Page 10 of Downforce

“You son of a bitch!”

Annalise’s snarling hiss brings me out of my internal world. My gaze drops to hers. While her usually hypnotizing hazel eyes are filled with fire that matches the color of her hair, it’s a dizzying combination to be confronted with now that she’s removed her mask.

“Excuse me?” I ask casually.

“Don’t play dumb with me. You intentionally sabotaged my meeting with Luca Taylor.”

I jut my head backward, looking from my right to my left.

“I have no earthly idea what you’re talking about.”

Her eyes narrow and my breathing stutters. It’s likely imperceptible to anyone watching. I’ve spent years in front of the camera, being media coached on how to say or do the right thing to charm the press. I know how to conceal my truth.

Even from myself.

“Fuck. You,” she says through clenched teeth. “Do you know what I’m talking about now? You irredeemable asshole.”

“Such foul language, princess,” I snark. “Women who look like you shouldn’t talk like that.”

Her eyes bulge, then narrow again.

“Add condescendingly sexist to the irredeemable asshole list. Listen, I don’t know what you think you were doing in there, or why you chose to come over to the one team you should’ve stayed away from,” she scolds, “but whatever other notions of sabotage you have for this season, do yourself a favor and drop it. Travis has already had one shitty teammate, and you see how well that worked for him.”

“Don’t compare me to that wanker,” I gripe, stepping closer until our bodies are only inches apart.

Last season it was revealed that Amato driver Skyland Grant had deliberately tried to set Travis up for failure. He’s now in prison for blackmail and having a hand in the kidnapping of Travis’ wife.

“Right, because you’re so different from him.”

The haughty, dismissive tone disturbs me more than anything. It’s too familiar, too fucking familiar.

“Listen, princess⁠—”

“No, you listen.” She gets close enough to poke my chest with her pointer finger. “Whatever plans or designs you have to sabotage my brother this season, forget them right now. I promise you you’ll regret any and every form of deceit you try. I told you once before to stay the hell away from my brother. I meant it then, and I still mean it.”

The moment the words pass her full lips, she spins on her heels and heads down the stairs she came up just to tell me off.

I watch her the entire time she retreats, even as she waits for her car to come around to pick her up. Minutes go by before I recognize that I’m watching her vehicle retreat in the same manner she watched Luca Taylor do not long ago.

“Max,” Edwin’s voice calls from behind me. “What are you doing out here, mate?”

I spin to find my friend and agent standing at the entrance, tuxedo jacket opened, looking confused.

“Nothing. Did you get that meeting with Drummond?”

His expression reveals his disappointment.

“We’ll get him next time,” he promises.

I don’t bother to mask my disappointment. To which, he responds by changing the topic.

“Listen, there’s not much happening in there since Drummond left for the night. You’ve done all of the obligatory meetings and appearances with Drake, the engineers, and the other drivers. Why don’t we go to that party I told you about?”

My response is interrupted by more people exiting the fundraiser. The distant echoes of laughter and music don’t call to me like they once did even a year ago. The pulse to keep the night going in a much seedier place with fewer cameras doesn’t excite me.

Before I can give Edwin my decision, a voice calls my name.

“Max, we were looking for you inside,” an older man says, gesturing to the woman at his side.