Off the Track Series, Book 1
Amelia has a last name that opens doors. A last name she didn't ask for, but can never shake. A legacy. Legacy be damned, she wants to make it on her own. And she has. After years at EPSN, she lands the job of a lifetime...
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In typical fashion, we end up partying at a back room again after the race. Tired of wearily eyeing Charles get unusually deep in the cups I've instead decided to befriend Daniel's blonde friend who made a second appearance to the British Grand Prix.
She even has a princess name! Elsa is a luxury automobile dealer, a business she didn't shy away from telling me she inherited after her father finally, in her words drank himself to death. I get the sense Elsa is a hard woman, made determined and strong by her surroundings and I love her immediately. When she describes how she turned the company her father all but bankrupted into one of the most elite in Europe, the passion is shining on her.
We become fast friends, uniting over a mutual love of fast cars and tequila. We'd getting on like an absolute house on fire and I totally see why Daniels into her. Hell, I'm into her. She's just telling me about how her latest conquer in finding a client a Ferrari F40 LM when I notice Charles walking - no, staggering over towards us.
"That's impressive as hell, there's not even twenty of those made." I respond to her but my heads not in it anymore.
Charles shirt only has two buttons left clinging together and he is literally barely able to walk.
What the hell honestly? Maybe it was just the emotions of the day. I shouldn't judge how he deals with his pain.
"Dance?" He asks me through a slurred voice as he's extending a hand.
More like smuggle you out the back home to a bed and water pronto. Instead I say, "Sure" and rise to stand with my new plan in mind.
He gives me a big smile and promptly ends over to puke all over my shoes.
Oh, thank fuck I wore boots and not heels tonight.
Before I can process what just happened, Max is at Charles side. Pulling his all to drunk friend under his arm in one swift motion he states what I know to be fact "Time to go home buddy."
Charles tried to protest, his usually bright eyes glazed over from the alcohol. "One more drink!"
One second of eye contact with Max tells me one thing, we think not.
Charles always parties, but he sure doesn't always double fist for hours in end like this normally.
Whatever. Shoes are replaceable.
"Want to get out of here?" I ask Charles as if it were any other night.
"I want a pet dog." The words are barely understandable now so I take this as a yes, pulling Charles other shoulder over mine.
