Faster Dirtier (Take Me...#5) (A Team Ferrelli Novel) (19 page)

Chapter Twenty

A shower of champagne rains down from above as I feel myself
hoisted up out of the green car. A dozen hands bear me out of the vehicle as I
raise my fists in the air. The crowd surging all around me seems absolutely
endless. It is, by far, the most epic, surreal moment of my life.

Two dark, gleaming eyes appear before me, and I throw my
arms jubilantly around Enzo’s shoulders. He picks me up in his strong arms,
laughing as he twirls me around. As I spin, I see the faces of the rest of my
team, my family, grinning ear-to-ear.

The race was over in the blink of an eye, or so it felt.
Never before have I experienced a rush like that. There’s no way I could ever
live without it now, knowing how incredible it is. And I have the feeling I
won’t have to.

I didn’t come in first place. Honestly, it was a miracle
that I managed to break the top ten. As a first-time driver, expecting to place
would have been insane. But that was never the point, was it? I proved today
that I can keep up with the boys and give them a run for their money. That should
be more than enough to convince Team Ferrelli to take a chance on me again.
After a real season of training, just imagine what I’ll be able to do with set
of wheels like that.

“You were incredible!” Enzo roars, setting me down on my own
two feet.

“That. Was. Great!” I scream, bouncing on the balls of my
feet. “I wanna go again!”

Enzo throws back his head in laughter. “One race at a time
there, kid.”

“Enzo,” I breathe, catching his face in my hands. “Thank
you. Thank you for letting me drive today. For standing up for me.
For...everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he says, kissing my hands.
“You’ve given me more than I can ever repay you for. You’ve made me want to be
a part of the world again, part of a team. Part of a family. You’ve shown me that
I can care about someone more than myself. And ask anyone—that’s no small
feat.”

“Let’s just call it even then,” I smile, running my hands
through his hair. “We’re teammates now, partners. What do you say to that?”

“This is what I say,” he grins, and plants his lips on mine.
My whole body thrills as Enzo kisses me in front of the cheering crowd,
droplets of sparkling wine clinging to my hair.

“OK you two,” I hear Siena cut in, prying us apart. “Save it
for the after party, huh? I have a feeling the world is going to have a few
questions about what went down here today. Think you’re up for a little press
conference?”

I sit on the raised platform between Enzo and Siena, looking
out into the sea of media types. Being in front of the press isn’t nearly as
terrible when they’re not bombarding you in an airport, it turns out. Between
just having run a great first F1 race, the smash success of my badass viral
video, and having Siena here to work her PR magic, this round of interviews is
actually kind of fun.

“So what comes next for you, Ace?” asks a female reporter in
the front row.

“Well, I wouldn’t mind a beer, to tell you the truth,” I
reply to a volley of laughter. “But seriously, you’ll have to ask the people
running Team Ferrelli.”

“How about it, gentlemen?” the reporter presses, turning to
where the Ferrelli brothers are sitting down the table from me. “Does Ainsley
Vaughn’s future with Ferrelli look bright?”

“Blindingly so,” Bruno smiles, leaning into his microphone
and giving me a wink.

I grin back at him, relieved but unsurprised. The public had
no idea just how close I was to losing my hard-earned spot on this team. But
now that Carlo and Bruno have seen what I can do, even in the midst of a media
shit show, my place on their team might as well be gold-plated.

“That was quite a surprise, having Ace drive today instead
of Enzo,” remarks another male reporter.

“Yeah, well,” Siena laughs, shooting Enzo a pointed glance.
“We’ve got to keep everyone on their toes, don’t we?”

Looks like we’re going to keep Enzo’s scheme under wraps,
too. I guess a lot more goes on behind the scenes around here than the general
public might guess. But you know what? I think I prefer it that way. Especially
given mine and Enzo’s extracurricular activities. Good lord, I can’t wait to
get him alone and use up some of this post-race energy. I bump my knee against
his under the table, hoping to relate that very sentiment. Judging from the
look he gives me, I’m pretty sure the message goes through loud and clear.

“And what about you, Enzo?” asks the first reporter.

“What
about
me?”  He asks, dragging his mind out of whatever dirty plans he’s concocting
for us over there.

“Your presence on the team has been a little spotty lately,
everyone knows that,” the reporter goes on. “Do you have any explanation, or
any plans of changing your ways before the season begins?”

I brace myself, waiting for Enzo to snap at the reporter.
But to my surprise, he offers a serene smile instead.

“It’s true, I have been taking my fair share of trips abroad
lately,” Enzo allows. “Disappearing without a trace and whatnot, not telling
anyone about my whereabouts...I’m sure it all seems very mysterious. Very scandalous.”

I feel my breath become shallow as he goes on. Even I don’t
know where he’s been sneaking off to this past month or so. I suddenly remember
that text I spotted on his phone, and all my doubts come racing back. Is he
about to reveal something I’d rather not hear?

“But at the risk of losing my cool factor,” Enzo goes on, “I
think it’s time I let you all in on why I’ve actually been gone so much of the
time, lately. I know the buzz is that I’m not as dedicated to my team since my
father died, that I’m losing my focus. But in reality, my focus has just become
broader. Less self-involved. Before I continue, I’d like to bring a couple of
my friends onto the stage with me to help explain.”

A rapturous gasp goes up around the room as two new figures
appear onstage alongside Team Ferrelli. I turn to see who’s joined us, and feel
my jaw drop open. The two men approaching the table are anything but strangers.
In fact, they’re almost as familiar to me as Enzo was before we properly met.
It’s Alexi Rostov and Sven Landers—Enzo’s close friends who were badly injured
while racing a couple of seasons ago. Rostov, the former Russian driver, lost
one hand in the terrible crash and now wears a prosthetic. Landers, the Swedish
driver and older brother to the treasonous Nils, is in a motorized wheelchair.
But despite their lasting injuries, both men look to be in good spirits today.

“You already know these men, of course,” Enzo goes on, as
the rest of our team makes room for them at the table. “Alexi Rostov and Sven
Landers, former drivers and longtime friends of mine. And now, they’re my
partners as well. Together, the three of us have been working to assemble a new
charitable foundation. We’re hoping to raise money and awareness for the
victims of automobile accidents and their families. This will include those
affected by motor sports accidents, of course, but we’re also hoping to branch
out and help those affected by mechanical failure, hit-and-runs, and even drunk
driving.”

His eyes swing my way at this last, and he smiles as he sees
my amazed expression. We’ve never discussed my parents’ death at length, apart
from the basic fact of it. I didn’t think it was possible for Enzo to be even
more perfect in my eyes, but lo and behold. Not only is he talented, gorgeous,
loyal, and an amazing lover, he’s also compassionate and increasingly selfless.
Now
that’s
what I call
a dream man.

“Starting this foundation was Enzo’s idea,” Sven Landers
says into his microphone. “And given my recent injuries, and the fact that
being retired leaves me with a lot of time on my hands, I agreed to come
onboard. The three of us have been meeting at my home in Sweden, since I have
the most trouble getting around these days.”

“So that’s where you’ve been jetting off to,” Siena smiles
at her brother.

“Yep,” Enzo confirms, catching my eye once more.

I have to stifle a gleeful giggle as I realize that those
texts I found after Enzo’s trip were from Sven Landers, not some mystery woman!
This just keeps getting better.

“We’re all very excited about this new endeavor,” Alexi
Rostov puts in, “And we look forward to spreading our message about vehicular
safety through advocacy and action. And who better to be leading that charge
than our very own Enzo Lazio?”

The press room bursts into applause for the three charitable
drivers. My heart swells with pride as Enzo smiles out across the crowd. I’ve
always been thrilled to be a part of his life, but now I’m prouder than ever to
be his teammate and partner.

“That’s all for now, folks!” Siena says, calling the press
conference to a close.

We file off the platform, heading to our backstage area. The
second we’re out of sight, I grab onto Enzo’s hand and tug him away from the
group.

“You weren’t kidding about being full of surprises, were
you?” I grin.

“Hope you don’t mind that I kept the foundation a secret
from you,” Enzo replies, wrapping his arms around my waist. “I didn’t want you
to think I was just trying to impress you, going on and on about my charity
work. I wanted to wait until I knew for sure that it was going to take off.”

“Well, I
am
impressed,” I tell him, “But mostly, I’m just so happy to know you, Enzo. To be
with you.”

“Right back at you kid,” he murmurs, “This is going to be
one hell of a year.”

“Aren’t you going to introduce us to this lovely woman?”
Sven Landers asks, wheeling himself toward us with Rostov in tow.

“Of course,” Enzo says, “Ace, this is Alexi Rostov and Sven
Landers, my racing buddies of old, and new business partners. Guys this is Ace,
my...” he pauses, at a loss for what else to call me. We’ve never had the whole
“title” conversation. “My teammate?” he suggests, glancing my way to see if I
approve. And you know something? I
really
do.

“It’s an honor to meet you both,” I tell Rostov and Landers.

“Excellent work today,” Rostov says shaking my hand.

“A truly wonderful debut!” Landers agrees, offering his hand
to shake as well. He certainly seems like an improvement on his little brother.
As if reading my mind, he adds, “I hope you won’t hold my rascal of a sibling
against me, Ace. He’s always been something of a brat. Enzo let me know during
our last meeting that Nils—or one of his idiot friends, whatever—was
responsible for leaking the first photograph of you two. My brother had no
idea, of course, that I was working with Enzo on this. He tried to spin some
story about doing it for the team, but I know he was just jealous. If it makes
you feel any better, we’re going to have him doing some serious community
service for the foundation to repent for what he’s done.”

“Oh, don’t bother on my account,” I laugh. “Honestly, it was
hard being thrust into the public eye like that. But the sooner I get over what
gossip mills think of me the better, right? Maybe I should thank Nils for
pushing me into the deep end.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Enzo grumbles.

“Can’t wait to see what you bring to this sport, Ace,”
Rostov tells me. “I think we’ve all been waiting for someone like you to show
up for a while.”

“That’s for sure,” Landers nods, “F1 is lucky to have you,
Ainsley.”

“Shucks guys,” I joke, shaking my head.

“Watch out,” Enzo warns them, “She blushes real easy, this
one.”

“What’s that?” I hear Alec’s voice ring out. My big brother
walks up to us with the Lazio-Davies clan following in his wake.

“Nothing,” I say quickly. “Nothing at all.”

“I don’t know about the rest of you,” Siena says, “But I
think we should blow this pop stand in a hurry. I think I’ve had just about
enough excitement for one day.”