“Yes.” I lie back, staring at the ceiling. I can feel tears pooling in my eyes, so I suck in a breath, keeping them at bay.
“Jesus…Andi. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me? I can’t imagine what you’ve been going through being here, especially with today being race day, and having to deal with all the Carrick and Sienna crap.”
“I just didn’t want people to know and think that Uncle John gave me the job because of who my dad is, so I kept it to myself.”
“Hmm…I guess I can understand that.”
I look across at her again. “Petra, here, only my Uncle John knows that William is my dad, and I want it to stay that way.”
“You can trust me. Anything you tell me stays here.” Pressing her lips together, she does the lock-and-throw-away-the-key action over her mouth
“I appreciate it.” I smile softly at her.
“Gotta say, you make a whole lot more sense to me now—with the whole not-dating-drivers thing.”
I let out a sigh. “When you see your dad die on the track and then watch your mother go through the pain of losing him…” I turn my head and look at her. “I don’t want that for myself.”
“But you do like Carrick…right?”
“Sure, I like him. But nothing can ever come of it.”
“I understand, considering what happened with your dad…but Carrick isn’t your dad, Andi.”
My eyes meet hers. “But he is. Besides the whoring around—well, my dad was a bit of a one before he met my mum—Carrick is everything he was. And that’s what everyone says about Carrick. He’s the next Wolfe. Everything about Carrick—from the early rise to Formula One to his recklessness and easy attitude to the way he drives…there’s a hell of a lot about Carrick that’s similar to my dad.”
“But it doesn’t mean that he’s destined for the same fate.”
I cringe at her choice of words.
“Jesus…sorry. That didn’t come out right.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m usually fine with this stuff. I mean, it’s been fourteen years. But today is just a weird day for me, is all. I’m more sensitive than usual.”
There’s a slight silence.
Then, she says, “Carrick will be fine today. You know that, right?”
I close my eyes, blowing out a breath. “Yeah.”
“Look, just playing devil’s advocate here, but it clearly worries you when Carrick races, and you like the guy, so whether you’re with him or not, you’re still going to worry, right?”
I open my eyes and look at her. “Yeah, but there’s a difference between worrying over a friend than over a boyfriend—or worse, someone you love.”
She stares at me for a long moment. I can see her wheels turning behind her eyes.
Lying on her back, she puts her hands behind her head. “Do you think the pop princess will be at the track today?”
“It’s race day, so I would expect her to be there.”
Sienna hasn’t been at the track at all since she arrived in Monaco, which has been perfect for me because I’ve been able to hide there.
“She’s such a bitch,” Petra mutters.
A smile touches my lips, and I turn on my side to face her. “You know you don’t have to dislike her just because I do.”
She frowns, clearly displeased by what I said. “I dislike her because she was a bitch to you—and she makes crappy music.”
I laugh at the expression on her face. “Well, I appreciate your support.”
I fall onto my back. Lifting my hands to my face, I look at them. They’re all rough and dry. I screw my face up.
I bet Sienna’s hands are beautiful and soft.
Ugh. I really need to stop comparing myself to her.
Letting my thoughts escape me though, I say, “I wonder why he’s with her. I mean, I get that Sienna’s beautiful, but she’s so bloody mean.”
Petra lets out a laugh. “He’s not with her, Andi. He’s just shagging her. Sorry.” She grimaces at my anguished face. “But come on, you must see it.”
“See what?”
She sits up in bed, wrapping her arms around her knees, and I turn back onto my side, propping myself up on my elbow.
“Aside from the longing looks Carrick gives you when he thinks no one is looking, have you actually taken a good look at Sienna?”
“He doesn’t give me longing looks.” I stick my tongue out at her. “And unfortunately, yes, I have seen her.”
“And you don’t see it?”
“See what?” I’m getting frustrated now.
“How alike you both look.”
“I do not look like her! God! Thanks a lot!” I huff.
Sure, Sienna is beautiful, but she’s so ugly on the inside that it mars her exterior and in no way do I resemble someone like her.
Petra lets out a sound of frustration, shaking her head. “I don’t mean that you’re like the mega bitch. I just mean that you look incredibly similar.”
“Come on, Petra. I’m not exactly standout-looking. I have brown hair, brown eyes, and olive skin.”
She rolls her eyes. “Sure, you’re not standout-looking with your mile long legs, supermodel body, and stunning face. Granted, I hate that bitch Sienna, but she is beautiful, like you. She has exactly the same attributes as you.”
“As do a million other girls.”