Off the Track Series Book 2
Elsa has been alone nearly all her life. Thrown into a career she didn't choose out of sheer need. But now, for the first time in nearly a decade life has given her the chance to take up her dreams and join the Ferrari te...
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This week has felt like the slowest of my life.
The hardest part of a bad breakup is definitely having to see him at work all the time. Not just in passing, because he's constantly plastered on the big screens and completely unavoidable. To make matters worse, the fucking press has even tried to ask me about him
Like that's going to happen.
Neither of us have spoken about it publicly, but assumptions have been made.
Hell, neither of us have even spoken to each other. And not for my lack of trying! I called him an embarrassing number of times but each time to no avail. A girl can only leave so many apologetic voicemails before it becomes totally humiliating.
I can't eat, can't sleep and I feel like a walking shell of myself. But I just keep on putting one foot in front of the other. Going to work and plastering on a smile despite the storm inside. Forcing myself to eat and running at nights until I'm exhausted enough to sleep.
If I just keep going, I know I'll be okay.
Time heals all, right?
I fucking hope so.
My armor of a smile isn't enough to fool the ones who know me best though, evidenced by the fact that Amelia and Charles showed up at my room demanding I come out for fun tonight. Vegas was out last grand prix before we spend our week between races in Italy, and when I protested for needing rest aka not wanting to be in the same room as Daniel Amelia put her foot down.
And by god she can be stubborn as a mule.
So I find myself spending sunday evening smoking alone on the terrace, trying to give Daniel a wide berth. I saw him the second I walked in, watching as he tensed up from my mere presence. Worse than that he grabbed onto the blonde next to him like his life depended on it. He's not waiting around, and the fact it's a blonde strikes a cord with me. I was blonde when we first met so I guess he has a type. A type that's not me. Looking at them felt as if all the air was sucked out of the room.
Still, I did my rounds, chatting as if my heart isn't in absolute tatters. I have my childhood to thank for preparing me to fake it to you make it, thats for damn sure. But just because I'm seasoned doesn't make it easy so the second our group went down to the dance floor I made a break for it. Amelia can make me show, but she can't make me dance. The second the clock strikes one I'm getting the hell out of here.
It already feels like I'm hanging by a thread.
The door behind me swooshes and I hear that all too familiar aussie accent. Daniels out here.
It takes all my willpower not to turn around.
He's talking on the phone, his Dad by the sound of it. It must be what... the crack of dawn in Australia? Regardless he sounds cheery and bright as they discuss his achievements of the day.
