The Dangerous Ones [✔️] (#1 in the Chilvati Series)

TWENTY-SIX

"Okay." She turned back to him. "I hope your little car is up to this."

"Since you're so confident, how about a small wager?"

"Since when are you so desperate for money, Spinelli?"

His eyes were full of mischief. "If I win, you have to come out for drinks with me tonight. If you win, you get two hours of my labor to use as you please, at your leisure."

"You're on, but it sounds like I get the better deal."

The Ferrari's window started its ascent. "You're not going to win, though . . . Anytime you're ready . . . You can start . . . I'll catch up." The window finished its climb.

Giving him the evil eye, she brought her own windows up. With each pump on the accelerator, she felt the car shimmy on its shocks. He was doing the same, although the Ferrari sounded more like a purr beside the growl of the Mustang. She took a deep breath, puffing her cheeks with the slow exhale as she studied the stretch of road in front of her.

And realized just how much she wanted to beat him.

"Here we go, Jack. Let's test out all the love you put into this car," she murmured, touching the badge dangling from her rearview. Grabbing the shifter, she shoved the car into first. Pressing her foot down hard to get the engine revving high . . . she dropped the clutch. The Mustang launched forward, the back end spinning out until its big tires found their grip and held.

She could see him in her peripheral vision. After only a moment's delay, he was on the move. When the engine roared in complaint, she shifted into second, causing the car to pause and lurch forward again. He was keeping up to her, about two seconds behind if she had to guess. Reaching another shift point, her hand worked fast, over and up.

The warehouses became a steady blur through her windows, the streetlights seeming to pulse as she passed in and out of their respective reaches. Buildings gave way to paved parking lots dotted with trucks and other machinery. Shifting into fourth, she let out a strangled gasp—he was catching her.

As his car crept up, so too did her irritation . . . With only three-hundred yards to the bridge, he had half a car length on her. "Damn it!"

As if hearing her curse, his advantage started to shrink. Within seconds he was back to the nose-to-nose position . . . By the time they went under the overpass, she was ahead.

Spinelli slammed on his brakes, disappearing from view. Virginia took her foot off the gas and knocked the shifter out of gear, letting her car slow on its own instead. "He let me win," she hissed as she turned the wheel and headed back to him. It annoyed her that he could beat her.

It annoyed her even more that he didn't.

He was already out of his car, ankles crossed and arms linked, leaning back against the driver's window.

She stopped and stepped out, bringing her arms up to lean between the door and the roof as she scowled at him. "You shouldn't let people win, Spinelli. There's no thrill in that."

"I disagree. But the thrill really depends on what you have me do for two hours when you claim your prize." His tone was roguish. His smirk, cocky.

Virginia yanked in a breath. So, that was his plan. She toyed with the idea of taking him up on it. If nothing else, he'd be a great distraction from the last few days she'd been—

Pretty sure of himself, isn't he? I bet women just fall at his feet when he throws out those offers. I'll be damned if I will.

And there it was, as expected, her good conscience coming in to save the day.

She silently cursed its existence.

"Tell you what, Spinelli . . ." She leaned into her car, opening the middle console to retrieve what she wanted, fully aware that her ass was sticking up in the air.

He made no attempt to hide his scrutiny, the smirk persistent and irritating.

Shaking her head, she crossed the short distance between the cars and stopped in front of him, holding out her hand. "Come to this address tomorrow morning around nine, and I'll claim my prize. Oh, and be sure to wear clothes that you don't mind getting dirt or paint on."

Ah, yes, payback was a bitch.

Curiosity replaced cockiness as he pulled the business card from her fingers.

You're surprised. Good. Egotistical jerk, she gloated.

"Jack's," he read aloud, all teasing gone from his tone. His eyes came back to hers, filled with admiration. "I'll be there."

The sudden elation she felt left her feeling confused. Had she pulled one over on him or vice versa? She turned away from his steady gaze and managed to walk back to her car without grinning. Giving him one last look, she added, "Don't be late."

In her rearview she watched as he pushed off from his leaning position and settled himself back inside the Ferrari. There was a red blur as his car turned on a dime and accelerated, racing up behind her, making her aware of exactly how much he could have won by, if he'd wanted to.

"Make that egotistical and obnoxious," she muttered. Yet she couldn't squelch the delight still surging every time those three little words repeated in her head: I'll be there.

END OF CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

I've been a Mustang lover since I was a little girl, which is why Jack's car keeps showing up in the story. However, as much as it pains me to admit, I have to be realistic. A Ferrari would beat a Ford :(

A special thanks to @proudweirdmixer @Smashleyashley579 and @BeckyQueen7 for adding me to their reading lists over the past couple of days. Much appreciated! Please consider voting if you liked the race!