Collision: A Driven World Novel (The Driven World)

by Karen Frances

  “Glad to hear it. What do you know?”

  “About racing?” I ask nervously as Ryan re-joins us. Les nods. “Absolutely nothing.”

  “Fucking brilliant. We have an amateur with us,” Ryan snaps, running his hand through his tousled hair and frowning at me. “Just fucking brilliant. She knows nothing. She’s no use to me.” He paces back and forth before stopping.

  I stand before him, fuming at his little outburst which has similarities to the outburst from Felicity. Spoilt rich kids. I step closer, pointing my finger into his firm chest. “Let’s get one thing straight, buddy. When it comes to my work, you’ll soon realise I’m no amateur. But I’m beginning to think I might be working with a fucking child and I’m sure someone wise once said don’t work with animals or children. So, if you want me on your side, you had better get your f…” I refrain from using that word, I’m meant to be professional. “Act together. I’m not here to stroke your ego or put up with your crap.”

  “I know what you can stroke.”

  He didn’t just say that, surely not? But one look into his piercing eyes tells me he did. “Head out of the gutter or the only news headlines you’ll be making this week is for sexual harassment. Now, will I be working, or will I head back to the office now and start typing up my report? The choice is yours.”

  Les is standing at the side. He stayed silent while I’ve given Ryan a mouthful. Ryan is looking at me with wide eyes in disbelief. “Have it your way. We’ll work together.”

  “Thank fuck,” Les says, and my eyes focus on him. “Let’s give Ellie a tour, and if the car is ready, you can go out on the track for a lap or two and show her what you do and what she’s been missing. You never know, we might convert you to an F1 fan.”

  “That sounds like a plan,” Ryan mumbles not looking at me.

  “I’d like that,” I say as we walk toward the building. I’d learned in the car on the drive here that this building and the track is owned by Ryan. I asked if it was usual for a driver to own his own track and Les informed me it is. But this was always a dream of Ryan’s, and now it’s a reality. He goes on to tell me that the car he’s driving on the track today or as he puts it honing his skills isn’t this seasons car, it’s the car he raced last year. Today, I’m not taking physical notes. That can wait until tomorrow, but I will still take mental notes. Hopefully, Ryan will settle down, because at the moment, the impression I have of him isn’t a great one. I’m actually thinking I might prefer to be in the office, putting up with Felicity.

  We enter through the glass doors and there’s a huge reception desk and a woman behind it and instantly I’m wondering why a receptionist would be needed. There are many doors leading from the main entrance and a staircase, along with a lift that goes up to the next levels. Les introduces me to the woman named Stacey; she seems lovely and very professional. He asks her a few questions, and she answers and hands him some mail.

  “Ellie, hopefully I’ll see you later. Maybe for lunch. It would be nice to have another woman to talk to.”

  I smile and answer. “Hopefully.”

  Ryan walks through a set of double doors after pressing the security access with his clearance tag. Les tells me he’ll ensure I get one of those by the end of the day. The walls of the corridor we walk along are lined with picture after picture of sports cars. They all look the same to me, and I say that to Les, who tells me they are all unique. We enter another door, and this is the bloody cleanest garage I’ve ever seen, and no car.

  “Looks like the car has been checked,” Les says. “We’ll go trackside soon. Ryan, do you want to come with us or are you going to your car?”

  “I’ll be outside. See you both soon,” he says without looking at us and exiting the room through the open garage door.

  “I’ll give you a whistle-stop tour of downstairs, then we can head outside.”

  Les was right about the whistle-stop tour of the ground floor of the building. I learn there are a few charities that have offices within the building and they don’t pay rent. Ryan provides the offices and helps out with other things they need to. There has to be a reason Ryan gives back to the community/country. I just need to discover what it is. Hopefully, this will be something he’ll be forthcoming with. I’m shown locker and shower rooms before Les takes me outside to what he refers to as the pit stop, and that is where I find Ryan, along with a few members of his team, I think.

  He’s standing with his bare back to me. Broad shoulders and muscle definition are all I see as he pulls on what looks like under armour before pulling up the overalls that are bunched around his waist. I gulp, hoping no one is watching me as I watch him. He has a body to die for and no tattoos. I’m a little disappointed in that.

  I’m here to work. Just work.

  I wonder how often I’ll have to tell myself those words in the coming weeks.

  “Gentlemen, this is Ellie. She’ll be around over the coming weeks. So at least try to be nice,” Les says. There’s a chorus of hellos and handshakes as some of the guys tell me their names, which, no doubt, I won’t remember. Ryan turns around, zipping up the front of his suit and releases a huff. “Now that you’ve all met Miss Cooper, can we get back to work?” Ryan bellows, ensuring everyone hears him. Maybe it’s me, but I think he’s already in a bad mood. Is that because he has race next week, or is it because of me?

  I’m not sure, but I’m going to try and stay as professional as I can.

  He grabs his helmet from one of the guys standing beside him, who I’ve yet to be introduced to, before he walks toward the car without talking to anyone.

  “Hi, Ellie. I’m Dylan. I’m this prick’s best friend and I keep him in line.”

  “Hi, Dylan,” I say, already liking him and his reference, which I happen to agree with, to his friend.

  “Do you want to come up to the control room and watch from there? You’ll get a perfect view.”

  “That would be great,” I say. With a nod of encouragement from Les, I follow Dylan back inside and up the stairs. “How long have you and Ryan been friends?”

  “Since we were twelve. We met on the track.”

  “Oh!”

  “We were both competing in the same kart race and we’ve been friends ever since.”

  “Wow. So, do you not race now?”

  “No. I was always more interested in the technical side of racing. What about you? Did you always want to be a reporter?”

  “Yes, although sports reporting is very new to me.”

  “Yeah, I heard Ryan having his moan. Listen, his bark is worse than his bite.” I laugh a little and I’m not sure why, but I feel myself flush. “I was surprised seeing you today, especially knowing he followed you into the bathroom on Friday night.”

  Really? A heavy feeling fills my chest. Was he there, or has Ryan been mouthing off? This is not going to be an easy job.

  “Considering I heard you give my friend a mouthful, I’m surprised you’re speechless.”

  “What do you want me to say except Ryan might be the biggest dickhead I’ve ever come across.”

  Dylan holds a door open for me, but smirks with his response. “I think you and I are going to get on great because we can at least agree on that. Look, other than following you into the bathroom, which I happened to witness, I don’t know what was said or happened between you because Ryan hasn’t revealed anything about your encounter. But if he becomes a problem, let me know. I’m the only one who seems to be able to control his reins.”

  “Thank you.” I sigh with relief. I’m glad Dylan doesn’t know. The less people that know about Friday, the easier my job will be. I hope.

  “Welcome to my domain,” he says as I enter the room. “Ryan might think he’s in charge, but the reality is, here I am. What we have here mimics everything we’d have at a track. Although on race day I’m not the one in control, that’s up to the Team Principal and the technical team. Here we can get a feel for everything the car does and Ryan’s reaction to it. It’s all abou
t collecting data on the computers before me.”

  “Really?”

  “You sound very surprised.”

  “I suppose I am.”

  “Take a seat and I’ll show you.”

  I take a seat beside him and watch with interest. He tells me the car’s computer system is shown on the screens in front of him. If there’s anything failing, he knows before Ryan and lets him know he needs to bring the car back in. While Ryan is on the track and in the car, Dylan has constant contact with him. He explains that’s why it makes sense for not just Ryan but every driver to have the person they trust the most working as part of their team.

  Ryan’s voice fills the room. “Dylan, am I good to go?”

  “Okay, let’s do this. A few laps, no more.”

  Ryan doesn’t reply, but the room comes to life as he starts revving the engine. I stare out the glass front, watching the track. I wasn’t expecting the noise, but Dylan quickly silences it as he tunes into what’s going on, while I watch as the red sports car slowly makes its way to the track.

  I get no warning as the car makes the transition from slow to fast. My eyes stay mesmerised on the clear track below. I gasp with each bend the car takes and I wonder what possesses drivers like Ryan to take this up as a sport. All the money in the world couldn’t get me driving and putting myself at risk.

  I’m not sure how many laps of the track he makes before the car starts to slow and pulls back up to where he started from.

  “Well, what do you think?” Dylan asks, removing headphones and a mouth-piece.

  “Truthfully?” I ask. He nods, silently waiting. “I think you are all fucking crazy.” I cover my mouth with my hand. “So much for me staying professional.”

  “I’m sure we’ve all heard much worse, especially around here. Let’s go back down and you can talk to the man himself.”

  “Sure.” I have so many questions buzzing around in my head and I don’t know what to ask about first.

  We’re downstairs and back in the cool air when I see Ryan climb out the car. I stand back, and Dylan takes Ryan’s helmet when he gets out of the car and slaps him on the back. Ryan smiles, unzipping his suit and removing his arms from it. The clothes under his suit are stuck tight to his body, giving me a glimpse of what lies beneath. I try to stop myself staring, looking around the track-side. Members of the team are close by, along with Les. Ryan and Dylan talk for a moment, but as I look toward them, Ryan’s eyes are on me. The intensity of his gaze sends shivers through my spine and there’s a deep ache brewing inside. The same feelings I had when we shared a kiss. I want to turn away but I can’t.

  Stupid feelings. Feelings will get me into trouble if I’m not careful.

  Chapter 7

  I’ve never felt so young and foolish as I stand with my eyes connecting with his. I never did the whole school-girl type crushes because I was so busy looking after myself, making sure there was food to eat. I had zero interest in boys. But with his eyes on me, I can only imagine this is what a crush would feel like.

  Yes, I’m twenty-six years of age and having my first crush. Of course, there have been guys in my life, but there’s just something about him. Something that has my head in a complete spin.

  This isn’t good.

  Not for me, and especially not for my work.

  I need to pull myself together. If I can’t, Frank will have to give this assignment to someone more suited for it. As the thought enters my mind, a swarm of jealousy sweeps through me. I don’t want anyone else to work with Ryan, especially not Felicity. Although, they’d probably be a match made in heaven.

  “What did you think, sweetheart?” Ryan asks, walking toward me.

  Sweetheart! “Let me make this clear, buddy; I am no one’s sweetheart.” There’re a few sniggers around me, but no one is looking in our direction. Everyone has their backs to us.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Day one and we’ve already given each other cute little nicknames. Now, you and I are going for lunch.”

  “Excuse me! Usually you ask someone. I don’t appreciate being told what to do.”

  He crosses his arms. “I think you’re wrong about that, but we can play it your way. I’d like to take you to lunch. We have some things to discuss in private. Although, we can talk about Friday night right here, if you’d prefer?” His voice carries louder than I would’ve liked and it’s Dylan who is facing us now, his eyebrows raised.

  “Fine,” I huff. “Have it your way, this time.”

  He cocks his head to the side, giving me that smug look that tells me he’s a man used to getting his own way. “Guys, I’m taking Ellie for lunch. Anything you need me for can wait until later.”

  There’s a whole load of whistling from some of the guys and I can feel my skin burning. Dylan pulls Ryan away to the side, and even though I can’t hear what’s being said, the expression tells me Dylan isn’t happy about something. And that something is me…

  Both men walk back toward me. “Ellie don’t put up with his crap,” Dylan says.

  “I don’t intend to,” I say, but my voice lacks confidence.

  “If you two have finished then we have lots to discuss over lunch.” Now who is the jealous one? I almost smile at his outburst. “Dylan, I’ll see you later.” He grabs my hand and pulls me with him, but I shake from his hold.

  “Have fun,” Dylan shouts.

  “Fun!” Ryan snorts beside me. He doesn’t say anything as we walk back through the building and exit the main doors that bring us back to the car park. I survey the cars, and instantly I know which car is his. Flash git. It’s the same bright red as his race car. “After you.” He holds open the passenger door and waits. It must be the mood I’m in, but I keep him waiting as I do the whole dramatic slow entrance of getting in his car. I grin when I hear him huff not once but several times. He doesn’t say anything, and I don’t look in his direction as he climbs into the seat and starts the engine of the car. I note his hand sliding the car into gear, and then he speeds away from the car park. Before I know it, his car whizzes through the city streets and I find myself on the very familiar motorway I take to go home.

  “My car is back in the city,” I say, thinking I could’ve just gone home after lunch. I suppose he doesn’t know where I live so he wouldn’t know that it would make more sense if I had my car.

  “I know that, and I promise I’ll drop you back off later to pick it up.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Somewhere we’ll get peace to talk. To clear the air between us, and of course, eat some good food. Unless you’re going to tell me you’re one of those picky women who hardly eat?”

  “Does it look as though I hardly eat? On second thoughts, don’t answer that.” He doesn’t, and we sit in an unbearable silence, tension filling the air.

  When the car finally stops, I take in my surroundings and wonder where we are. There’s a huge country house before me, which could very well be a village pub, but I don’t recall passing a village. Trees line the gravel drive, beautiful shrubs and colourful flowers highlight the green lawns to either side, and I don’t see a car park.

  Where has he brought me?

  Ryan gets out of the car and I wait for him to come around and open my door, which he does very gentlemanly.

  “Thank you,” I say, taking his hand. His touch is warm and my skin prickles beneath his. “I thought you were taking me for lunch?”

  “Yes, in my home.” My heart races. I shouldn’t be here alone with him. This isn’t a good idea. I don’t even have my own car so I can make a quick getaway. I close my eyes for a second, trying to gather my thoughts. “I promise, I’ll be on my best behaviour,” he says with a smirk, pulling me by the hand towards the very imposing country house.

  Somehow, I don’t think Ryan and ‘best behaviour’ go together.

  “That’s what I’m worried about,” I whisper. He laughs, opening the large oak front door. I had Ryan down for some bachelor pad in the city filled with chrome black and w
hite, very minimalistic. Not this. I gaze around the vast entrance and hallway and just… wow. The wood-panelled walls are beautiful, and then I see the stunning oak staircase. This truly is a remarkable country home, a family home. And I already know Ryan isn’t a family man. He’s very much single.

  “Don’t worry, you can have a tour of the bedrooms and upstairs the next time I bring you home, but for today, we can settle for the kitchen.”

  Arrogant, smug, cocky bastard. He’s so bloody damn sure of himself.

  He’s still got my hand in his. I pull from his hold and stop, staring at the man who is now looking at me as though I’ve done something wrong. “Come,” he says attempting to take my hand again, but I refuse him. He huffs muffling not-so-under his breath about me being infuriating. He has some bloody nerve. Ryan Jackson may be used to every woman fawning after him, but I will not be one of those women.

  He leads the way through the house to the kitchen, and wow. I think that is going to be my word for the day: wow.

  “This is stunning,” I say, taking in the truly unique modern, yet country kitchen.

  “I’m glad you like it. I love it. Take a seat.”

  I do, and I watch him going through the fridge then the cupboards. “Are you okay with a sandwich?”

  “Yes, as long as you can make a decent cuppa to go with it?” The best part of a sandwich is drinking a nice cup of tea.

  “I do love a challenge. Tea and sandwiches coming up.” I sit back and watch him. He looks so at ease in the kitchen; not many men do.

  “How long have you lived here?” I ask.

  “Already thinking about the story, I see.” I shrug. I’m trying to keep my mind on the job, which is somewhat trying with the man before me. “I’ve owned this property for two years, but I’ve stayed here most of my life.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yes. This was my family home, and after my parents died, I couldn’t bring myself to sell it. So, I stay here when I don’t have much on and I need to relax and unwind.”

  “It does seem very relaxing, away from the hustle and bustle of the city.”