Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73568 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73568 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Tension coiled in her chest as she replayed the day’s events. The world of Formula International wasn’t just about fast cars and glamorous races—it was a finely tuned symphony of engineering, strategy, and razor-sharp precision. Alex had led her through the labyrinth of technical jargon, patiently explaining the subtle art of understeer and oversteer as if it were second nature. She watched him now, seated across the table from her, effortlessly charming the engineers while keeping one eye on her.
She had expected arrogance, a cool detachment that came with being one of the best drivers in the world. But what she found was a man deeply involved, passionate and far more thoughtful than the headlines ever painted him. The engineers discussed aerodynamic adjustments, the importance of drag and how they’d fine-tune the car for the next race. And he listened—really listened—before giving his own input.
She could almost see the wheels turning in his mind, calculating every possible outcome. She shifted in her seat, her breath hitching when his eyes flicked up to meet hers, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He was a puzzle—a man who lived life in the fast lane, yet never seemed out of control. Except for when he looked at her.
I bite my lip, leaning back in my chair to glance at the clock. I need to go to bed.
But damn if the information I’ve been gathering isn’t improving this story. I don’t recall feeling an excitement like this when I’d dutifully research the past for my historical novels. I found it exciting—and hopefully my readers did too—but there’s something about this racing world that brings a level of exhilaration I haven’t felt before when finishing a paragraph.
Part of me can’t help but marvel at how much Lex’s world is affecting my writing. Each new term, each bit of insight into the engineering side of things, is shaping my book in ways I hadn’t even considered. And I’m not sure it’s even just the information but rather observing Lex’s role within the organization. How respected he is by everyone at Crown Velocity. It’s his steely confidence at such a young age that multiplies his attraction level by a thousand, and when he focuses that attention on me, it’s quite disconcerting. I’m able to transfer that feeling right into my heroine and hopefully those feelings will be palpable to my readers.
Pushing my chair back, I stand and stretch, glancing at the suitcase by the closet door. I’ll check out of this hotel early tomorrow. I managed to find a lovely Airbnb in Woking, only four miles from Crown Velocity. While most offerings were small apartments, this one is a cozy three-bedroom house on Goldsworth Park Lake. It’s slightly more expensive than the apartments, but I couldn’t resist the tiny path that leads to a beautiful body of tranquil water where I can sit and think about my stories. Besides, I reasoned, I’m saving money by leaving the hotel in London, which is twice what I’ll be paying for the Airbnb, not to mention saving on drive time.
All in all, quite the find.
I put the suitcase on my bed and start removing my clothes from the dresser drawers, refolding them into neat piles. I’m halfway finished when my phone rings, startling me that someone would be calling this late.
I glance at my phone on the nightstand and am surprised to see Lex’s name on the screen. Exhaling a long breath, I remember earlier today when he invited me out to the pub with him and Ronan tonight. He also texted me, noting that the pub wasn’t that far from my hotel, but I declined. I just didn’t have the energy, and to be honest, Ronan’s presence was a big deterrent. He gives off a bad vibe, and it’s not just his arrogance—it’s something deeper, something that rubs me the wrong way. But I didn’t tell Lex that. He already knows I don’t like Ronan and even admitted he can be an asshole. I simply said I had to work on my book and that I’d see him tomorrow at Crown HQ.
For a moment, I consider letting my voicemail pick up but then I remember how drunk Lex was at the club, and a surge of responsibility sweeps through me. I don’t want him to get in trouble, so without further hesitation, I answer. “Hello?”
“Posey!” Lex’s voice is loud, playful, and there’s a distinct hum of noise in the background—clinking glasses, laughter, chatter. He’s obviously still at the pub, and while he’s not slurring, I can tell he’s had a few drinks.
“Everything okay?” I ask, even though I can hear in his voice that he’s fine—just tipsy.
“You should come out, hang with us.” His voice drops to a mock whisper. “I promise not to start any fights.”