Full Throttle

003

Soléne never expected to be in the same location as Ajax Carver on a random Thursday night.

What’s even harder for her to believe was that he’d asked her out for dinner to celebrate his next win.

Unfortunately, after spending one night at Monaco, Soléne caught the next flight to London to meet up with an important client.

She was requested last minute and had to ditch her friend’s birthday party to resume work.

However, she hoped to return to Monaco in time for her date with F1 superstar, Ajax Carver…even though she didn’t date racers.

While trying to keep her brain focused on work, Soléne was low-key nervous on what she’d wear for her date. Perhaps a yellow dinner gown? Or a black two-piece outfit?

How would she even style her curls? She only had a few hours to spare before booking her flight.

She wondered where would they’d go for dinner. She wasn’t too keen on surprises and the suspense was really eating her up.

And the icing on the cake…

Soléne hated the thought of paparazzi stalking them all through night and she wished they’d have dinner somewhere quiet without a thousand camera lenses capturing their moment.

✦ ✦ ✦

Solène was finishing up her client’s therapy report when her assistant, Freya, appeared in the doorway of her office, wearing a light blue scrub identical to hers.

“Isn’t this your racer?” She asked and came closer with her phone outstretched. "The one you were watching the other day?"

Solène looked at the clip playing on her phone, the video was mute—Freya had turned off the volume—and somehow that made the scene even worse.

Ajax Carver sped towards the Portier, somersaulted in the air and crashed into the wall barrier as his car exploded into a blazing fire.

"When did this happen?!" Soléne couldn’t bear to see the video till the end and she quickly handed the phone back to Freya.

"Less than three hours ago.” Freya sat on a chair opposite Soléne’s desk. “They're saying he's alive, he was conscious when they got to him."

"Okay." Soléne exhaled a deep breath to clear the crash image flashing in her mind but she couldn’t.

Ajax lost the race… Ajax crashed… Ajax lost their silly little bet.

He had never lost before, not once in six years.

So what happened?

"They're saying this could be the end of his career." Freya scrolled through more videos of the crash. “I know all sports can be dangerous but I’ll never understand why people love racing at high speed.”

“I will never understand the love too.” Soléne tried to continue her patient’s report but her fingers went numb and she couldn’t grip her pen.

What is wrong with me? She combed her manicured fingers through her loose curls.

“You were in Monaco a few days ago too? Maybe you could’ve been assigned to rehabilitate the crash victim.” Freya said.

“They are other professional rehabilitation nurses and physiotherapists in the world.” She didn’t even want to think about it.

“But none of them are good as you.” Her assistant disagreed and Soléne couldn’t tell if she was just being nice or sincere.

“We have a clinic booked with patients who need our immediate care and I can’t be in Monaco and London at the same time.”

“That’s true.” Freya pouted. “Anyway, once you’re done with Mr. Davis’ report, I’ll schedule him for discharge immediately.” She stood up and turned to leave.

“Thank you, Freya.” Soléne said as her assistant left the office and shut the door behind her.

She stared blankly at the patient’s report in front of her. She'd written half a sentence and stopped mid-word but couldn’t remember what else to write.

“My goodness.” She set the pen down and held her head on both sides. “No, I need to see…” She trailed off and grabbed her phone next to her.

One name on her browser, ‘Ajax’ and the video of the crash flooded her screen. She watched it over and over again and it brought back flashbacks of a painful memory she’s struggled to bury for years.

She exited the video and scrolled down her contacts to where Ajax had saved his number as “Yours To Be.”

“He’s so silly,” Soléne smiled at his cheesy contact name and a tear slipped down her face as her thumb hovered over his number.

I should call him, she thought. But he lost the bet…wasn’t that the deal, another thought countered.

“Don’t be crazy, being there for him is far more important than a bet.” She muttered to herself.

His family and team are already there for him, another thought came to her mind and she quickly turned her phone face-down.

What the hell was she thinking? She had no claim on him. She wasn't his anything. She’d only known him for forty minutes on a Thursday night and that was the full extent of it.

No, she was not going to be the kind of woman who spiraled over a man she'd met once.

He probably doesn’t even remember her after that night. Why would he? He was Ajax Carter and she was just another woman who happened to be next to him.

“Get back to work, Soléne.” She scolded herself and picked up her pen to finish her patient’s report.

Outside the window of the clinic, London moved through its afternoon as though nothing happened. Which was fair, because for most of people here, nothing had.

And she belonged here, not in Monaco with Ajax Carver.

One report down and over ten more to complete but Solène sat still behind her desk for a long minute.

“I cannot bear to feel this way.” She laid a hand on her chest and squeezed her scrub blouse where her heart was clenching.

Picking up her phone, Soléne scrolled down her contact list again and tapped on a number. It rang and rang and she bit her nail, patiently waiting for the call to go through.

“Good afternoon?” A female voice spoke on the other end.

“Good afternoon.” She straightened up. “I’d like to speak with Dr. Fabian Cross.”