Liam
McCoy kept quiet after I performed well in Milan. I should’ve been wary of their silence, because before the French Grand Prix, they share how they hired a new PR person to help me with my image.
Hence the reason for Jax and me to be trapped in a McCoy conference room.
Thanks to Claudia’s lack of discretion and delusions of grandeur, McCoy hired a new PR rep from Mexico named Elena. McCoy welcomed her to the team because I’m an idiot and Jax because he got caught with his pants down, quite literally. Jax is on a one-way trip to fuckboy town if he keeps up with his latest antics.
I give her a rundown on the shitstorm that has become my life. Safe to say, yesterday’s drama article about me reconciling with Claudia at the Italian gala put a damper on my mood. Why does Claudia continue to tell absurd stories to the press? She needs to find a new hobby or a new rich boy to fuck because her attitude has gotten out of hand.
Jax sneaks looks at Elena throughout our meeting. I spend my time checking him out, holding back a laugh at how he fidgets in his seat and taps his hands against the table. His reactions are questionable, to say the least.
Jax rarely gets rattled by a woman. I mean, Elena looks nice and all with hair framing her face like a dark halo, brown eyes with dark lashes, and skin with a healthy tan. There’s not a blip of interest on my end. But Jax looks intrigued, and I catch Elena eyeing him a couple times as she runs through the new PR questions and standards. She keeps professional by never looking too long. Props to her for withstanding Britain’s finest who has enough secrets to fill an F1 motorhome.
Jax fails to answer a question she asked, choosing to look at her with a confused face and an apologetic smile. I’m dumbfounded by his reaction.
“Did you listen to a word I said?” Her accent has a melodic rhythm to it. She stares at both of us, awareness dawning on her of how we barely paid attention, both of us caught up in our thoughts.
Jax licks his lips. “Not really. Mind repeating it, love?” He shoots her a grin that usually works on women he picks up, except Elena frowns and shakes her head. Not even Jax’s British accent can save him this time.
“Okay, you two. This is the last time I’ll go through this. Liam, you have to deny everything regarding Sophie Mitchell and Claudia McCoy. For the sake of your career, you don’t want to be seen as a ladder climber who sleeps around with women to get what you want. And Jax, you need to keep away from women for the unforeseeable future until this drama blows over. No more late nights at clubs after that last incident.” She looks at us with an evident distaste.
I withhold the urge to snap at Elena. “I’m not using Sophie. And Claudia throws shit around to stir up trouble. Why doesn’t McCoy deal with her instead of hounding me down, forcing me into these types of meetings? I don’t need to sell stories to tabloids to make money.”
Elena’s eyes show a hint of warmth, breaking away from her professional demeanor.
“Listen, I don’t think you’re a bad guy. I want to help save your career, which may or may not involve a contract with McCoy. And I want to help shine the brand in a more positive light. I’m a fixer, with these types of projects being my specialty, especially in sports like F1.”
I let out a deep breath, willing to work with her. “Well, to start, I’m going to be sleeping around with Sophie. Just in case that secret gets out.”
“No shit. When did this happen?” Jax bounces in his chair, hitting me with a big smile.
“I asked her to be friends with benefits after Claudia terrorized the gala and said a bunch of shit.”
Jax’s smile dims. “Whoa. Are you sure that’s a good idea? What if she catches feelings?”
“You know that feelings aren’t an illness, right?” Elena blurts out.
Jax glances at her, the shine in his eyes replaced with darkness I notice from time to time. “To me, they might as well be. Worse than a plague.”
Elena laughs and rolls her eyes. Jax raises his eyebrow, something indiscernible flashing across his face before he returns his attention to me.
I tilt my head at him. “She’s down to have fun, and so am I.”
“Look at you and Noah, acting like a pair of lovesick twats chasing after the two friends. I’ll be spending the rest of my days in the club, tears dripping into my liquor.” His eyes assess Elena shaking her head. “Well, once your shit blows over.”
“No one said anything about love. Relax.” Part of me hates Jax for pointing out my biggest insecurity as of late. It’s not that I don’t care for Sophie, but the idea of love freaks me the fuck out.
“Ay, no need to get pissy. It’s only a matter of time before your relationship with her explodes in your face. But you can see where this takes you. I mean, you’re already shit out of luck with McCoy, so what else could go wrong?”
I smack him across the head, hoping my hit knocks the stupidity out of him. The way he checks out Elena after tells me it may take more than one hit to cure him.
After another half an hour of Elena’s assistance, we wrap up the meeting because Jax and I have a limited attention span.
I call my agent when I step out of the conference room.
Rick picks up on the second ring. “Hey, man. Just who I wanted to talk to.” His chipper attitude boosts my mood.
“I take it you have good news?”