Page 15 of Austin

I hit the proverbial brakes.

Hard.

My words fail as my heart slams right into my chest.

Not only do I know this woman, but I also just convinced myself that she had already forgotten my face.

Unfortunately, from the way she’s staring at me right now, she knows exactly who I am.

4

JALYNN

There is no way I’m seeing this.

I blink a few times in utter disbelief.

How is the guy who forced me on a wild ride last night standing in front of me right now?

He looks the same yet so different. His dark, wavy hair is styled back, and instead of jeans and a hoodie, he’s wearing a navy-blue suit that was obviously tailored to mold his muscular shoulders and wrap around his tapered waist.

Last night, he smelled like motor oil and grease, but right now, the clean smell of aftershave and fine Italian threads is pouring off of him.

“Pyle,” he says.

I slightly fall back in confusion. At first, I think he’s telling me his name, but then I realize that’s what he’s calling me.

“Excuse me?” I blanch.

Bryce calls out from his desk, “Austin, leave”—he pauses for a brief moment—“her alone. I’d like to keep her longer than the end of the day.”

Austin.

The memory of last night plays in my brain. The oversized hooded sweatshirt. The need to conceal who he was.

He’s a Sexton, a part of this media empire I was just hired to work at. It shouldn’t surprise me—rich asshole with the world on a string, who lives on the wild side. He probably can’t find enough of a thrill in his silver-spoon lifestyle, so he has to race to live on the edge.

I shake my head a little and avoid his cobalt-blue eyes, which are boring right into me.

“I’m sorry for interrupting. I’ll be at my desk.” I spin on my heel and march out of the office. I should be insulted that Bryce doesn’t remember my name, but for right now, I’m glad he doesn’t. A moment to get my bearings will be helpful.

As soon as I’m back at my desk, my first thought is to pick up my phone and type a text to Eva, but before I do, a metaphorical angel appears on my shoulder, telling me to hold off.

He went through an awful lot of trouble to hide who he really is, she says. Usually, guys with money don’t care about consequences. They can buy themselves out of anything. That’s not the case with Austin.

Or shall I say, Falcon.

At the same moment, a little devil appears on the opposite shoulder. Last night’s race ended tragically. Falcon’s carelessness with these races puts innocent people in jeopardy.

The angel hits me in the head with her wand. People like Beckett, who willingly go there. And shall I remind you, Jalynn, that you begged him to take you last night, so you could see what these races were all about?

I stare at my phone and chew on my lip. The little angel wins. I hate that little angel sometimes.

I turn on my computer, familiarizing myself with Bryce’s schedule and going over the reading Human Resources asked me to complete by lunch. Of course, I can’t concentrate on a damn thing because I’m dying to know what is being said behind that door.

Does Bryce know his brother races? Is Austin telling my new boss that I was at the race?

Beckett was distraught when he showed up to breakfast this morning to give me my bag. Someone died last night, and they’re looking for anyone with intel on who coordinates the races. From what Beckett told me, the group is tight-knit, and the love of racing will keep anyone from opening up their mouth. Still, money talks …