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After being dumped, Isla Morris makes a pact with her ex's biggest competition, F1 driver Matthew Carr, to get inside Lucas's head.
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Isla Morris is dating the world's best F1 racer - at least, she w...
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The breadsticks were the giveaway.
Isla eyed them surreptitiously. There was nothing all that exciting about them — crispy, thin, soaked in garlic salt — but Lucas never ordered breadsticks. At least, not while he was competing. And yet here they were, at the table: the perfect size to fit a ring around. And Lucas had always joked that he'd propose to her with breadsticks.
"I know you, Isla Morris," Lucas had said, shaking his head. "You'll never be able to turn away a ring if there's a breadstick attached to it."
Which, you know.
True.
Isla shifted in her seat. Lucas was scanning the menu, toying absently with his emerald cufflinks. A four-year anniversary gift from her last month. She'd spent hours in the shop with her flatmate Tiff, agonizing over the perfect pair.
"Are you nervous?" Isla asked.
His head shot up. "Hmm?"
Isla hid a smile. "For tomorrow." Oh, Lucas. "The race."
"Oh." Lucas's expression cleared. "No. I'll win, so long as the car cooperates."
He said it like a fact. And it probably was, Isla thought; at twenty-one, Lucas had become the youngest winner of the Formula One Drivers' Championship last year. He'd catapulted Ferrari to the top of the grid. The only person that came close to challenging Lucas was his teammate, Matthew Carr.
Isla's mouth twisted.
Nope.
She wasn't thinking about Matthew; not on a night like tonight. It was a Matthew-free zone. Isla eyed the breadsticks, her pulse picking up. Would Lucas get down on one knee? Would there be a speech?
She hoped not.
She'd probably cry. No, she'd definitely cry. And she wasn't wearing waterproof mascara; the pictures would be ruined.
Isla fanned her face with the menu. "I was thinking we could go to the beach after the race tomorrow. Just you and I."
"The beach?"
"Before the dinner," Isla said. "With your team."
Well, "dinner" was a relative term, Isla thought wryly; Ferrari was throwing a wild party to celebrate the beginning of the season, hosted at some shi-shi venue in downtown Melbourne. It was the very last thing Isla wanted to do. She only had 48 hours with Lucas, and she didn't want to waste a second of it.
Truthfully, Isla hadn't wanted to come to Australia in the first place — she was busy with uni work in London — but Lucas had insisted. And now, looking at the breadsticks, she understood why.
Act surprised, Isla told herself firmly. And for the love of god, don't cry.
"Right," Lucas said. The thing is..." He set down his menu. "There's something I want to discuss with you, Isla. Something serious."
