To prove to her and to himself that he had really conquered this.
“Yeah, I’m good. I just needed to talk. Sometimes it’s good to get out of my head,” Mal said.
“I know what you mean. Talking to you and to Hadley is what keeps me from giving in to my anger...but honestly, I’m mellower now than I’ve ever been in my life. My dad thinks it’s because of Hadley. He said getting laid regularly does that.”
Malcolm laughed. “Your dad is too much.”
“He really is. I hope I’m still having fun when I’m old like him.”
“Goals right there.”
They both laughed, and then Mo asked, “Seriously, you okay?”
“Yeah. I am. With Helena here, and talking to you, it keeps me clear. Helps me stay in the real world, not that gambler’s red haze where it seems like one bet could make me a tycoon.”
“A tycoon? Seriously?” Mauricio asked.
“Yeah. Like the Monopoly dude,” Malcolm said, feeling much more normal now. “That’s why I got into real estate.”
“You know what? Me too. I mean, it helped getting that house in town to fix up the summer between my freshman and sophomore year in college, but once I started flipping houses, I realized how much money could be made with a good eye.”
“You definitely have the eye,” Malcolm said. He did appreciate all that Mo had taught him about real estate. He had been floundering at the agency he’d worked at before Mo had brought him on board. He never could forget what his friend had done for him.
He’d given him focus and a chance to become the man he wanted to be. A man Helena could be proud to call her own.
“You do too. I’m glad to have you on my team,” Mo said. “I’ll send that info over. Let me know if you need anything else.”
They hung up, and Malcolm got back on the road. It was good to know that this favor for Moretti Motors wasn’t the only thing on his plate today. He needed his real job and real life around him.
Helena was waiting for him in the lobby when he got back from Moretti Motors, and she rushed over to him as soon as she saw him, hugging him and then stepping back to look up into his face.
“How’d it go?”
“Great. Straightforward and easy,” he said. “Do you feel up to coming with me to meet a real estate client? It’s an apartment in Hadley’s old building. I thought afterward you could show me that bagel place you and Hadley always rave about.”
She nodded. “Yes. I’d love to. Are we staying in New York for a while?”
“No. One more night and then we’re heading home. But this is a client who probably won’t deal with Mo because she knew about the drama between him and Hadley.”
“Ah. His womanizing ways catching up to him.”
“Something like that,” Malcolm said. It felt good to have Helena by his side. He was worried when he saw how concerned she’d been. But seeing the way she kept giving him glances when she thought he wasn’t looking just drove home the point that she still wasn’t sure of him.
He felt that tension start in the back of his neck. Sometimes it was really hard not to feel as if Helena and her entire family were judging him. He knew he came from the poorer side of town. And Mr. Everton had made it clear that marrying his daughter wasn’t a shortcut to the country club set. Which was fine, since that was something Malcolm had never aspired to. He just wanted to live with the woman he loved.
She slipped her hand in his.
“I don’t know if I could do what you’re doing,” she said, going up on tiptoe and kissing him. “You have way more courage than I do.”
Her words were a balm for his soul, and he let them soothe the tension away.
* * *
Marielle had texted Darian and told him never mind, she’d handle her mom and Carlton without him. He’d only responded that he was there if she needed him, but she was pretty sure she wouldn’t. After she’d spilled her guts to Inigo, she’d realized how much of that childhood resentment she’d been using to feed her journey as an adult. She’d been making choices for a long time just to annoy her mom.
It was like she was still jumping in the pool yelling, hey, Mom, watch me, to a woman who would rather sip her martini and gossip with her friends. She’d had such a feeling of clarity when she’d left Inigo’s place that it had been almost like a weight was lifted from her.
It would be nice to use her family connections, but she didn’t need them. She’d been very content with building her influencer career based on doing the things she loved. The things that suited her. It would be a huge shortcut to have her mom invite her to her top-tier events, but at the same time, it wasn’t the end of the world if she didn’t.
When she got back to her apartment, she had to prepare and write a series of posts. Her photographer was coming over just after lunch to do a photo shoot for a sponsored post that she’d be running next week. The sponsor was the luxury jewelry brand House of Hamilton. They were trying to promote their name to a younger crowd and, in the words of the PR manager, home in on the blue box market.
Her phone pinged, and she saw it was a message in her Snapchat group from Siobahn.
Did you hit it last night?
Yes. It was good. Not like it could have been.
I’m in the studio until six. Can you hang out?
Maybe. I have a call in to my mom. I need to go and see her. You down for a drive to the Hamptons?
No. But when you’re back ping me.
She set her phone aside and went to fill up her water bottle, and when she came back, she saw that Siobahn had sent another message that said if she needed her, she’d go with her.
She smiled to herself. She’d always felt so isolated by her feelings of inadequacy, which in retrospect had made her easy pickings for a man like Jose. She felt like she didn’t deserve a man who was free to be hers, so that was what she’d attracted. And it would be easy to place the blame on her mom, but the truth was whenever she’d been presented with two choices, she always leaned toward the one that would cause the most grief for her parents.
Her phone rang, and she saw it was her parents’ house phone in the Hamptons. She took a deep breath before she answered the call. She felt the tension in her shoulders, and that knot in the pit of her stomach appeared as it always did when she thought of speaking to her parents...or worse, Carlton.
“This is Marielle,” she said, using the manners and etiquette that her mother had drilled into her as a child. She always introduced herself. Her mother thought it was the height of arrogance for someone to assume they knew who you were.
“Hello,” her mom said. “I’m afraid we have a dinner party scheduled for tonight, but I’m coming to the city for a luncheon and could meet you for coffee at Ralph’s after. Let’s say three o’clock. Would that work for you?”
Her mom’s tone was quiet, as if she wasn’t too sure of what Marielle’s reaction would be. It was one of the few times she could remember her mother suggesting the two of them do something together and alone. “Yes, I can do that.”
“Great. I’ll add you to my calendar. See you then,” her mom said, ending the call.
Marielle set the phone down and thought about her mom. She didn’t really seem like she wanted to change, and Marielle knew she had to be careful not to project onto her mother the feelings of the relationship she wanted. Her therapist had helped her realize that.
Ugh.
Why did life have to be so complicated?
The doorbell rang, and she heard PJ answer it. A moment later he came in with a vase of pink peonies. “For you.”
“Wow. Very nice. I wonder who they’re from?” she asked. Maybe the brand she’d met with the other day.
She pulled out the card once PJ went back to his tablet to answer some DMs she had received. He screened most of them and provided answers she’d already written to her most
commonly asked questions.
She opened the card and saw the printed message.
Thanks for last night. Would you have dinner with me tonight? I’d like to discuss possibly seeing each other again.
Inigo
She read it, then reread it.
What the hell?
They’d already discovered they were oil and water—they didn’t match. It didn’t matter that they went up like flames when they were together. This dance they were playing with each other had to end.
Yet she didn’t want to say no.
She sort of did want to see him again. He had made her see her world in a way that she’d never looked at it before, and though a part of her felt like she was using him, another part was eager to see what would be revealed if she spent more time with him.
* * *
Dinner at his place sent a certain message. Exactly the one he wanted her to receive—that he was happy to hook up, but that was it.
He shoved his hand through his hair.
This had stupid written all over it.
But he needed to see if sleeping with Marielle was making him faster. Marco had seen a picture of him and Marielle from the night before when they’d been getting into the car. Apparently, the paparazzi had been watching the door. He couldn’t remember anything but wanting to be alone with her.
Marco had said that he’d had a woman change his driving: his wife. Which made Inigo reluctant to continue anything with Marielle. He hadn’t said anything to his boss about the fact that she had been Jose’s mistress. But Dante had looked up his times later, and they’d notice a slight uptick.
Now that he thought about it, it made him feel sort of sick. Was he really using her because he thought she’d made him faster?
The simple answer was yes. The championship had eluded him for too long. But he also knew that he couldn’t just use her. He had to be clear about his intentions.
God, he felt like his dad. Was it an old-fashioned sentiment? She wasn’t looking for a ring from him. She had her own thing going. She didn’t need him, did she? Sex was just that—sex.
Why did he feel a knot in his stomach at the thought of that?
She’d been different from the beginning. He couldn’t say it was just because he’d ended his self-imposed celibacy. It was more than that.
This was something else. Once again he felt that tension at the back of his neck that warned him this might not be as straightforward as he wanted it to be.
But he wasn’t willing to let go of her if it meant winning.
He’d sent flowers, and she’d agreed to come to dinner. He had ordered from one of his favorite restaurants, and they had sent over a sous chef to prepare and serve the food in his dining room that overlooked Central Park. The city was blanketed in snow from a cold snap, and as he looked out the window, he almost had to pinch himself.
Driving had given him this life. It wasn’t like he had grown up struggling. He’d had nice things; his father was a horse rancher and he’d grown up in a world of wealth and privilege. But this was different. He’d earned this. This was his.
His phone vibrated with a message from the doorman that Marielle was here. He texted to send her up and then alerted the chef that they would be ready to eat in thirty minutes or so.
He went to the door to wait for her. She arrived a few minutes later, her hair pulled into a loose ponytail low at the back of her neck. It wasn’t one of those messy buns that so many women wore these days. She had on a pair of skinny leather leggings and a soft-looking sweater that hugged the curves of her breasts and made it damned near impossible for him to look away. But he finally did.
He smiled when she waggled both of her eyebrows at him.
“I thought we’d decided last night was goodbye,” she said, walking into his apartment.
“Plans change,” he said. He was thrown into doubt about whether to tell her that she’d made him faster.
He was a mess right now. What if it wasn’t her? He’d been really focused over the last year.
Dante had warned him that he was going to have to be careful about attributing too much to Marielle.
“They do. So...”
“I have a private chef making dinner for us, but can I get you a drink?” he asked.
“Are you drinking?” she asked. “I thought you were sticking to ice water during the racing season.”
“I am. Well, pretty much all the time. Plus, my brother Mauricio has a short tempter, and I found when I drink, I do too. And I saw how destructive that was for him...so I avoid it whenever I can.”
“Fair enough,” she said. “I’m fine with soda water and a twist of lime.”
“Coming right up. If you want to have a seat by the fire, I’ll bring the drinks,” he said.
He’d lit a fire in the fireplace, thinking it would be more romantic than sitting on the couch with SportsCenter playing in the background. But maybe that would have sent a different message. He realized he was standing at the bar looking down at the limes that the chef had prepared earlier and wondering how he’d ever thought he could get revenge on her. He couldn’t even find a way to tell her about how she’d affected him at the test today.
He felt like some kind smarmy dude even thinking about how he would suggest that they hook up so his times could keep getting faster.
“Inigo?”
Startled, he spilled some of the soda water he’d just poured as he turned to her.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “I’ve never seen you move this slow before or be so jumpy. You’re usually moving faster than the speed of light and smooth as hell.”
He handed her the drink after he wiped the glass down with a napkin. “I have a proposition for you.”
“Ooh. I’m intrigued. Is it an indecent proposal?”
He felt his face flush. She threw her head back and laughed. “Okay, let’s hear it. Though I have to be honest and tell you that if you offer me less than a cool million, I’m going to be insulted.”
She always surprised him, never reacting the way he expected. “Money would sully what we have.”
He felt like he was getting some of his mojo back. She made him feel calm...well, horny as hell, but calm inside. And he had to wonder if that was all he needed from her. But why would he turn down sex if she agreed?
Eleven
Once again he had surprised her, but really, should she have been? They were both dancing around the attraction between them, neither of them wanting to admit that there could be anything more than sex.
But could there be?
“So...no money,” she joked. But what did he want? She wondered sometimes why she never found a normal guy who just wanted to chat on a dating app and then meet for a meal. Instead she had this...something she wasn’t sure she actually minded.
“I feel like it might be better to talk about over dinner. I had a plan,” he said.
“But that’s not going to work,” she said. “You can’t bring something like this up and then let it go. That’s not how this works. You said you had a proposition for me.”
She’d been told she was too blunt. Her aunt Tilly had warned her more than once to slow down and let her tongue catch up with her mind. It never hurt to give something a thought or two before she blurted it out. But that didn’t really suit her. It never had.
“Um, so, today at practice I clocked the fastest time I’ve ever had. We did it three times to see if it was a fluke. There was a new setup, but that isn’t enough to get the kind of speed I got out of the simulator today. It was everything coming together for me. And I think that was because of last night,” he said, turning away from her to look out the window.
She lived on the other side of the park, and their views were different. She moved over to stand next to him.
He had just articulated what she’d felt today. Se
x had been sort of a detox of all the junk that had been plaguing her lately, and she wouldn’t mind trying it again. But she knew from the past when she had tried to justify a relationship—the one with Jose—it hadn’t really worked. She feared what she had with Inigo would quickly become something different than what had happened last night, especially since there was still bad blood with his sister.
“I had a moment of clarity today too. I think it was talking to you that made it possible.”
“I want to do more than talk,” he said sardonically.
“I figured,” she said. “But that helped me. You gave me some perspective that I hadn’t been able to find before this.”
“So we can hook up for me and talk for you,” he said, then shook his head. “That sounds even crazier out loud than it does in my head.”
She had to agree it did sound crazy. “I can’t go on the Formula One tour with you.”
She wasn’t going back there again. All of those cities were tied to memories of Jose and now tinged with the fact that he’d been playing her the entire time. She didn’t want to have to deal with that. Not now that she was sort of getting herself back on track.
Inigo rubbed the back of his neck, turned to put his drink on the bar and then walked back over to her. “I don’t even know if you’re what is making a difference in my driving.”
“So?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I had a vague idea of what I was going to suggest, but being here with you, there’s no way I can do it. There’s something douchey about saying to a woman, hey, let’s hook up so I can see if sex is making me better at my job.”
She couldn’t help the smile that broke across her face. She shook her head. This. This was exactly why she was here in his apartment, despite the fact that he had said some truly mean things to her in the past and would probably do so again. He was unpredictable and at the same time so honest...which was why she knew he’d say something to her again that would hurt. He didn’t have that bullshit filter that most of the men she dated in the past had. The one that allowed them to say things to her that she’d believe even though they were lying.
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