Page 12 of Drive Me Crazy
“I like her, Lucas likes her, Josie likes her, Sam likes her,” Theo answers. “You’re the only one who seems to have an issue with her, mate. She poked some fun at you on a podcast—who cares? You’re a big boy.”
“If I agree to spend an hour or two with her, will you stop talking about it?”
I don’t mention Ella’s little wager. She wins either way because it’ll force us to spend time together, but if she’s going to spend the season asking me things, I won’t say no to a chance to return the favor. No one likes being asked questions that can trigger painful memories or scratch at secrets that are best kept locked away.
“Yes, but I’m going to fact-check you and ask Ella so you can’t lie your way out.”
He sounds like Keith and Marion. Both have been texting me nonstop, asking how things are going. Spending time with Ella will probably be more pleasant than having to tell my team that I’ve been making her job near impossible.
“Fine.” I roll my eyes. “Now drop it.”
He answers me with a thumbs-up. I slip my earbuds back into my ears to indicate I’m done with the conversation. He takes the hint and heads back to his own suite, most likely to play video games.
Curiosity finally beats out bitterness and I’ve been listening toCoffee with Champions. I started from episode one last week and am already on episode twenty-one. It’s a damn good podcast. Even I can admit that. It’s equally educational and entertaining. Ella interviews everyone from the coach of the Giants, to an ESPN correspondent, to the agent of three very prominent football players. The podcast series abruptly ends with no reason as to why. Ella’s a great writer, but she fucking shines as a host. So, my question is … what the fuck happened?
SWEET, sweet victory. There’s nothing better than a champagne spray from P1. I check my phone during the press conference after the Australian Grand Prix, catching up on texts and emails, when a new message pops up. I didn’t give Ella my number, but clearly someone did.
FROM: ELLA GOLD
Congrats on the win! I should be the one asking you the questions, but a deal’s a deal. Breakfast at 10 a.m. tomorrow?
I spy her sitting in the second row, writing something on her iPad with her stylus. She’s wearing an oversized McAllister shirt and ripped jeans with “gym shoes.” I quickly text her back.
BLAKE HOLLIS
That works. Just so you know, it’s not very professional to be coloring on your iPad during a press conference.
ELLA GOLD
I’m actually doing a puzzle, but coloring isn’t a bad idea. Want me to draw you a picture? I’m great at stick figures.
A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth before I can stop it. Ella was everywhere this weekend. Talking to the engineers about the DRS. Asking the pit crew questions about the tires we were using for the race. Hanging out with the staff in the motorhome. There’s no avoiding her and her fucking infectious laugh.
Lucas nudges me in the arm, telling me I was just asked a question.Oh fuck. I wasn’t listening to a single word.
“Ididn’t quite catch that.” I apologize with a head nod. “Could you repeat that, please?”
I’M surprised to find Ella already at breakfast when I arrive. Thanks to Theo’s never-ending Instagram story, I know she went to a bar to celebrate with the team. Going out with Theo takes about a year off anyone’s life, so I’m surprised she’s alive and well. I’d been banking on a hungover and unpleasant Ella.
She greets me with a small wave. “Morning!”
Her hair is tied back into a messy ponytail and the glasses she has on can only be described as grandmum inspired. She’s in biker shorts and a Queen shirt. I wonder if she researched what kind of music I like and wore that shirt to win brownie points being that I’m a huge Freddie Mercury fan.
I slide into the seat across from her and a waiter fills the empty cup in front of me with fresh coffee. It’s a good thing I like my coffee black because Ella is pouring the entire carafe of milk into her own cup. No wonder why it tasted so horrible when I drank it a few weeks ago.
“Saw you went out with Theo last night. I definitely thought you’d be late.”
“Nope. I’m a professional and I’m always on time.” Her mouth twists into a knowing smile. “Plus, this is the first time you’ve willingly been in a room with me, so I wouldn’t dream of being tardy.”
I ignore the comment and take a folded sheet of paper out of my pocket. Before going to bed last night, I took some time putting together a list of questions for Ella. Some easy, some uncomfortable, some to push her buttons.
She whistles in appreciation. “I’m thoroughly impressed, Blake.”
I ignore the compliment and get right down to business. “First question. Why’d you take a job working for me?”
Anarched eyebrow flicks up in amusement. “Technically, I work for George. My job just happens to be you.”
Touché, Ella. Touché.
