One Night To Risk It All

Inigo’s heart was breaking at the pain and humiliation he heard in his sister’s voice.

“I had no idea who she was to you, Bia.”

“Fair enough. But I never want to see her again,” Bianca said. Just then Derek Caruthers entered the room, rushing to his wife’s side.

“Bianca, are you okay? I’m sorry I wasn’t here with you.”

“It’s fine. I’m glad we’re leaving this morning. I’m ready to get back home,” she said. “I never thought I’d see her again.”

“I’m sorry,” Scarlet said. “I had no idea you two knew each other or the circumstances. Did you know?”

She pivoted on her husband, Alec, who just wrapped his arm around her and hugged her close. “Of course I knew he’d had an affair with Marielle. I didn’t know you knew her.”

Inigo just walked out of the room. He was angry. All of the emotions that he’d felt when Jose had died, and he’d learned the truth, came back. He knew that wasn’t a healthy space for him to be in and ignored his father’s calls and his brothers as he first walked and then ran back to the guesthouse where he was staying. He changed into his running gear and left the house through the glass doors that led to the beach. He was vaguely aware that it was cold, and a light rainy snow was falling, but he didn’t feel any of it.

He only heard the pounding of his feet on the pavement of the path that was empty on this wintry January morning. He concentrated on each step, trying not to allow any thoughts in his head, but it was hard to keep them out.

He had always had a gift for attracting relationships that were toxic, but this had to totally take the cake. He’d found the one woman in the world he really couldn’t be with. It would destroy his family if he was with her.

And yeah, it had been a fun hookup, but there was another part of him that wondered if this was his way of making sure that nothing distracted him from racing. From winning. He’d always been the kind of athlete that pushed everything aside to win. And he was close to being the champion, which had been his one goal since he’d started in the Formula One junior program at fourteen.

He also felt the pain of realizing that his idol had feet of clay. That he was human and real and that he hadn’t been perfect. The cold air felt like a blade in his lungs as he continued to run, and he veered off the path and into the small town, where everything was closed. No one was out this early on New Year’s Day.

Just him.

Just the man who had too much on his mind and no easy way to sort it out. Should he just let Marielle go? Should he try to get vengeance for Bianca? He couldn’t help it, but that thought had entered his mind. Maybe it was that he felt she’d fooled him too. She had to know who he was. But how could she have? He’d been on a different circuit that year when Bianca had been pregnant and Jose had cheated.

Many times Inigo had wondered if he’d still been shadowing Jose, would his brother-in-law have thought twice about cheating?

At the end of the day, was he to blame? He’d pursued winning at any cost, and had turning his back on Bianca and Jose that year been part of the other man’s downfall?

He had no way of knowing. Jose was dead, and Bianca had never wanted to talk about it.

He stopped running, leaning forward to put his hands on his knees, his breath still sawing in and out of his lungs. His exhalations were loud in his head but didn’t drown out his thoughts. He could fix this. Make up for anything he might or might not have done back in the day.

He could have Marielle and publicly dump her. Would that even bother her? She’d been a married man’s mistress.

But even as the thought formed, he knew that it didn’t matter. She needed to know that the Velasquez family weren’t to be toyed with. The rational part of his mind warned that there was more to the story than he knew. That the “facts” he had came from the dirt that Alec had dug up on her on the internet. Most of the mistresses had been named but Marielle hadn’t been on the list.

But he could only listen to his gut and his heart. His heart remembered the paleness of his sister’s face as she’d seen him standing next to Marielle. His gut remembered the strident tone that Marielle had used before walking out. His body remembered her twisting under him the night before.

He could have it all. The woman he lusted after and revenge for his family.

Hiding at her parents’ house wasn’t ideal. The maids were in and out of her room, her mom sent a tray with lunch, and then her dad knocked on her door. And finally, Marielle faked needing to visit a friend having an emergency and left. Her brother was in the garage again when she came downstairs, and she got it. She wished her problems were as easy for the world to see as Darian standing there with an unlit cigarette. But hers were different.

She was the one with a weakness for men and making dumb choices…could that be called addiction too?

She left in a cloud of muddy snow as she sped away from her problems. There was a wistful sort of regret that engulfed her as she got on the Long Island Expressway and headed back toward Manhattan.

Dang.

This must be how Inigo felt when he was racing. There was a certain freedom from everything but the road and concentrating on the path ahead of her. Maybe she should take up driving professionally.

As soon as the thought popped into her head, she hit an icy patch and her car hydroplaned for a minute, fishtailing wildly on the road. She took her foot off the gas as she saw her life flash before her eyes.

Damn.

She slowed the car and pulled onto the shoulder. Her hands were shaking, and her heart was racing. She didn’t want to die. She sat there. The silence in the car made her ears ring, and finally she turned on the radio. “About Last Night” was playing, so she flipped the station and heard Debussy’s “La mer.” Yeah, classical was good. Just what she needed right now.

She dug into her purse and found her phone. Scarlet had texted her.

Are you okay? I wish you hadn’t left like that.

What could she say?

I’m not great. I’m sorry. I could tell I was freaking her out, and you know I’m not good in those situations. I hope I didn’t make things awkward for you.

Scarlet and Siobhan had been the first women friends she’d genuinely had in years, and she hadn’t wanted to screw it up. But maybe she had. Maybe she should stop trying and just enjoy the train wreck that was usually her life.

You didn’t. Well, it was awkward, but I feel like both of you were freaked. If you want to talk, I’m going to be in the city until Friday. Let’s have coffee…by that I mean you drink the coffee and I smell it and pretend that I’m having some.

Marielle felt a wave of relief go through her.

Thank you. I’d love that. I’m heading back to New York now. My parents’ house was stifling. I’m sorry again for this morning.

I know the feeling. No problem. Can’t wait to catch up.

She tossed the phone back into her bag before she asked for Inigo’s number. A part of her felt like she should say something to resolve the situation with him, but another part—the smarter part—knew there would be no resolution. She could keep him in her memories as a fun night. And that was all.

Her phone rang, and she glanced at the caller ID. It was her friend Siobahn Murphy, who was the lead singer of Venus Rising. The two liked to party together, and she was always down for a good time. Just what Marielle needed at this moment.

“Hey, girl, happy New Year,” she said as she answered the speakerphone and got back on the road.

No more driving fast to outrun her problems. She sat in the slow lane going a respectable speed.

“Hiya. Scar texted me,” Siobahn said. “What the hell happened?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, I met this cute guy and he was funny and flirty. Even his dad was funny, encouraging him to talk to me. We kissed at midnight…it was hot,” Marielle said. More than hot. It had made her see him as more than a hookup. She had to be honest with herself. She hated the way things had ended with Inigo. But she doubted there was any way back from the current situation.

“Yeah, and then?”

“Then one thing led to another, and I spent the night with him,” she said.

Siobahn wasn’t fishing for lurid sex details. But there was no way to explain the thing without mentioning that.

“Then this morning he invited me to breakfast with his family, and I knew Scar would be there, so I was, like, sure,” Marielle said. Then she walked in and saw Jose’s wife staring at her like she was the most loathsome woman on the face of the planet… Maybe she’d skip mentioning that bit to Siobahn. “And…”

“I know. You don’t have to say it. I’m in Manhattan. Come to my place. We can eat ice cream or drink wine or do whatever you need. Don’t go to your place alone,” Siobahn said. “You need someone to remind you that you aren’t that woman anymore.”