Page 35 of Drive Me Wild (Drive Me #2)

THIRTY-FIVE

JOSIE

A crispy tater tot with legs greets me by running full speed into my shins. Champ’s tongue hangs out of one side of his mouth while a fuzzy tennis ball occupies the other. He drops the ball expectantly at my feet as his tail wags so furiously it could double as a personal fan. Readjusting my bag so none of the contents spill out, I grab the ball and lob it down the empty hallway.

“Hi!” Ella’s head pops out of her office. “I have doughnuts. And coffee.”

I belt out a raspy chorus of Andrew Gold’s “Thank You For Being a Friend.” This early Tuesday morning call time isn’t ideal, but it’s the only free slot Kelsey and Ella both had in their busy schedules. Kelsey being a guest on an episode of Coffee with Champions is part of our PR-plan for opening month. He won’t be here for a bit, but Ella wanted me to go over her questions ahead of time.

Plus, I need ample time to grill her about what in the absolute hell that press conference was.

Walking into her office is like entering a sports museum. Paraphernalia decks the walls, but besides a few European football teams, all the jerseys and posters are American teams I’ve never heard of. I grab a chocolate-frosted doughnut and a cup of coffee from her paper-covered desk before settling into the lounge chair in the corner. Before I can take a bite, Champ once again drops the ball at my feet.

“No balls inside, Champ,” Ella says in a tone that’s hardly reprimanding. Surprisingly, Blake’s worse at disciplining than she is. He can make reporters and engineers cry with a single look, but saying no to Champ is nearly impossible for him. Ella nudges a plush cupcake toward him as an alternative. “Play with one of your other toys.”

“What’s the little man doing here? I thought he lost his privileges.”

Champ may be adorable, but he’s an absolute rascal. Ella’s recording studio is right next to her office, and the multi-colored patch cords snaking around and connecting the many consoles, mixers, and interfaces are all things for him to chew or piss on.

“Figured you could use some fluffy love,” Ella informs me with a grin. “And Blake has meetings all day, anyway, so I’m on doggie duty.”

“Meetings with McAllister?” I ask, not bothering to be coy.

“Mm-hmm.”

I’ve never been on the receiving end of one of Blake’s angry rants, but I’ve witnessed enough of them to know that William McAllister had better prepare for war. He deserves every bit of venom Blake sends his way. How could he let Avery manipulate Theo’s contract? I thought the social media clause was bad… but this? What was revealed during that press conference was just the tip of the iceberg of how they tried to manipulate Theo. It makes my stomach sink thinking about how they used his love for McAllister to convince him he should sign a contract that took away his talent.

Ella leans back in her chair and teasingly rolls her eyes. “He tried deleting his Instagram yesterday because he was annoyed by all the comments he was getting. Couldn’t figure out how to do it, so he just turned his phone off instead.”

Wes texted me that I should be glad I left before this happened because it’s a madhouse. All of McAllister’s marketing efforts have shifted to crisis mode. It’s probably for the best that I no longer work for them; there’s no telling if I’d accidentally change an Instagram caption from “Red suit, red car, red helmet, ready to win” to “Red everything. Ready for revenge.”

Ella takes a sip of her coffee, and I say coffee very loosely. It’s essentially almond milk with a splash of coffee. “Have you talked to Theo?”

I shake my head. Theo’s been completely ignoring my calls and texts, not even responding with a brief “we’ll chat soon” or “ttyl.” Guilt eats away at me, knowing that I left him to deal with this on his own.

Leaning back in the chair, I take an aggressive bite of my doughnut. “Why didn’t he tell me what was going on? Doesn’t he trust me? I’m his… was his girlfriend.”

Glancing down, I find Champ innocently chewing on my shoelaces. Lovely .

“It has nothing to do with trust, Jos.” Ella picks Champ up and places him in my lap. I really did need some puppy love. “He knew what you’d say if he told you. That he’d be an idiot to sign it, and he should drive for another team. Think about it. If Theo reacted poorly to you leaving McAllister, God only knows how he’d react if you told him to leave.”

“But I could’ve been someone to talk to,” I argue. “I know how to be objective.”

Ella laughs and shakes her head. “No, you don’t, Jos. And Theo loves you for it. You’ve always been his biggest fan. He’s an amazing driver?—”

“He’s a phenomenal driver.”

Okay, now I see her point about not being objective.

“Yes, he is. But Blake’s like Tiger Woods or Steph Curry.”

She looks at me expectantly, but I just shrug. “Who?”

“Are you kidding?” Ella rubs her hands against her face. “Tiger Woods is undoubtedly the best golfer! He’s won eighty-two PGA Tour events and has the lowest career scoring average ever. And Steph Curry may be one of the greatest point guards ever . He’s the reason teams now routinely utilize the three-point shot. And his wife Ayesha?—”

“Sorry, babes, but you lost me at ‘are you kidding?’” Sometimes I forget that Ella’s background is sports journalism. Her knowledge extends far beyond Formula 1, and she can easily chat with anyone about obscure stats that no human should have memorized.

She sticks her tongue out at me. “Let’s go with David Beckham. He’s British and plays soccer. Does that work?”

“Unfamiliar with soccer,” I tease. “What’s that?”

“ Football ,” Ella huffs. “All I’m saying is that every sport has an all-star. You could know nothing about the actual sport, but you know that one name. That’s Blake for Formula 1. His talent is once-in-a-lifetime legendary. And yes, I’m his girlfriend, so I’m also a bit biased, but you’ve seen him drive. He’s?—”

“Bloody impressive.”

There’s no denying Blake is Formula 1’s favorite. And not just because he’s handsome and elusive; he’s genuinely that good. He consistently delivers in all areas: defending and overtaking, tire management, attack strategy.

“Exactly,” Ella agrees. “But Theo’s always been your all-star. Since day one, he’s been your favorite. He’s never had to compete with Blake for your attention or affection.”

I finish my doughnut before nuzzling into Champ’s soft coat. “They took the clauses out, though, right? He can do his own social media? And not be Blake’s bitch?”

Ella raises a brow but lets the comment slide. “They did, but as far as I know, he still hasn’t signed.”

My thoughts swirl around my head so quickly that it makes it hard to see straight. “I need to talk to him.”

I don’t know when or how that’s going to happen, considering he’s dodging my calls like one of the bad guys in his video games. And not only is it the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix this weekend, it’s also Gemini’s soft opening.

“Are you finally done being single?” Ella asks with a chuckle.

I shoot her a cheeky wink. “I’ve always sucked at it, anyway.”

I’ve had enough time on my own. I can be alone, I know that. And I don’t need Theo, but I sure as hell want him. I want his loud laugh when I send him funny TikTok videos or burst into song. I want his weird two a.m. comments about how it’s odd that peeing in a urinal isn’t considered public indecency. I want to tell him about my day while I watch him kill dragons or build some sort of virtual fort.

He’s the Monsieur to my Mademoiselle. Good on their own, but even better together.