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CHAPTER SIX

ROCCO

R occo and Dario headed down to the ground floor of Maverick Racing headquarters.

Rocco had to admit the owner seemed serious and willing to put money into the operation.

The place was equipped with state-of-the-art technology—the latest in AI and machine learning.

There was a driver-in-loop simulator, wind tunnel, and dynos.

There was also a gym, sauna, showers, and even a cafeteria.

“So, what do you think?” Dario asked.

“About what?” Rocco replied.

“All this,” Dario said, holding his arms out wide.

“Not bad. Actually, pretty damn good. Even if I did get the biggest beatdown of my life for posting that stupid tweet.”

“What did you expect?” Dario said. “You said it yourself. It was stupid. We’re talking major money here. You pissed all over a major, major, major announcement the PR team had set up.”

Rocco sulked. “I know.”

It was such a boneheaded move.

Both Rocco and Dario glanced at the entrance. Celeste, Dario’s girlfriend, was due to arrive any minute.

“Nico Angelini brings out the worst in me,” Rocco huffed.

“Don’t blame it on her. You’re the one who hit send. You’re going to have to cool your jets, dude. It’s in your own—correction— our own best interest.”

Rocco sighed. “I need coffee.”

“They have coffee.”

“That’s not coffee.”

“I suppose you were thinking there’d be a double espresso waiting for you?”

“Very funny.”

The mere mention of espresso had him thinking about the dream he’d had last night.

She was wearing that white T-shirt. She walked toward him, carrying an espresso and a jelly doughnut.

He was sitting down so she had to bend over to hand it to him.

When she did, he pierced the doughnut with his finger and scooped out the jelly.

He crooked his finger, beckoning her to come closer.

The jelly was dripping onto his thighs, and he remembered it feeling hot.

He was just about to reach out and trace her nipples with the jelly and then lick it off when he woke up.

It was a good dream. A real good dream. He just wished he hadn’t woken up when he did. And he wished it had been some other girl and not Nico Angelini.

He might have told Dario about the dream if she hadn’t been in it.

Rocco didn’t want his cousin reading anything into it.

It didn’t mean anything. It made perfect sense she’d be in the dream.

He’d seen her earlier that day and was hit with the shitty news she’d be his teammate.

As for the espresso—well, that was because of his tweet.

As for the rest of it, the jelly and all—well—that was because of the T-shirt.

He shook his head. It did him no good to think about any of it now.

He nudged Dario. “Do you think Celeste would go get me some espresso?”

“They have espresso.”

“I tried it. It isn’t any good.”

“Why don’t you go get some?”

“I’m too tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“You don’t suppose it has anything to do with your tweet?”

Rocco sighed but remained silent.

“Well,” Dario said, “you can ask Celeste.”

“Why don’t you ask? She’s your girlfriend.”

“That’s precisely why I won’t. Not after that tweet.”

Rocco groaned. “Am I going to have to apologize to her? I don’t want Celeste mad at me. I don’t like it when she’s mad. She’s a real sweetheart, but when she’s mad she can be …”

Dario grinned. “A big meanie?” He paused. “You know, you’re going to have to find a way to get along with her.”

“Celeste? We get along great! I love her! Why? Did she say something?”

Dario laughed. “No, I mean Nico.”

“Oh. Her .”

“Yes. Her . I’m surprised there’s been no response to the tweet.”

“I suppose I should consider myself lucky. If she responds, anything I say is going to make me sound like a—”

“Douche?”

Rocco remained silent.

“Wanker?” Dario suggested. “Prick? Jagoff?”

Sounds about right.

Dario patted him on the back. “Don’t worry. That ship has sailed.”

Rocco sighed.

Just then Celeste entered, and they both waved at her.

Smiling, she waved back.

“We’ll hear from her … eventually,” Rocco said, not ready to drop the subject. “I can see those conniving black eyes as she crafts her response.”

Dario frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen black eyes.” He paused. “Hey, how do you know her eyes are black? When we met her, she was wearing sunglasses. Unless …” Dario grinned, nudging him. “You’ve been googling her, haven’t you? Looking up images?”

Rocco hadn’t. Dario was right. He had no idea what color her eyes were.

I must have been thinking of that woman at the bar.

He shook his head. “I haven’t been looking her up. I don’t know why I said that.”

It took a while for Celeste to reach them, as she stopped multiple times chatting with the people she passed. Once she left them, they were all smiles. Everyone loved Celeste.

She had a slender build, wide-set blue eyes, a heart-shaped face, and dimples when she grinned. She was a looker with a wicked sense of humor. That coupled with a heart of gold made her a real gem and Dario one of the luckiest guys on the planet in Rocco’s opinion.

Once she’d made it through the trail of admirers she’d left behind, she and Rocco exchanged pecks on the cheek while she shared a more intimate embrace with Dario.

“Celeste,” Rocco pleaded, doing his best to look like an abandoned puppy. “Would you go get me an espresso?”

“No,” she huffed. “I can’t believe you even asked after that stupid sexist tweet.”

“Why was that sexist? Okay, stupid, yes. But sexist? I didn’t say it because she’s a woman.”

“‘You’re so full of shit, if you ever had an enema you’d evaporate into thin air.’”

Dario laughed.

Celeste lifted her chin. “Valentino said that.”

Rocco frowned. “Who the hell is Valentino?”

“A character from a novel by Catherine Doyle, Mafiosa .”

“ Maf — Wait a minute. Is this from one of those romance novels you’re always reading?”

He flinched when Dario’s elbow jolted into his side.

Dario shook his head and then quickly transitioned to a smile when he caught Celeste glaring at him.

He turned back to Rocco. “Dude, you know, she’s kind of right.”

“I am not kind of right ,” Celeste said. “There is no such thing as kind of right. There’s only right and wrong. I am right.” She poked Rocco’s chest. “And you are wrong.”

Nodding, Dario wrapped his arm around her. “You are right.”

“And … ?” Celeste prompted.

“He is wrong,” he said, jerking his thumb at Rocco.

Dario was biting his lip, and his cheeks were beginning to crimson.

Asshole. He wants to laugh. Again .

There was a sudden stirring, confused utterances, and some catcall whistles and laughing.

Rocco turned his gaze toward the entrance.

“OMG!” Celeste exclaimed with a huge smile on her face.

A crowd of men were walking this way, wearing short black dresses with frilly white aprons. They were carrying pink boxes, pitchers, and paper bags.

What the—

Dario chuckled. “Celeste, did you do this?”

She shook her head. “I wish! I owe a thank-you to whoever did. I’m enjoying the show.”

Rocco could guess what Celeste was enjoying. They were all good-looking and extremely fit, with impressive chests, biceps, and tapered waists.

Probably exotic dancers , he thought. They had the bodies for it.

“What the hell are they wearing?” Rocco demanded.

Celeste rolled her eyes. “Don’t you recognize a French maid’s outfit when you see one?”

Just then a space opened between a couple of the men, and there was Nico Angelini, carrying a tray with what looked like a double espresso and a cappuccino on it.

She was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, which while not exactly tight was not exactly loose either.

She handed the espresso and cappuccino to two of the men.

One walked up to Rocco. “Your double espresso, Mr. Vittori.”

Rocco smiled. “Thank you. How do you manage those things?” he asked, pointing at the heels he was wearing.

“It ain’t easy. I have a lot more sympathy for my mother and sisters.”

Chuckling, Rocco nodded.

Dario, cappuccino in hand, joined Celeste and walked over to Nico while some of the team members helped themselves to doughnuts and pastries.

Celeste beamed. “This is just about the best breakfast I have ever had!” She held out her hand. “It’s a real pleasure to finally meet you, Nico. I’m Celeste. Dario’s girlfriend.”

They shook hands.

Celeste’s eyes were gleaming. “Oh, you and I are going to be good friends! I’ve been looking at clips of some of your races. Damn impressive.”

Nico smiled. “Thank you. That’s nice of you to say.”

“Nice has nothing to do with it,” Celeste scoffed. “I only speak the truth. Ask Dario. He’ll tell you. He’s usually the one who catches smoke as a result.”

They laughed, and the rest of what was said got drowned out by everyone around them.

Hank, the controls engineer, winked at Nico. “You’re okay, kid.”

Laura, the engine systems engineer, gave her a thumbs-up.

Rocco folded his arms, his temples throbbing.

Why the hell did you send that tweet?

He watched as the mechanics expressed their approval by slapping her on the shoulder, giving her a bro-hug or a high-five. Some welcomed her to the team and said they were looking forward to working with her.

Leave it alone. Leave. It. Alone.

But that part of him that lurked in the deeper, darker depths of him couldn’t.

Wouldn’t.

“Oh, miss,” Rocco called out. He raised one eyebrow when she turned and met his gaze. “May I have some sugar?”

She pasted a saccharine sweet smile laced with arsenic on her face and picked up a small box of sugar cubes.

He scanned the room. Most of the team had ventured off. Only a few remained and, like Dario and Celeste, were focused on the coffee and pastries.

He quickly hooked his foot around a nearby chair, dragging it up behind him, and sat down.