Page 68 of Downforce

“Or I saved you.”

My eyebrows almost touch my forehead. “What did you say?”

“You were flailing a little.” He shrugs. “Not your fault. Not many people knew about Waltz & Collins’ deal with Skyland last year. They wanted to announce it at the end of the season and we both know what happened there,” he explains casually.

“How did you know?”

“Skyland was bragging about it last season after Miami’s Grand Prix. We’d gone out to a night club⁠—”

“Of course,” I grumble.

“And he was bragging about this new lifestyle brand his agent brought to him. He mentioned how they agreed to a seven-figure deal and had paid fifty percent upfront.”

That makes my eyes bulge. “That’s insane. No wonder Randy was hesitant.”

I’m intrigued but also pissed that I didn’t have this information beforehand. I should’ve dug deeper and asked more questions. I wonder if Norm even knew, but I doubt it. I think he would’ve shared that information with me if he’d known.

I know for a fact Travis wasn’t aware. Now, I’m not sure if he would want to work with a company that signed Skyland last year. And this time around they’re interested in signing both him and Max, which is going to take a lot of convincing for Travis.

“I think they’re coming out on top this time around,” Max says, sounding genuine.

I cock my head to the side.

“Instead of one Amato driver who turned out to be complete rubbish, they’ll get two this time around. One of whom is going to be the champion this year.”

I cock an eyebrow. “Obviously, they realize Travis is on track to repeat,” I reply, knowing he wasn’t referring to my brother. “But what do you get out of it?”

“I thought you would’ve already figured that out by now, princess.”

Warmth washes over me, and I hate the way my eyelids instantly lower. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him not to call me that, but I can’t push the demand through my lips.

“Right,” I say. “You get to force yourself into a deal that was Travis’ to take, getting in the way.”

He chuckles and steps closer.

“You’ve almost got me figured out.”

“You’re not that complicated.”

It’s his turn to cock his head to the side. “Have you figured out that you owe me?”

My eyes bulge. “Owe you?”

He nods sharply. “I saved you from waffling and coming across as unknowledgeable. Which means you owe me.”

“I don’t owe you shi⁠—”

“I’ll take my payment in the form of dinner,” he says over my outrage.

“Take your dinner and shove it up⁠—”

“My room number is four-oh-five. I prefer the lower floors,” he continues. “Is there anything you don’t eat?”

“I …” Words fail me for two seconds. “I’m not coming to your hotel room.”

He frowns. “I can assure you it’s clean and large enough to accommodate our date.”

“We don’t have a date,” I whisper-hiss so that he gets the point.