“Do be quiet, Simon,” Estelle snapped coolly. “You’re embarrassing the girl.”
Emma was more embarrassed for Estelle’s sharp tongue than she was for anything Simon had said. She was glad when three or four others joined the group in the box, distracting her from the Fourniers’ marital discord. Vanni appeared a moment later with their drinks—a punch they had prepared at the bar—and took a seat next to her.
“Feeling lucky, Van?” Simon asked briskly.
“Very,” Vanni replied, his gaze on the track, his hand closing briefly on Emma’s thigh.
“I don’t think I ever heard how you two met,” Estelle said, sipping her drink.
“Emma is a nurse. She cared for Cristina,” Vanni said, his clipped tone and the manner that he continued staring out at the arena track not inviting further inquiry. Emma looked out to the track, too, when she heard some applause and the roar of engines. The drivers were taking their marks. Vanni pointed and she saw the red, blue, black, and white Montand car.
“You want to be down there, don’t you?” Estelle asked, studying Vanni’s profile as an announcer began to speak in French on the arena sound system and the noise level increased from the crowd.
“Down there?” Emma asked, confused.
“Leading Niki’s team. In the pits,” Estelle said.
She turned to Vanni. “You’re usually down in the pits?” she asked him.
Vanni threw Estelle a vaguely annoyed glance. “Sometimes. Not always.”
“Usually,” Estelle said pointedly, taking a bite out of the lemon from her drink with flashin
g white teeth.
At that moment, her concern about what Estelle had said was dampened by Dean and Michelle Shaw’s arrival. They rose up the steps to the box, both of them out of breath and looking very eager. They greeted Emma and immediately took their seats. The drivers were being announced. Emma recognized the names of several drivers she’d met in the past few days, trying to take note of the number and car announced with their name. She clapped extrahard when she heard Niki’s name, the manic excitement of the event spreading to her. The stands were now packed. She could see that the road leading off the center arena to the main circuit was packed on both sides with people.
“The pace car is off,” Vanni said quietly next to her, obviously remembering that she didn’t speak French. Emma sat forward in her seat, following the car at which Vanni pointed. “It’ll lead the drivers through the circuit once,” he said, “getting them up to pace. The drivers can’t leave their lanes or pass the pace car until the pace car leads them across the starting line and the flag is waved,” Vanni explained, pausing to switch on the video monitor next to him as the drivers exited the main arena. His manner was intent and focused.
“How long will the race last?”
“The best clocked time so far was two hours, fourteen minutes, thirty point two seconds set by Niki during time trials,” he said, staring at the screen. Her heart went out to him when she recognized his barely leashed excitement.
“Vanni,” she said softly.
He glanced up at her.
“Is it too late for you to go to the pits?”
“No, but what’s—”
“I think you should go,” she interrupted softly. He gave her an incredulous glance. “You’re usually in the pits when you’re around for one of Niki’s races, aren’t you?” she said, giving him a fond, remonstrative look.
“Don’t pay any attention to Estelle,” his said with quiet disdain, his voice muted by the cheers of people for miles around reverberating off the mountainside.
“I’m not. I’m thinking of you. I should have realized you would have wanted to be in the thick of things. You came to the stands today because of me, didn’t you?” She saw the slight give in his expression and knew that said she’d spoken the truth. “Go on,” she urged. “It’ll do Niki good to know you are there. And Dean and Michelle are here. They’ll keep me company,” Emma added when he opened his mouth to protest.
“All right,” he said suddenly. He saw her smile and leaned over to kiss her. “I’ll come back here to get you after the race,” he said quietly near her lips a moment later.
“Good luck, Gearhead,” she whispered.
“One more shot of it,” he growled quietly, kissing her hard once more. He met her stare when they broke apart a moment later.
“You’re sure it’s okay?”
“Yes. Go,” she laughed.
In the distance, she heard the roar of the approaching engines. The crowd in the main stands began to stand and cheer. Vanni’s small but unguarded smile and the spark of excitement in his blue-green eyes made the sacrifice of his presence more than worth it.