Sighing, I wait until the race is over, but I feel sorry when Chris doesn’t win. His opponent is beaming, and Chris throws his helmet to the floor like a stubborn kid who didn’t get what he wanted. Then he storms off to his room, not even caring about the race anymore. It almost seems like this is the first time he’s lost, but that can’t be possible, because it isn’t human to always win. Is it just his temper today? Or is something else the matter?

Regardless, I can’t think about it too much. I have to arrange a couple of interviews for him, and I have to make sure he’s ready and pumped for the next race. That’s my job, and I should stick to what I’m good at. No more confused Emily. There’s no more room in me for that. I just have to stick to what I know, which is not involving myself with family unless it’s utterly necessary.

I make my way down the bleachers, but then my stepmother suddenly pulls me with her. “Come with me, Emily.”

“No, wait, I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“I have to work,” I say.

“Work can wait.”

“No, it can’t,” I say, but she’s still dragging me along.

“Yes, it can.” Her voice is stern. “You need to relax every now and then. Take a breather. I don’t want you to work yourself to death.”

She’s one to talk.

“Where are we going anyway?” I ask, stumbling after her.

“You’ll see.”

Ten minutes later and I’m celebrating the victory of another racer, whose name was conveniently Victor as well, which makes me snigger. Of course, I’m the only one who finds it remotely amusing, but that’s okay. I’m not even sure what I’m doing here, drinking champagne with people I don’t even know, but my stepmother kind of dragged me into it, and it’s rude to step out. Besides, maybe I’ll create new professional ties here; that’s always good for the business.

“So, Emily, you work for a PR agency?” Victor asks me with his French-like accent. I’m not sure what it is or where he’s from, but it sounds luxurious.

“Ah, yeah, I organize interviews and control what is released to the media.” I take the last sip of my champagne.

“Oh, fascinating,” he says, handing me another glass.

“Oh, no, thank you,” I say, but he shoves it in my hand anyway.

“I insist.” The sparkle in his eyes makes me a little apprehensive, but I have to admit, he is handsome. Different from Chris. Not rugged or dirty in a sexy way, but more sophisticated and delicately sexy. It’s a breath of fresh air, but at the same time, I’m still not sure what in the hell I’m doing here.

“I should really be going actually,” I say, clearing my throat.

“Why?” my mother suddenly intervenes. “You’ve only just introduced yourself to Victor.”

I blush. “Why is it so important to you?”

“Oh, did she not tell you?” Victor says, smiling coyly.

“What?” I glance at her with brows drawn together, wondering what she’s been up to now.

“I think you two should get to know each other better,” she says with a gentle shrug. Oh, dear god. Did she just really say that? Is this what I think it is?

“You … this is …” My face turns beet-red. “Oh, my god.”

“Oh, Emily, don’t make such a fuss. Just enjoy the party.” Tricia waves and walks back into the crowd.

“Tricia!” I yell after her, but she ignores me completely.

“What’s wrong?” Victor says.

I rub my lips together, wondering if I should explain it to him or if it would make me come across as some sort of creepy stalker weirdo. “Um … I think my stepmother kind of wanted to … play the matchmaker.” I clear my throat, but it’s not helping me getting rid of this lump in my throat.

He smiles, like broadly, teeth and all, and I’m just flabbergasted at his response. “Matchmaking as in a date? With a beautiful lady such as yourself? I wouldn’t mind.” He smirks. “It’s weird. But in a cute way.”

I smile a little and decide that it might not be that bad after all. I mean, my stepmother can be annoying at times, but this might actually be a great idea. What other way do I have to get over Chris? It’s not as if we can be together anyway, no matter whether I want to or not … This man isn’t part of my family, and it would be a hell of a lot less complicated.

I take another sip of the champagne. Already feeling intoxicated, I make the decision to just go for it. I have nothing to lose and a whole lot to gain.

“Well, Victor. Tell me about yourself,” I say, placing my hand on his upper arm. A classic flirt. Subtle but to the point.

Right when he opens his mouth to talk, the door is smashed open.

In steps Chris, with a face that predicts thunder.

Oh, crap. Shit’s about to go down.

Chapter 21

Emily

Chris storms through the room, shoving away the tables, spilling drinks everywhere, and pushing people aside as if they’re mere obstacles in his way. His eyes are blazing, furiously hot, and the moment they settle on me, I freeze in place, overcome by the primal agony edged on his face.

“Who is he?” Chris yells.

He’s not walking straight. At first, I thought it was from the rage, but then seeing him walk criss-cross makes me think he drank too much instead.

“Chris?” I say as he comes toward me.

“Victor?” he yells, his eyes widening, and then narrowing again. “You …”

“Calm down,” I say, but the moment he reaches us, he’s got his fist palmed and an attack is imminent. “No!” I yell, grabbing his arm, blocking him from hurting Victor. “Chris, stop! What are you doing?” I scream.

“You son of a bitch!” Chris yells in a drunken slur. “Get your hands off her.”

Victor steps back. “I’m not even touching her.”

“I saw you,” Chris says.

“Chris, calm the fuck down before you get your ass kicked,” I growl, pushing him back when he tries to attack Victor again.

“The only one kicking ass here is me.” I can smell the alcohol on his breath.

“What’s your fucking problem, dude?” Victor says.

“You! You’re my fucking problem, that’s what,” Chris points at him, but he can’t even keep his hand steady.

Oh god, this is turning into a PR nightmare.

I lower his arm and hiss, “Shut up. One more word and I’ll be the one kicking your ass instead.” When his lips part again, I interrupt him before he has the chance to speak. “Shh! No.”

I glance at Victor and say, “Sorry, he’s a little … bummed about the race. I’m really, really sorry. He’s kind of an asshole, sometimes. Very overprotective of his little sister.”

Victor raises his brow. “You know this could get him kicked out of the competition.”

“Please … please don’t.” I beg Victor with my eyes to consider forgetting about this. “Please don’t mention it to anyone. I’ll make sure he doesn’t cause any more trouble, just please don’t file a complaint.”

“All right,” he says. “For the lovely lady.” He clears his throat and addresses the rest of the people in the party who have gone awfully quiet. “Let’s continue the party. Nothing to see here.”

The music volume returns, and I mouth a ‘thank you’ to Victor before pulling Chris with me. He’s quite heavy when he’s not walking properly, and I have trouble dragging him through the crowd. “Goddammit, Chris. What the hell is wrong with you?” I glance over my shoulder at him.

“You were flirting with him. You can’t deny it. I know what I saw,” he hisses.

“I’m not,” I say, dragging him out the door, “but it’s still none of your business what I do.”

“You want to be with a guy like him?” he says, his words slurring a bit.

I sigh out loud, still dragging him along. I’m not really in the mood to explain myself to him, considering the way he behaved. But when we’re halfway to his room, he stops in his tracks and forces me to stop as well.

“Tell me what you were doing with him, Em.”

“Talking,” I say, jerking my arm loose. “Now let’s go to your room.”