Page 17

Cherry

“Read the message to me again.”

I groan and thrust my phone at Serena. I’ve read Nicky’s text message to her three times, and she still seems confused. I’m not exactly sure what it is about the five-word message that has tripped her up so much.

Nicky

Where are you going tonight?

“It’s just weird,” she says from her spot, rummaging through her suitcase. “Does it mean he’s coming out with us tonight?”

I shrug. “Who knows? It could mean he wants to know where to send James to watch out for me.”

She pouts. “That’s no fun!”

I make a face. “I know.”

Tonight, Serena and I are going out. Like, out , out.

To one of the hottest clubs in Miami. We’ve just finished a gruelling race weekend that ended in almost a photo finish at the checkered flag with Nicky just missing out on the win.

The team has taken the P2 as almost a loss and so we felt a night out was called for to cheer everyone up.

Patrick had been on board, using his semi-celebrity status to pull some strings and get us VIP access to “The Halo Room.” According to Google and every celebrity blog I scrolled through, it is the place to be in Miami.

“Do you think we’ll see any celebrities there?” Serena asks now. She’s combing through her clothes, spread out all over the floor around her. When she heard where we were going and with whom (she adores Patrick), she insisted we get ready together.

I think it’s all part of her master plan to play dress-ups with me like I’m her Barbie doll.

“We see celebrities all the time.”

It’s true. Apart from the F1 drivers wandering around every race weekend, there’s always some famous person visiting the garage or taking photos with the team.

Today alone we’d seen David Beckham (Serena hyperventilated and needed a time out afterwards) and Rhianna.

Now granted, it was from a distance, given we are mere plebs in the grand scope of things, but still, to be this close to this level of celebrity is pretty special.

Tanya almost blew up my phone when I sent her the photos of Rhi Rhi a mere three feet away from me. She was that excited.

“I know, I know. But being at work and being at a club is different,” Serena says. “At a club, we will be wearing something like this.”

She holds up a scrap of material that I can only guess is a dress, but there’s so little of it, I can’t be sure.

“You are dreaming if you think I’m wearing that.”

Her bottom lip juts out. “Cherry, you have that body and you do nothing with it. You’re always wearing t-shirts and jeans. Tonight, you’re going full glam. ”

I take my hair out of its ponytail and shake out my waves. “I can be full glam and not half-naked. Find something else.”

She puts the “dress” to the side and, with a long-suffering sigh, continues to hunt through the mountain of clothes.

“This is perfect.”

The dress she’s holding up this time actually resembles a dress. And it’s gorgeous.

“You don’t think it will clash with my hair?” It’s a halter-neck red dress that is fitted at the waist and flares out in a flirty skirt.

“Try it and see.”

I take the dress into her bathroom and pull it on, marvelling at how it fits me so well.

“What do you think?” I twirl in front of her, enjoying the way the skirt floats around my legs.

Her eyes light up as she looks me up and down. “It’s even prettier on. And the colour is amazing on you.”

I take in my reflection in the mirror. It’s true. Somehow, this shade of red makes my hair look richer and shinier. It doesn’t clash at all.

“Alright, I’ll wear it. Thanks for sharing your beautiful clothes with me.”

She pulls me in for a quick hug and I lean into her, grateful to have found a friend on the other side of the world.

“Now, what are we going to do with all your gorgeous hair?”

· · · · ·

Ninety minutes, a can of hairspray and a lot of bronzer later, we jump in an Uber.

“I’m so excited!” Serena is all but bouncing out of her seat and I wonder if that quick shot of tequila we’d had before we left the hotel room was a good idea. Her eyes have a feverish look to them that concerns me a little.

“Me, too.” I squeeze her hand and grin. Even though I’m not quite at her level of excitement, it’s still thrilling to have VIP access to the hottest club in one of the most vibrant cities I’ve ever visited.

“Did you text Nicky?”

I nod. I’d sent him the details of where we’re going and with whom and have heard nothing back. It wouldn’t surprise me at all to see James waiting at the entrance when we get there.

“He never comes out to these things with us,” Serena says. It’s like she doesn’t want me to get my hopes up.

She needn’t worry. I have no expectations of seeing Nicky tonight.

I mean, he went out of his way to spend the afternoon with me earlier this week, a small voice whispers in my brain. But that doesn’t mean he’ll appear out tonight, a louder voice whispers back. That voice sounds a lot like Troy and I hate it.

“Though he is doing a lot of unusual things this year.”

Her raised eyebrows tell me what’s on her mind.

As expected, the Instagram post from the Help 4 Hurricane Relief had gone viral.

In the hours after he’d posted it, the charity had received more calls and offers to help than they could cope with.

Mallory had called me later that night, embarrassed at having not recognised the world-famous F1 driver in her midst and was filled with gratitude for how we’d brought awareness to their cause.

She’d also mentioned that an anonymous donor had donated fifty thousand dollars shortly after we’d left.

We both knew that came from Nicky, but we chose not to say anything else about it .

“He’s always been charitable. He’s just being more public about it now,” I say. It annoys me that people don’t know this about Nicky. They see him as the Ice Man on the track and don’t realise he has a generous heart.

“But it’s more than just posting about the charity. That photo created quite the stir about the two of you.”

She’s not lying. While I’d been panicking about looking like a hot mess in the photo, the world was wondering who I was and why we were cuddling in the picture.

I’d only had to read a handful of comments before shutting it all down.

There are two camps out there; one that believes we are together and loving it, and the other thinking there’s no way he would ever be with me .

Either way…yikes.

“Yeah, well. It will all die down,” I tell her with a bunch of optimism that I’m not feeling. “Eventually.”

We pull up to the front of The Halo Room.

“This is it!” Serena opens the door and almost runs in her eagerness to get inside.

“Wait for me!” I wobble behind her in my highest heels and pray I don’t face-plant it on the concrete in front of this long line of people waiting to get in. With my latest bout of notoriety—thanks to Nicky’s post—I’d most likely end up going viral again. But for a different reason this time.

“Come on!” Serena is already at the front door, a smug look on her face as we’re waved straight through.

“I could get used to this,” she says. She links her arm through mine and we walk deeper into the club.

“Me, too,” I admit, my eyes darting this way and that. I want to soak it all in.

“Let’s get a drink. ”

I nod and follow her to the bar. My plan for the night is to alternate between alcohol and water. I do not want a repeat of the sake hangover to deal with in the morning.

“Hmm, yummy.” I’m not sure if Serena is referring to the pink fruity cocktails we’re drinking or the plethora of hot young men swarming around us, but either way—yes. It’s all yummy.

“We should dance.”

The bass of the dance tune playing thumps through the floor and up through my body. It’s so loud, my heart beats along with it.

“Yes!”

We find a spot at the edge of the crowded dance floor and I lose myself in the music. When I was with Troy, we never went out to clubs, we never danced together, and I’ve forgotten how much I love to do it.

“Is that Nicky?” Serena shouts in my ear.

I rub my battered ear drum and turn to where she’s pointing.

“I don’t see anything.” The place is so packed with people and the smoke machine is working overtime. I can barely see my hand in front of my face.

“Over there!”

I squint, finally seeing what she’s pointing at. There, at the back of the club, in a little roped-off area, is Nicky. He’s standing next to his friend and race engineer Paul, and a bunch of other people, staring at the dancefloor.

“Huh.” Though a small part of me had been hopeful he’d be here tonight, I’d really thought he’d just send James to watch out for me and had been surprised to find his bodyguard absent when I got here. Turns out, he is actually here tonight after all, just that he’s here to watch over Nicky.

“We should go and say hi,” Serena nudges me .

I nibble on my bottom lip, my old fears flaring back to life. What if he just wants to hang with his friends? If I go up to him, will I be cramping his style?

“Patrick is there, too,” she adds. “We should thank him for getting us in here.”

That makes more sense. I follow behind her, rubbing my sweaty palms along the front of my dress. I have a fluttery feeling in my belly that I don’t quite understand; it’s just Nicky and his friends. People I work with every week.

There’s just something about being in this dimly lit space, surrounded by writhing, dancing bodies, that makes it feel different.

“Hey, guys.”

Serena bounds up to the VIP area and is stopped by a giant man wearing sunglasses inside.

“They’re with us,” Patrick calls out.

We nod and smile at the scary man. We’re with them .

“Thanks.” Serena throws her arm around Patrick in a side hug. “And thanks for getting us in here.”

He smiles, his blue eyes twinkling even in the dim light. “You ladies look lovely tonight.”

I grin at this. He could tell me I look like garbage, and with his accent, it would still sound like a compliment.

“What are you drinking?”

“Champagne,” Serena says.