Miss High Maintenance

Amelia

The fabric of life made no sense to me if I couldn’t take risks.

Maybe that was what propelled me to call the one man I should have avoided like the plague.

Back when I was a child, my mother used to shelter me in our annual visits to our countryside mansion.

It was a massive spread of concrete and towering architecture overlooking pine forests as far as the eyes could go.

When I was old enough, I asked her why she never let me roam those forests on my own. Mother understood that I was a wildling.

Of all my family, she was the one who encouraged me to hold fast to my roots.

So, it hurt when I couldn’t explore the forests, forage berries, or find a tree to while the afternoon away.

That’s when she told me about men who roamed jungles in the civilized world, wearing smiles for masks and sweet words for wolfskin.

Darius was one such man.

Common sense mandated that I should stay away from someone so frivolous with his looks and money. He had little to lose.

I would too, if my entire world lacked substance barring fast cars and loose women. But, on occasion, it was fun to hang out with someone like him.

He knew how to have a good time. And, he was my ticket to racing.

My love for cars began back in Harvard, when I’d spend most of the bucks I earned teaching part-time on the racetrack.

There was something thrilling about it—the adrenaline, the rush of vehicles, the sheer speed of their engines thrumming in tandem with the motions of my heart.

I’d never had the opportunity to experience life from the driver’s seat before Darius. So, this morning, when he called me to The Glen—our very own racetrack, I knew I’d scored a winner.

He stood in front of me now, all slick, his hair unctuous with a gel that was likely there to boost his non-existent manhood.

“Darius, aren’t you a darling for letting me come? I’ve been dying to try out one of these cars for so long!”

It helped that he controlled most of the racetracks around this part of town, and the management of the Glen was purely putty in his hands.

The thing that cinched the deal for me, though, was his olive green Lamborghini Sian.

I’d never seen something so beautiful, barring Teddy—but you couldn’t compare engineered beauty to nature’s perfections.

The Sian was as close as it got, though. I could only ever find one word for it—sleek.

“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Darius sounded like a proud papa. Given it would likely be his only child, I’d say he was just being real.

“She’s the top of the class. She’s got a V12 engine and hybrid technology, all of the supercapacitors.”

“Sian,” I murmured. “Do you know what the name means?”

“Huh?”

“I—it’s derived from Bolognese, a dialect of Emilian.” I ran a long finger across the luminous electrochromic roof. “It means lightning.”

“Hell yeah, it does! D’you know this baby can go over two-twenty?”

Not for the first time, I wished he would just leave and I could spend some time alone with this marvel. But, before I could become the master, I needed a lesson.

“Darius.” I turned my blue eyes to him, an innocent smile on the corners of my lips. “I was wondering, could you show me how to drive this beast?”

I batted my eyelashes, turning up the full force on everything I knew about flirting. Grazing his shoulder with my left hand ever so lightly, I leaned forward.

“I can’t imagine learning from anyone but the best!”

“Ha! You’re in safe hands, sweet pea.” He laughed and opened the door, and before he could say anything else, I sank into the exquisite driver’s seat.

It was soft, adrenaline-tempered cushioning, propelling me closer to accelerating the beast. Darius climbed in beside me, his face worried. “Sweet pea, don’t you think you should relax while I—”

I’d had enough. I turned all my focus on the ignition.

The engine roared into life, and then, the beast took control of the empty racetrack. Its distinctive sound commanded precedence over every other car around it.

“Oh my God, Amelia, slow down,” Darius screamed like a pussy, but I had no mind for him. I was in ownership of a rare, deranged, dramatic beast, the first of a new breed of raging animals, built to command.

This was my track, and the Sian was my chariot.

You had to respect the heart of a car like this one.

Darius was silent at the end of the ride. He looked like someone had slapped him and told him he’d need to eat prunes for dinner. “I didn’t know you could drive.”

He sounded petulant.

“Oh.” I waved him off airily. “Just something I learned before going abroad to study. Can we do this again?”

He undid the restraints and stepped out of Sian, his face dubious. I followed suit but was immediately attacked by a tirade of shutters, clicking at a merciless pace.

Well, that would make some unsavory news tomorrow. My brother would not be happy.

I had other things on mind.

“Darius?”

“How about I take you out to dinner tonight?”

Dinner with Darius was the last thing I wanted to do. He’d try to make the moves, get all slobbery when I refused to give traction to his advances, and cause a whole scene.

If it weren’t for the car, I’d say no in an instant.

“How about I get back to you? I think I’m free, but I just want to make sure.” I smiled sweetly.

“Are you sure you’re not usin’ me for my car?” He frowned at me like a child trying to make sense of a seemingly complicated puzzle.

Damn right I am, you fucking idiot.

“Oh my goodness, whatever in the world would make you think that?” I rolled my eyes and pulled him into a hug. He took on immediately, wrapping his thick arms around my waist.

He smelled of overpowering cologne and sweat. I hated it. I pushed him away after a second, not oblivious to the speed at which the cameramen were working.

“I’d really love to spend time with you, okay? It has nothing to do with the car.”

“Great.” He beamed. “Can I drop you home?”

From the corner of my eye, I could see a slim, disapproving figure motioning to me. I’d told Veronica I’d meet her for lunch.

She never missed appointments. And she looked like she’d ground me if she could.

“No, no.” I waved a hand at him. “My sister-in-law is here, so I’ve got to leave. But I’ll see you soon!”

Veronica didn’t bother with a greeting. “What the hell were you doing? Did you just get out of the driver’s seat of the Lamborghini?”

“So what if I did?” I became defensive. “Am I not allowed to have my own interests or do anything outside the needs of the company?”

She tsked impatiently. “Amelia, you can do whatever you like, so long as it’s not irresponsible or dangerous. Plus, I can’t believe you’re hanging out with that Darius. He’s one of the creepiest men in town!”

“When has she ever listened to anything we’ve ever told her, Ver?”

Ace. So, he was here too.

I glared at Veronica. “You could have told me he was coming.”

Veronica blushed. “I’m sorry. It was a last-minute call. Listen, I think there’s so much more—”

Her words were cut short by Ace’s angry grunt. “How far will you go before you land in inescapable danger, Amelia? How can you be so immature?”

I bunched my hands into fists, willing my voice to remain low. “What are you talking about? I just drove a fucking car, that’s all.”

“You just drove a fucking car?” He rolled his eyes, exaggerating the words so hard that he looked like he was about to have a convulsion.

“No, ma’am, what you did was try to take ownership of a vehicle far beyond your capacity, and treat it as brashly and irresponsibly as you do everything else! When will you learn—”

“Ace.” I raised my hands to my forehead, trying to quell the rising current of an impending migraine. “Can we not do this right now? There’s reporters everywhere.”

“You wouldn’t do this if father were here, you know? You’d never be able to behave in such an indisciplined, ill-mannered—”

“That’s enough, Ace.”

I turned to Veronica, surprised. I hadn’t expected her to stand up for me. That too against Ace. He looked nonplussed himself.

“Yes, but don’t you—”

“If Amelia gets a kick out of racing cars, so be it. I know why you’re worried, but there are healthier ways to address this. For now, I’d like to get a bite to eat.”

I fell into a mutinous march behind Ace and Veronica. In my rear-view vision, I recalled a picture my mother had shown me back at the country mansion.

It was of my father, clad in a splendid suit, owning the racetrack like racing was part of his very cellular makeup, his blood and soul.

I didn’t know much about the history there, but I intended to ask him when he’d be back. I knew my veins followed the same rhythms as his.

Racing wasn’t something I did just because I could or to be brash.

It gave me the chance to go inward. It felt good.

“We may get tired of giving you chances, Amelia,” Veronica whispered as she fell into step with me.

“Good, I’m tired of you guys offering them.”