standing here right now. And I’m glad you’re here.”
I smile at that. “Yeah, me, too, barring insta-hate from one of the bosses.”
“Owen’s fine. And he doesn’t hate you. He just has concerns. But once he gets to know you and sees that Carrick is the last thing you’re interested in, he’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Anyway, go. You’re needed, remember?” I shoo him away with my hands.
“You sure you’ll be fine?” he says, taking a step back.
“I’m sure. I’m just going to take a look around here.”
“Okay. I’ll see you in ten minutes or so, and then I’ll show you the rest of the place.”
I watch Uncle John leave through the door, and then I turn around to the car that Ben and Robbie were working on, but Ben is no longer there.
The engine cover is still up on the car so I decide to go take a look, see what I’m going to be working with.
As I wander over to the car, David Guetta’s “Dangerous” starts to play on the radio. Humming along to the song, I take my jacket off, laying it over the cockpit. I run my fingertips over the blue-and-silver paintwork as I walk toward the back end. Bending over, I start poking around, taking a look at the engine.
“Please tell me that you’re my birthday present.”
The Irish drawl has the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.
I turn my head to find Carrick Ryan standing behind me.
Oh. Wow.
He’s definitely better looking in the flesh than on television. I knew he was attractive. But blonds aren’t usually my thing. I’m more of a dark-hair-and-dark-eyes kind of girl.
But his dirty-blond hair, blue eyes laced with sin, and full lips—the kind of lips you spend hours sucking on—and that chiseled jaw decorated with stubble…yep, it all seems to be working for me. Well, my body anyway. Definitely not my head. Man-sluts are not my thing.
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