‘And I don’t drink.’
‘At all?’
‘Nope.’ She shook her head.
‘Ever?’
‘Never.’ She smiled at his curiosity. ‘Well, I tried it and didn’t like it.’
‘Okay, water for two it is.’
‘You can.’
‘I know that I can,’ Matteo said, ‘but I’m keeping my wits about me with you.’
He looked at the menu and groaned. ‘Truffle-crusted scallops—I know what I’m having.’
His groan made her stomach tighten; the low sound of his want caused her breath to hold in her throat, and then he looked up.
His eyes were the darkest navy and when he smiled so, too, did she.
‘That’s better,’ Matteo said.
He was nice, her heart said.
Just that.
The food was amazing and the company too, and he really did take her concerns seriously.
‘I had a sponsor last year, not a particularly generous one,’ Abby explained. ‘He rang all the time, wanted constant progress reports. Race day was hell. He wanted me to join him and his cronies for a champagne brunch and Pedro to be sociable...’
‘Look, I get you don’t want someone sticking their nose in and I can manage lunch by myself. And, for what it’s worth, I won’t be putting pressure on you or your team. I wouldn’t expect much this year...’
‘Oh, no,’ Abby interrupted. ‘We’re winning the Henley Cup this year.’
‘I’m just saying that I’m patient.’
‘Pedro will be off soon,’ Abby said. ‘He’s a rising star and someone will make an offer that I can’t match any day soon.’
‘Probably.’ Matteo nodded. He’d thought the same but now he could really see the problem. ‘Hunter’s retiring at the end of this year and I guess the Lachance team...’ He paused, remembering that Abby had briefly dated him. ‘Hey, didn’t you two...?’
‘We’re winning this year,’ Abby said, not answering the question. ‘I want the Henley Cup—Dubai first, then Italy, then Monte Carlo.’
‘Then you need to keep your driver happy,’ Matteo said. ‘How tight is it?’ he asked.
No one knew just how bad it was and Abby was extremely reluctant to tell him.
Matteo watched as she fiddled with her glass. ‘The only thing I want in a relationship is honesty,’ he said and then he started to laugh. ‘I only get to use that line in business.’
Even Abby laughed.
‘So, how about we be honest with each other? Whatever you tell me goes no further than here, whatever we then decide.’
She believed him. And, Abby thought, maybe it would be a relief to tell someone the truth.
No one knew just how bad it was.
Her team all thought she was particularly tense; they didn’t know that she was waking up in dread every night. Abby was even considering agreeing to her father’s ridiculous bribe to go along to his fundraiser just for the injection of cash he had promised if she did.
The very thought of that made her sick.
She wondered if the photograph of her and Hunter still hung on her father’s study wall.
Abby closed her eyes for a second, as panic briefly hit.
No, she would not be going cap in hand to her father.
She opened her eyes to Matteo’s waiting ones and decided to tell him the truth.
‘I can’t get us to Italy.’
Matteo said nothing.
‘I’ve got the car and equipment covered but I can’t get the team there.’
‘The money’s run out?’
Abby nodded.
He didn’t get up and walk off and he didn’t berate.
He just sat there.
Thinking.
Then he gave in on water and called for a large cognac.
And still he sat there thinking.
Not about the necklace that he was supposed to be here for; instead he was thinking about cars and a team and it gave him a buzz that had been missing at the casino of late. He didn’t like motor racing. Fast cars were the only vice he didn’t have. There were too many painful memories attached.
Yet, he was starting to come around.
Watching Abby and later Pedro putting the car through its paces, speaking with the mechanics, gauging the opposition...
There was an attraction to the sport that Matteo had never anticipated when he had taken the challenge on.
He asked for figures and she went red in the neck but told him, and she watched as he crunched a few numbers on a calculator.
Not his phone, she noted.
And it wasn’t a two-dollar calculator either.
He had beautiful hands, Abby thought, and she liked the way his tongue popped out as he concentrated.
Matteo knew he should conclude this meeting now. The type of money that was required here outweighed the necklace and there was practically a guarantee of zero return.
‘Why do you think you’re a chance?’ he asked.
‘I built the car,’ Abby said. ‘I have the most fearless driver I’ve ever seen. Pedro’s a bit raw but that’s good. He’s unpredictable. No one except for me—actually, not even me—knows what he’s capable of...’
Still Matteo looked.
‘But he needs the right tool and my car is that.’
Still he looked. His face gave away nothing, Abby thought, but he had demanded honesty and if that was the case there was something rather large that she was leaving out.
‘And I’ve been waiting nine years for this.’
She didn’t tell him why; she just told him that she had.
He saw something then and its name was determination.
No, the numbers might not add up but the feeling in his gut tipped
