Keep Me In | DR3 | BOOK 1

76 - Roots

"I could never be disappointed in you. I love you, Alexa. You've accomplished more than I could've ever imagined for you."

"That means a lot, Dad. More than I could ever say."

--

As bad as it sounds, focusing on myself ran a lot smoother when we were having an exceptional month at work.

Not in a disassociating way. And not to say I defined myself based solely on my monthly quota. On how many luxury automobiles I could divest myself from. Like I was some work-crazed, unbalanced, nuts in the head car sales-person.

That may be what it looked like from the outside. I liked to call it a productive outlet.

It was extremely hard to resist texting, or calling, Daniel in those first few days after Monaco. I kept repeating his words in my head, the offer he put up. I knew if I called, or texted, or showed up at his door and demanded to be let in at 2 in the morning; it would put that same happy smile on his face that I saw when we were out on the dance floor.

Stretched from ear to ear. From nose to chin. That brilliant smile, only made better by the boom of his laughter, sure to light up any darkened room.

And, after telling Dad. Seeing that he simply wished not to hear of it, and he was okay. Hear no evil, kind of thing. I'm sure he would have reacted differently, maybe given it more effort, if I were to accidentally tell him Daniel and I were together, you know, when we were.

The rest of May rounded out to be a really great month, and by the end of it, we had our books practically filled with appointments for June. Rory would have his work cut out for him, trying to keep inventory stocked, to the point where I assigned Noah to helping Rory. Just until we slowed down.

I chalked it up to the driving season being exceptional this year. Noah countered by pointing out it must have something to do with my F1 Live appearance in Monaco, or all the October MotorCars branding on all of the press released for Goodwood coming up in just three weeks now.

Which, was partially my intention. To get the company's name out there. I just didn't think it would work this well.

I hardly even had time to see my family, or Joce and Julia. Between work, training with James and the Porsche team in the car, I barely had a minute to myself where I wasn't scheduled to meet someone, or on a call, or God forbid- sleeping.

The days shape-shifted into nights, Melatonin was taken in the evenings to ensure a restful sleep, mated with a triple-shot espresso first thing in the morning to tell my brain it was go-time. From the café around the corner, of course.

The one Daniel and I always went to first thing after a Thursday run, back when we did that.

Not because I maybe wanted a chance to happen upon him. A coincidence. Letting life take the reigns. I assumed he still went here, too. They made a great cup of coffee, after all.

Well, maybe that was partially it. I also had no coffee beans to fill my baron espresso machine, and no time to buy them.

So when I did have a free moment to let my mind wander, to thoughts of Daniel and some song he would love, or a story about something stupid Noah said- it was easy instead to put the phone down. Or swap the screen to my email, bursting with inquiries and appointment requests. To call Dad instead of wallowing, ask him about whatever race I has skipped out on, like Azerbaijan.