Rush: Part One & Two (The Pitstop Series Book 3)

Present…

It’s been two days since I’ve seen anyone but my brother, and I enjoy the peace and quiet. Adrian asked me if we could host a dinner tomorrow night, inviting Jean, Gabriel, and, ugh, Kira. After giving it a lot of thought, I agreed to co-host. There is no point in avoiding them when Adrian needs to have a good relationship with his teammate. However, I’m dreading to see Gabriel and Kira cozied up the entire evening. There are better ways to spend my time.Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

Since I got back, I have been trying to find somewhere to buy clothes, but I’ve been unsuccessful. For the third day in a row, I am strolling past cafés and restaurants when I spot a single boutique in-between two coffee shops named Rush. The place has an antique style, and my interest is piqued. It is charming, and the light-red-colored bricks which build up the tiny clothing store are captivating.

There are three mannequins in the window display. The first one is wearing a simple blue skirt with a white tank top and a matching blazer. The second mannequin is wearing black jeans, a green blouse, and black high heels. The last outfit, however, is the one that catches my attention the most. It is a long red dress covered in white flowers. I want to have it. My feet move before my mind catches up.

The inside of the store is just as elegant as the outside. The same bricks decorate the walls, and the racks of clothing are neatly placed around the room.

“Bonjour,” a petite woman says behind me, and I turn to her. She must be at least seventy with long, gray hair and crystal blue eyes. The woman is breathtaking, and the smile on her lips is inviting. “Can I help you?” she asks, continuing to speak to me in French. It is good to be back because it allows me to practice my mother tongue.

“Yes, please,” I reply with the same level of warmth in my smile, I hope. “How much is the red dress from the mannequin in the window?” A knowing smile appears on her face, and I cannot explain the comfort I feel around her.

“Fifty euros,” she informs me, and I almost take out my wallet to buy it. “There are more sizes on the far left.” I find a medium and go into the small changing room to try it on. The silky fabric feels smooth against my skin, and the dress highlights my curvy body in a sexy yet classy way. “How was it?” she asks when I come back out, and I beam at her.

“I love it. I’m going to buy it,” I inform her, and she nods, the same kind smile as earlier spreading over her face. “Do you mind if I keep looking?”

“Not at all. Take your time, mademoiselle.” Her French is flawless, and so are her clothes. I go through the racks and find seven more items. “Are you from here?” the sweet lady asks me.

“Oui, madame,” I reply.

“I thought so. I can hear it in your French.” I am glad I don’t sound like a foreigner, which is why my smile brightens.

“How long have you had this store for?” I inquire, wanting to make conversation.

“My husband bought it for me after he won his first Formula One championship.” I almost drop the clothes I’m holding and turn my full attention toward her.

“My brother is an F1 driver!” Her eyes go wide as well.

From there on, we talk for hours about her husband, whom I then find out is Carlos Klein, the youngest driver to win a race and a championship thus far. She tells me about his first race and his last one. However, I refrain from sharing my racing story because it’s too embarrassing. After all, she is married to a Formula One legend.

“How did the two of you meet? If I may ask,” I say, hoping I don’t offend her in any way. She and I have more in common than I would have ever expected at first glance.

“In school. I was a junior when he was a senior, and we were paired together for a project. I was in his math class since I was very good at it, and that is where we met. However, it took months for us to become more than friends.” She lets out a small laugh, and I love the way her cheeks flush and eyes sparkle as she talks about her husband. “I thought his career would take him far away from me, and I didn’t want to fall for him, but I had no choice. Luckily, he didn’t have one either and fell at my feet. It’s something for the books, I tell you.” Her index finger waves around in front of me, and the smile on my face becomes permanent. “But enough about me. Is there anyone special in your life?”

“I used to have a boyfriend, his name was Luke, but he was not good for me. I broke up with him and never looked back. There’s been someone else on my mind for a very long time.” I don’t know why I am opening up to this woman, but I enjoy talking to someone about how I feel.

“Does the other boy know about your feelings?” I blow raspberries but recover quickly when she cocks an eyebrow.

“No, madame. He has a girlfriend he seems very serious about, and I am not ready to embarrass myself. We’re good friends, and I wouldn’t want to ruin that either. Not to mention, he is friends and teammates with my brother, which complicates the situation even further.” Her eyes narrow slightly, and I’m afraid of what she will say next.

“You never know. Maybe he isn’t happy; maybe he has feelings for you too. Some relationships take too much work, and both people end up being unhappy. Or he could be doing the same thing you did when you were dating Luke. He could be distracting himself.” Boy, she is good. I didn’t even have to tell her about my motivation behind being with Luke.

“Maybe, but I can’t take the risk. He means too much to me.” She nods, and we move to the small, wooden table at the front, where the cash register is. “It was really nice talking to you. I hope I can see you again,” I tell her, and she nods in agreement.

“That would be lovely. My store is always open, dear. I’m here Monday to Saturday, ten to eight.” I hand her my card, and she swipes it on the machine. “Whenever you need someone to talk to.”

“I will take you up on that offer,” I reply, and she hands me my card back. “I never got your name,” I say, realizing I haven’t.

“My name is Evangelin.” She holds out her hand for me, and I shake it cautiously.

“Valentina. It is a pleasure to have met you.” Evangelin hands me the bag with clothes and grins.

“Likewise. And here, take this, dear.” She hands me a black leather jacket, and I gasp. “Please, don’t tell me you cannot accept it. You bought so much, and I know you will look stunning in this,” she adds, and I have no idea what to say to her. I simply take it and put it in the bag.

“Merci.” Evangelin walks around the table and squeezes my arm ever so gently.

“Good luck, Valentina.” My cheeks flush, and I nod, hiding the embarrassed expression on my face with a polite smile. We exchange goodbyes, and I make my way home.

Adrian, James, and Gabriel are at work, which means I have the whole house to myself without possible interruptions. Whenever I do, I go upstairs to the training room. There is a racing simulator, weights, a treadmill, and bands for neck exercises… Those are the worst yet most important ones. I start by doing some cardio before moving to the weights and then going through the pain of strengthening my neck. The last part is the simulator. Adrian used to call it a fancy video game, but for me, it has always been a way to stay connected to the sport.

I put on the helmet I bought when I first started training with the simulator in L.A. and sit down in the seat, which looks exactly like those in a Formula One car. It’s a bit uncomfortable because it’s fitted for Adrian’s body, but he lets me use it whenever I want. The screens in front of me are bright, and as always, excitement courses through me. I choose the Singapore track since part of it drives through the city and part on the permanent racetrack. In real life, it’s one of my favorites because of how beautiful Singapore is.

Once I’ve selected the track, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. All of my senses heighten while I feel the adrenalin rush through my veins. This is as close as I can get to racing in a Formula One car, and it’s always a thrill, even if it’s only a simulation. When I open my eyes again, I wait for the lights to go out and push down on the gas pedal, pressing the right buttons simultaneously.

I could stay in the simulator for hours, but unfortunately, it’s exhausting, and my body gets tired quickly. By the time I get out of the seat again, I smile like a happy child, satisfied with my performance. Adrian arrives at home minutes after I finish showering and getting dressed. He comes to my room to let me know he will wash and be right down to have dinner with me.

As I place the lasagna between our plates, Adrian reappears with a big grin on his face and a towel in his hand. He rubs it over his wet hair, and within seconds, it is dry. How unfair…

“How was your day?” I ask, and he shrugs as he places some food on my plate.

“It was good. Daniel and I got a lot of work done.” Daniel is Adrian’s performance coach, supporting him in his mental and physical training daily. It’s almost as if they shadow the drivers, and, during the race weekend, I often compare them to moms, carrying everything the driver might need in their bags. The performance coaches are in charge of warm-up exercises, muscle regeneration after the races, and countless other things. Daniel and Adrian are very close like many drivers are with their coaches. “I’m getting ready to get back in the car. I’m also getting more nervous every day, Val. So fucking nervous,” he says and slightly laughs. “How was your day?” He takes a bite of the lasagna, and a happy moan escapes him. “This is so good.” He talks fast and hurriedly as if he is running out of time, but instead of pointing it out to him, I go along with it. I don’t want to make him feel worse by telling him how on edge he seems.

“I had a good day. I met a very kind woman. Her name is Evangelin, and she is so sweet. And you won’t believe who her husband is!” Adrian waits patiently, and I smile brightly. “Carlos Klein!” He drops his fork, and it makes a loud clink with the porcelain plate. Carlos Klein has been Adrian’s hero ever since he was five years old.

“You have to introduce me to him. Valentina Esmèe Cèlia Romana, you have to introduce me to him. Please, please, please,” he begs, and I let out a small laugh.

“Okay, relax. I haven’t even met Carlos, and I have only met her today. Please, don’t make this uncomfortable for me. If I ever meet him, I will let him know how big of a fan you are, and he may do what he wants with that information. Maybe, and only if you’re nice, I’ll ask him if you could meet him.” Even though I’m giving him a lot of hypotheticals, he smiles childishly. “Anyway,” I go on, and he focuses on my face once again. I notice how much curlier his hair is when it is roaming free after a shower. “I bought a really nice dress for tomorrow, and Evangelin gifted me a leather jacket.” Adrian hearkens politely to the events of my day.

I take a bite of my food and listen to all of the changes Adrian has to figure out this season. Driving for a new team is very challenging, especially when the cars are ever developing. It is impressive to hear about the technological advances the team has engineered, and something inside of me gets incredibly jealous. There is little I want more than to sit in a Formula One car and feel the adrenalin course through me as I race down the track. I push the thought aside because this is not about me.

After Adrian is finished talking about his work, we eat in silence for a while until he starts a conversation about Gabriel. I only listen to half of it because my mind battles with whether it’s time to share how I feel. My mouth is quicker than my restraints can hold me back. “I have feelings for Gabriel.” Adrian doesn’t seem surprised by this new information, and I don’t know whether he is mad at me or just speechless. Why isn’t he reacting? This is huge! I expect some kind of response. It doesn’t matter if it’s good or bad, just something!

“I know, Val,” he says, and my mouth slightly drops. “I’ve known for a long time.”

“Oh,” is all I can say, and when he finally smiles at me, I feel relieved. “I know it’s stupid, and he is with Kira, but I don’t know what to do.” He puts his fork down again and takes a deep breath. His face is serious, but he also seems pleased in a way.

“I don’t know either,” he admits and crosses his arms as he leans back. His eyes never leave mine, but he runs his tongue over his teeth. It makes his face look weird, and I wait impatiently for him to continue. “What I do know is that he doesn’t deserve you in the slightest. Yes, I’m biased because I think you are my favorite person on the planet, but I also know who he is.” What the hell does that mean? He takes another brief break, and I don’t think I’m going to get an explanation. “However, I’m here for you whenever you want to talk about your feelings.” I get up and walk over to him before wrapping my arms around his shoulders and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Thank God, you finally admitted it. I was making secret bets with myself.”

“I’m very worried about you,” I say and laugh a little.

A weight has been lifted off my shoulders because I finally know how Adrian feels about this.