Trackside Temptation

Chapter Eighteen

FRANCESCA

I stood at the edge of the paddock, watching Matt engage with an eager reporter. He'd done brilliantly in qualifying yesterday, which meant he was leading the grid this afternoon. The atmosphere was perfect, and the buzz of excitement for Matt's return to the competition was tangible.

"So, I know you're starting first today," the reporter began. "But could you put that to beginner's luck? Or should I say post-accident luck?"

I didn't know what kind of question that was. Maybe the reporter was inept? Maybe they wanted to spark some sort of reaction out of the guy? Either way, it was stupid.

Matt shrugged as a number of microphones pointed in his direction. He looked over at me as he began his case, "Well, I was leading before this so I don't know why a little sprain in my hand would knock me off my feet. This isn't about luck, it's about skill. The team and I have worked hard for this moment, and I know it will pay off."

I nodded in Matt's direction, approving of his response. That was a good answer—he didn't need to say anything else.

I suddenly felt a friendly fist-bump on my triceps and turned to see Theo grinning next to me.

"Hello," I said excitedly. Theo was the kind of guy you met once and then would assume he was your friend from there. We hadn't spoken more than the casual small talk, but he'd never pass up on an opportunity to wave, even if he was being interviewed.

"You ready for the race? Starting second is impressive," I said.

Theo laughed. "Yeah, so are seven podiums this year." He cringed at his own words. "I'm kidding, obviously."

I rolled my eyes and laughed. "Oh, yeah sure."

Theo looked at Matt, who was now finishing his interview with an evident frown. "How's your prodigy? He ready to get schooled by Santoro today?"

I looked at Theo, my jaw wide. "Um, excuse me. You guys don't hold back do you?" I giggled. "In all seriousness, I'm just glad he's allowed on the track again."

"Yeah, I can imagine he must've been a nightmare over the past few weeks."

I thought back to everything we'd gone through since Monaco. Contrary to Theo's statement, Matthias was actually much better when he wasn't racing. I didn't know what it was, but he was calm, more relaxed and kind(er). Of course, he had his moments of frustration when he saw the rest of the drivers out there, but he maintained great composure despite everything that had happened.

"Well, I think that's my cue," Theo said as the reporter, who was interviewing Matt, signalled for him to take his place.

"Good luck today," I yelled out.

Before I knew it, Matt was walking over to me—his frown lingering like a shadow.

I rolled my eyes. "I don't want to hear it."

Matt didn't listen. "He's a fucking pest."

I stuck my hands on my hips and this time, I was frowning. "Oh, shut up. It's called being friendly."

Matt shook his head. "No, he's only acting that way to get information out of you."

Something about his words hurt me. Was that how everyone perceived me? Was I just a tool they could use? That was all Sam saw me as. I shuddered at the memory.

"That's not true." It wasn't. Of all the conversations I'd had with Theo, none of them even mentioned De Rossi or their strategy, aside from Theo's check-in to see how Matt was doing. You know... because he was displaying kindness and all.