“Taking you out of here so that we can have some privacy,” he says.
“Are you crazy? There are people everywhere.”
“Really, Siena, I don’t really give a shit,” he says, “I can’t let you storm out of here, furious with me. We need to figure a few things out.”
“Not here. Just...come on.”
I shake him off my arm and whirl away, tears stinging my eyes. For what it’s worth, he lets me make it out of the club before hurrying right after me. I dart across the street, away from the snaking line of people waiting to get into the club. Harrison stays right on my heels, following me by a pace or two until I duck into a narrow alleyway. We slip into the shadows, finally away from prying eyes. I lean back against the brick wall and cover my face with my hands, biting back bitter tears.
“Hey,” Harrison says, his voice a quiet growl, “Siena, come here...”
I collapse against him as he takes me in his arms. I’m beyond the point of crying now, but my shoulders shake with frustrated anger.
“This is such bullshit,” I say through gritted teeth, “Look at us! Hiding out in some alley like a couple of criminals.”
“I know. It’s fucking miserable,” Harrison says, cupping my chin with his hand.
“You’re not exactly making matters better,” I tell him, stepping away from his embrace, “Why did you have to fly off the handle in there?”
“Pardon me?” Harrison says, “Are you actually angry with me for getting that asshole to lay off?”
“I would have been just fine on my own, Harrison,” I tell him, “I’ve been taking care of myself for twenty-five years without your help. I know how to shake off a creep.”
“You can’t blame me for losing my temper,” Harrison says, “He was all over you.”
“I can absolutely blame you!” I exclaim. “You’re a grown man. You need to learn how to control yourself. Have you forgotten about the hundred pictures of us that could come out at any minute if our blackmailer sees us together again?”
“Of course I haven’t forgotten,” Harrison snaps, “I’ve got just as much to lose here as you do.”
“Then what were you thinking, racing to my defense like that?” I demand, “If that’s not a tip off that something’s been going on between us—”
“I was thinking,” Harrison growls, “That the woman I love was in trouble. And I’m not going to apologize for wanting to take care of you.”
“I’m not—”
“Maybe we should really take these weeks away from each other,” Harrison says, “No more of these chance meetings. I’ll see you in front of the State Museum in a week’s time. Until then, don’t you worry. You won’t see hide or hair of me.”
“Harrison—” I say, reaching for him. But he slips back out of the alley before I can catch him, leaving me alone once more. Deflated and confused, I make my way back toward the club. Time to make good on that second martini, after all.
Chapter Five
Out Of Dodge
I bury myself in work for the next several days, hoping to distract myself from the increasingly awful shit storm swirling all around me. Rising up six in the morning and heading out to a secluded cafe in a far corner of Moscow to research, I manage to steer clear of anyone related to F1. I claim exhaustion and impending illness and bow out of evening excursions, and keep my door tightly barred against visitors. The only person I actually want to see right now is Harrison. And since he refuses to see me for an entire two weeks, I’d rather just be alone.
Luckily, there’s always plenty of work to be done for Team Ferrelli. It’s a bottomless well to draw from. In this age of digitization and instant access, PR is both a nightmare and an exciting challenge. With so much of our private lives becoming open to the public through social media and the Web in general, there’s a lot more potential for something to come along and really derail even the best attempts at good behavior. And don’t I know it.
I’ve been crafting Enzo’s public persona since I was brought onto the team after graduation. He’s always been a pretty easy driver to manage, in that respect. The face he shows to the public is composed and conservative, professional and sportsmanlike. Sure, his private indulgences may not be as clean and shiny as all that, but those transgressions are easy to divert the media’s attention from. At least, it’s been easy in the past. But this season, my brother’s become more difficult to handle than ever. He’s always had a temper, but he’s getting worse and worse at restraining it these days.
This is the first year that Enzo really has a shot at taking first place. From the start of this season, the awareness of that fact has been changing him. He’s cockier than ever, not afraid to look like a hot head in front of the press. But more worrying is his behavior on the track. He’s become reckless with his advantage, bordering on careless at times. And it’s only getting worse with every passing race. The old Enzo would never dream of cutting another driver off unnecessarily, or threatening to drag a personal feud onto the track. As I scramble to dust off Enzo’s public image, I start to really get nervous about the impending Grand Prix. Would he really be so vindictive, so stupid as to mess with Harrison on the track?
I shake off the question, unable to face it. I have to believe that my brother is better than that. It’s the only way I’m going to make it through this Grand Prix with my nerves even remotely intact. For the first time in about three hours, I look up from my computer screen, taking in the small, quiet Moscow cafe. It’s so peaceful here, so quaint. Sitting here, alone at my little table, deeply immersed in my work, I can almost forget that this sport is so much more to me than a job. God...what I wouldn’t give to be able to go home for the night after a good day’s work. I glance toward the barista behind the counter longingly. Maybe he’s got the right idea.
With a heavy sigh, I close my laptop and begin to gather my things. I’m just about to stand up and pay when a flurry of fuchsia settles in across the table from me.
“Not so fast,” Bex says, crossing her arms.
“Jesus Christ,” I exclaim, startled by her sudden presence. “When did you—How—?”
“I followed you here, obviously,” she says, flicking a blonde curl off her shoulder. “You’ve been a ghost for the last three days, Siena. I had to get creative with my tactics.”
“I’ve just been really busy with work, Bex,” I tell her, leaning back in my chair, “I was trying to find a little peace and quiet to get ahead with—”
“You can’t lie to me, Lazio,” she cuts me off, “You forget that I’m not your best friend these days, I’m also your coworker. I know how much work there is for us to do, and I know you well enough to know your ‘I’m a dirty liar’ face from a mile away. You're sunk, my darling.”
“So what is this, then?” I ask, a bit more harshly than I mean to, “Some kind of interrogation? What do you want from me, Bex?”
“I want you to tell me what’s been going on with you since Budapest,” she says, “You’ve been locking me out ever since the last Grand Prix. I’m so worried about you, Siena. I can tell that something’s gone to shit and all I want to do is help. Will you let me help you?”
“I...I don’t know if you can,” I finally say, my throat thick with swallowed tears.
“At least let me in,” Bex urges quietly, “Whatever’s going on, you shouldn’t have to shoulder it alone. Come on. This is what best friends are for.”
“It might not be safe to tell you,” I say, lowering my voice.
“Why the hell not?” she asks, “What do you mean, not safe?”
“There’s just...a lot of sensitive information involved,” I say carefully.
“What, are you afraid you can’t trust me?” she asks, he eyes shining with hurt.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about,” I tell her.
“I don’t understand, Siena.”
“The situation I’m in might be...sort of linked to someone you’ve been spending a lot of time with,” I say, trying my be
st to be diplomatic.”
“What? Who have I...” comprehension dawns across her pretty face, “Are you talking about Charlie?”
I nod wordlessly.
“You’re angry that I’ve been seeing him. I should have known that. I mean, I know it weirds you out a little bit, but I didn’t think you’d actually mind—”
“Bex, it’s not that. I don’t mind at all, you two hooking up. You’re both adults, aren’t you? Normally I’d be thrilled to see you two pair off.”
“But then why aren’t you? Why have you been so closed off to us since I told you we were spending time together?”
“Things have gotten complicated,” I tell her.
“No shit,” she shoots back, “But how complicated?”
I lock eyes with my best friend as my mind scrambles. I’m dying to tell her what’s been going on, to get the weight of my secret struggle off my heart. I just have to let her in.
“Okay,” I start, clasping my hands on the table, “You have to promise not to lose your shit and start threatening to end some bitches.”
“I will promise nothing of the sort,” Bex says without missing a beat.
“Fine,” I say, taking a deep breath, “The situation between Harrison and I...There’s this sort of...We may be...”
“What?”
“...Compromised,” I say softly.
“Oh God...” Bex breathes, covering my hands with hers, “Bex, did your brother find out? Your dad?”
“Not yet,” I say, “But Bex, they could find out any second, the way things are going.”
“Tell me everything,” she says.
“Back at the Budapest Grand Prix,” I begin, “Just as the race was ending, I got a text from an unknown number. It was a picture message. A gallery message, rather. About fifty pictures of me and Harrison together. Kissing, holding hands, all of it. And just one line of text: ‘Stay away, or the world finds out’.”
Bex’s jaw drops, her eyes wide with shock. “You’re being blackmailed?” she whispers.
“So it would seem,” I say. “I got a second batch, too. Someone out there has dozens and dozens of pictures of me and Harrison, just waiting to go out to the press. Shit, if one of those photos leaked, I’d be sunk. But a hundred?”
“I’m so sorry, Siena,” Bex says, squeezing my hands, “You must be terrified.”
“Terrified, angry, violated, you name it,” I tell her, my eyes welling up, “I don’t understand why someone would want to hurt us this way. We’ve never done anything wrong. It’s not fair.”
“I know, I know,” Bex says, “It’s bullshit. Not to mention illegal as hell. I mean, someone’s been stalking you, Siena. Using these pictures to control you.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” I say.
“But wait,” Bex says, her brow furrowing, “What does this have to do with Charlie.”
“Come on Bex,” I tell her, “Don’t make me say it out loud.”
“You don’t think...?” she says, letting go of my hands, “Siena. You can’t possibly think that Charlie Spano could be behind something like this.”
“Why not?” I challenge her, “If anyone would have reason to try and keep Harrison and I apart, it’s him.”
“Siena, I’m sorry that this is happening to you, and you know that I love you more than my own family...But that is absolute bullshit.”
“What?”
“We all know how much Charlie cares about you,” she goes on, “But you’re forgetting about the one great love of his life. Team Ferrelli.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Why on earth would be threaten to rat you out to the press, knowing what it would do to your family? To the whole team?”
“I didn’t—”
“He loves you, Siena. He always will. And I’m not talking puppy love, crush-level nonsense. You’re like family to him. He would never stoop this low. He would never do anything to hurt you. Can’t you see that? Charlie isn’t doing this. I just know it.”
I feel myself blush and drop my eyes from Bex’s. God, I never even considered the fact that Charlie might not even be interested in me romantically anymore. How presumptuous to assume that he’d lose his mind over me being with someone else, enough so to put the team in jeopardy? How could I have accused him of this in my mind without even pausing to check myself. Sure, he’s been pissing me off this entire season with his over-protectiveness and needless badmouthing of Harrison, but he’s still Charlie. My Charlie. The boy I spent every summer of my childhood playing with. The guy who was my constant shoulder to cry on during our teenage and college years...The man who may very well be falling for my best friend in the world right at this moment. I’ve been so horrible to him, all these weeks.
“I feel like such an idiot,” I say, letting my face fall into my hands.
“You’re panicked, it’s understandable,” Bex says, “But you’ve got to start looking at Charlie for who he actually is, not who you’ve built him up to be in your head.”
“I know. I will,” I say, “Are you two...How is it going?”
“Really well, actually,” she says, “I’ve never been with someone who could make a world class driver like Rostov seem like second best, that’s for sure. We just understand each other, I guess. I don’t know how to explain it.”
“You don’t have to,” I tell her with a smile, “That’s so wonderful, Bex.”
“It is...” she says, unable to hide a smile of her own, “I never in my life would have guessed that he’d be my type, but...here we are.”
“I’ll apologize to him, I tell her, “I promise.”
“That would be good, I think.”
“I’m so sorry, Bex,” I say, “I’ve been such a terrible friend.”
“You couldn’t be that if you tried,” she assures me, “What you’re going through...it’s gigantic. I’d go a little nuts too.”
“I just...I don’t have any idea what to do,” I tell her.
“Harrison knows about it, I’m guessing?”
“We found a minute to debrief.”
“Not the fun kind of de-briefing, I take it?”
“Ha, ha.”
“Seriously though,” she says, “What have you guys decided to do?”
“Nothing, for now. We’re going to meet again in a week, after we’ve had some time to think. Until then I just have to stay away, I guess.”
“So that’s why you’ve barricaded yourself up,” Bex says.
“Pretty much.”
“Does Harrison have any idea who might be out to get you?” she asks, looking around the tiny cafe. “Can you think of anyone else?”
“I sure can,” I tell her, “You remember the blonde woman from Team McClain, Shelby?”
“The one who spent the other night attached to Enzo’s arm?” she asks.
“The very same. She’s been an ice queen to me since the minute we met in Barcelona. She also happens to be one of McClain’s social media managers. Every time I’ve seen her since these pictures arrived, she’s looked like the cat who swallowed the canary.”
“Why would she do something like this?” Bex asks.
“She’s probably carrying a torch for Harrison or something,” I shrug.
“If that was so, why would she be willing to destroy his career?”
I’m at a loss. “Well...Maybe...”
“Could it be that you’re threatened by this Shelby person, where Harrison is concerned? Perhaps you’re projecting a little bit...?”
“No,” I say quickly, “If you could see the looks she gives me—”
“I don’t think you can base a whole lot on looks, Siena.”
Damn. She’s totally right, of course. Charlie and Shelby both care too much about me and Harrison respectively to be such easy suspects. A new fear begins to churn in the very core of me. As awful as this whole thing is, there’s something still comforting about the devil you know. Could a total stranger really be orchestrating this whole thing? I can’t totally get be
hind Bex’s dismissal of my two possible guilty parties, but she's right—I need to start thinking bigger. Who knows how far this really goes.
“Siena,” my best friend says, leaning her elbows on the table, “Have you...have you thought about taking matters into your own hands, here?”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I mean...telling your family that you’re seeing Harrison,” she says, “Before some gossipy expose does it for you.”
I let out a loud bark of laughter, causing the few other cafe patrons to turn around and scowl in my direction.
“You can’t be serious, Bex,” I say, lowering my voice again, “Tell my dad and Enzo? What, so they can skin me alive?”
“Sure,” Bex shoots back, “Why not?”
“Because they’d be furious!” I exclaim, “They’d disown me.”
“They wouldn’t,” Bex insists, “And they’ll be a lot more angry if they find out about this from someone else, rather than from you.”
“You can’t honestly be suggesting that I sit the two of them down and come clean,” I say.
“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”
“That...is absolutely insane, Bex.”
“Why?”
“Because...You don’t understand. What I’ve been doing is high treason. I’ve been going behind my family’s back to see a man they don’t approve of. A man who my brother’s coming to despise more and more by the day. And not only that, but I’ve put the team in a terrible position. It’s the conflict of interest to end all conflicts of interest.”
“Siena,” Bex says, “What do you think your other options are, here?”
“I...I honestly have no idea. I’ve only been thinking as far as the next hour, the next day."
“Well, what exactly is your end game?” she asks, “Are you planning to call it off with Harrison and go your separate ways?”
The very thought makes me sick to my stomach. I shake my head no.
“Then are you willing to let this blackmailer expose you once you give up and see each other again, alone?”
“Of course not.”
“Then there’s really only one thing you can do,” Bex says, “If you really care about Harrison, and I know you do, you have to be honest with your family. What else is there? You can’t just stop seeing him. I know you can’t. You can’t carry on in secret forever—”
Faster Deeper (Take Me...#2) (New Adult Bad Boy Racer Novel) Page 5