Page 35 of Faster

Chapter Twenty-Six

“When I was at Lupo in the nineties,” Micaela’s father said as he stood in front of Panther’s entire factory staff, “the team had already won more championships than any other on the grid. I didn’t have a lot of opportunities to give ‘inspirational’ speeches because the team didn’t look to me for inspiration.

I was supposed to get in the car and just drive.

” Jack looked to Liam, expecting to see something supportive on his face, but Micaela could feel her boss/lover’s glare homed in on the man who’d raised her.

“Panther hasn’t won any championships, but Micaela chose to come here anyway.

” He paused. “Which shows you just what kind of daughter I have.” She half expected him to follow that up with some joke about “stupid broads,” but she was pleasantly surprised when he contained himself.

“She’s always looking to do the hard thing.

” Not really a compliment, but that was about as close as it got.

Liam leaned slightly toward her, and she fought not to look up at him.

It was getting so hard to keep her feelings off her face when it came to him—they’d permeated her whole being—that she didn’t look at him at all anymore when they were in public.

She savored this moment, when it was totally appropriate for him to say, “I don’t know how you turned out so well with a father like him. ”

She couldn’t help but glance at him then. He was smiling at her, and her face just automatically did the same thing. “It was easy. I just watched his actions and did the opposite thing.”

Someone snapped a picture, and she remembered where she was.

She looked back to her father and pasted an expression of placid acceptance on her face.

Women all over the world knew how to avoid looking murderous when forced to listen to someone or something insufferable.

She was worried her face would stay that way if this went on much longer.

“After dinner, you are coming home with me.” Liam made declarations like this almost every day now.

It was rare that he didn’t find a way for them to be together, but their ruse—that they were just team boss and driver—was becoming more complicated.

She was pretty sure Paola knew they were dating.

Her concerned looks and inquiries about “how everything was going” had become more and more frequent in the past few weeks since Monaco.

Micaela had put in a miracle of a lap and put her car on pole. The pit stops had been perfect—economical and precise. By the end of the short race, there’d been a five-second gap between her and the driver behind her. Bendetto and Harrow had come in second and third.

When she’d gotten out of her car, Liam had already been in parc fermé . She’d climbed on top of the engine box and raised her arms above her head, looking to the clear, blue sky. She’d wanted to memorize the clouds at that moment. She’d been sure she’d never feel that happy ever again.

But then, when she’d climbed off the car, Liam had swept her up in his arms, yelling how proud he was of her in her ear.

She should probably talk to a psychotherapist about what it meant that she’d soaked up his praise like a plant that had been starved of water for too long.

Before long, the team had crowded around them, and they’d been separated by her having to get weighed and go into the cooldown room.

Luca and Ethan had been smiling widely at each other, more at ease than they’d been the entire season, but they immediately congratulated her and complimented her on avoiding debris from a crash that had caused an early safety car.

She wasn’t sure if the two other drivers—the ones leading the championship—were actually cool with her or if they were only trying to appear that way in front of the media. After all, there was gossip flying around that they’d reconciled their friendship for the good press.

Micaela knew from growing up in this world that the glossy exterior never told the entire story, and you couldn’t believe what people told you to your face.

Her father was a prime example of that. He pretended to be the proud papa to the grid’s new racing prodigy when Micaela well knew that he was seething with jealousy toward his own daughter. He’d always hoarded the spotlight and punished her when she’d taken any of his shine.

When she was six, a reporter had spent a paragraph talking about Micaela hurtling down the drive of the manor in her go-kart—a go-kart that her father had purchased to look like a good dad for this profile—and he’d smashed it with a sledgehammer because the reporter had omitted the charity golf tournament he’d wanted to publicize.

He’d gone out and bought her a new one the next day, but still.

It made her constantly wonder if her overwhelming attraction and growing attachment to Liam was simply about her wanting to make her childhood right.

He didn’t treat her like his daughter at all—especially not when she’d slipped up and called him “Daddy” in bed the other night.

Thank God he didn’t even stop when that happened; she would have been mortified.

Or maybe she was just so unused to having a man actually care about her feelings that she thought it was a mental health issue when she liked it?

Her father wrapped up his speech—only ten minutes beyond his allotted time—and everyone clapped politely. Then Paola stepped up to the microphone. “Liam has brought in lunch for everyone as a ‘thank you’ for the win in Monaco.”

The whole team clapped louder for that than they did for her father. She was sure there would be repercussions for that later.

Liam made sure Micaela wasn’t seated next to her father during lunch. He’d have preferred she be seated next to him, but that wasn’t possible. People would start to suspect there was something between them if he had her near him all the time.

As it was, they were playing with fire. He didn’t want to lose his job, but he knew that was the likely result of their affair the longer and longer it went on.

He’d never been addicted to anything—except for winning—his entire life.

But he imagined that the throes of craving felt something like what he wanted from Micaela.

God, he had to fight not to smile when someone said her name.

“How’s Mikey doing?” Liam winced at her father’s question, knowing how much she hated when he called her that.

“She’s winning races,” Liam replied. “How do you think she’s doing?”

Sir Jack laughed. “I think she’s a flash in the pan. She’ll be out before the beginning of next season. People think they want a girl on the grid, but that’s just all the new fans. Once they lose interest, she won’t be able to hold on to her sponsors and she’ll lose her seat.”

Liam ground his back teeth together to avoid stabbing the man next to him with a fork. He should have seated him far away from anyone he could offend, but that would have required him to sit in the middle of the pond outside the factory and someone confiscating his phone.

“Micaela is probably the most naturally talented driver I’ve ever worked with.” He might be sleeping with her, but that wasn’t a lie. “Being a woman on track has nothing to do with it.”

Her father gave him a sideways glance. “She’s only here because of me.”

“Maybe some of her talent was inherited, but I’m glad she ended the generational curse of the Cartwright ego.” Liam shouldn’t have said it, but it felt good to defend her. He would always defend Micaela, even when she woke up and ended things between the two of them.

Luckily, her father thought he was joking and had no inkling that Liam was fighting not to wrap his hands around the other man’s neck.

He looked around the room until he spotted Micaela laughing with a group of engineers.

They all appeared to be a little bit in love with her, and Liam couldn’t even be jealous. She was just like that.

Sitting next to her father, he had to wonder how she ended up being kind and down to earth.

Maybe people just naturally became their parents or the opposite of their parents, depending on their choices.

Seeing his son, sitting on the opposite side of the room from his teammate, he wondered what he would choose.

Liam knew he hadn’t been the perfect father—and he definitely wasn’t behaving like one now.

Brent was deep in conversation with Paola.

He was glad he’d tasked her with looking after him.

Something she’d said must have gotten through to him where nothing Liam had done had been able to.

He was showing up on time to his press responsibilities and avoiding giving flippant, sarcastic answers.

And while he wasn’t as fast as Micaela on track, he wasn’t throwing tantrums or making mistakes that cost the team points.

Paola even had him wearing a suit and engaging with the sponsor execs they’d invited for Sir Jack’s speech and luncheon. She was a miracle worker, as far as he was concerned.

Micaela’s laugh echoing through the large room brought his attention back to her.

He tried not to stare at her, knowing there were always people watching them when they weren’t alone.

If anyone was really paying attention, they would know he had feelings for her.

He’d always been able to keep his cards close to his vest before, but something about her stripped that ability away.

She filled a room with her essence, and he was drawn to it like nothing else.

“Well, she’ll stay on the grid if she has ’em looking at her like that.” Liam had been trying to ignore his lunch companion, but those leering words brought him back. Sir Jack would think anything about his daughter except that she had the talent and drive to be where she was.

Some of the things that Micaela had said—just offhand comments—had made him think her father was a huge twat.

And the man was just proving that over and over.

He glanced at Sir Jack and found that he was referring to the way the engineers were hanging on her every word.

He was almost relieved the other man hadn’t seen the way Liam had been looking at her moments before.

But Sir Jack Cartwright respected Liam—as much as he respected anyone—and so he wouldn’t think Liam would be caught up in anyone as insignificant as the girl he’d raised.

“Do you think she’s sleeping with all of them? Or just a few?” The other man really didn’t know how close he was to losing his life.

Liam put down his fork and gripped the table.

He took three deep breaths, hoping he could calm himself down enough to not make a scene.

He’d always known the man was an asshole; he’d only hoped he’d grown up a little since they’d raced each other.

It was evident he hadn’t, and his lack of maturity and toxic attitudes hadn’t poisoned his daughter.

It was now clear to him he’d done the worst job as a parent imaginable, simply by being himself. And he could say that as someone carrying on an affair with his son’s ex-girlfriend who worked for him.

Although he couldn’t imagine a universe without Micaela in it, some people truly shouldn’t have children.

Liam himself might be going to hell for what he and Micaela were doing, but at least he’d done his best with Brent while he was growing up.

It wasn’t enough—it was never enough—but his son didn’t have stories about him that made people cringe instead of laugh.

Not yet.