Chapter 3

I was struggling to finish my breakfast when my phone started ringing for the third time.

I ignored it. Whoever was calling could wait until I finished eating.

My phone rang again.

With an annoyed sigh, I answered without checking the screen.

“Who died?”

“Good morning to you too, Madison!” Olivia Brooks shouted.

I pulled the phone away from my ear. “Olivia, if you want to keep your hearing, stop screaming.”

“The results are out!”

I froze. “What results?”

“Don't annoy me this morning. The motorsport development program results! They posted them on the department noticeboard a few minutes ago.”

I dropped my bread onto my plate. “They did what?”

“Madison, are you deaf? Get your lazy self over here before I lose my mind waiting for you!”

The call ended before I could respond.

I grabbed my bag and hurried out. After days of worrying about my performance, I was finally going to know whether I'd made it.

***

By the time I reached the department, a crowd had gathered around the noticeboard. Students were celebrating, while others looked ready to cry.

I spotted Olivia and squeezed my way toward her.

“Move, people! Some of us have lives to ruin!” I muttered.

Olivia grabbed my arm. “Look!”

My eyes raced down the list.

MADISON BROOKS—SELECTED.

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

I made it!

“You made it!” Olivia squealed, pulling me into a hug. “I told you! I told you that you would!”

I laughed. “Okay, don't break my ribs. I still need them.”

She released me and pointed at the second part of the notice. “Keep reading.”

My eyes moved down the list until they landed on the name beside mine.

ASSIGNED RACER: DAMON CALLOWAY.

My smile disappeared. “No.”

Olivia frowned. “What do you mean, no?”

“No, as in absolutely not. No, as in somebody made a mistake. No, as in I'd rather work with a broken engine that has developed personal issues.”

She burst out laughing. “Madison, stop it!”

“I'm serious, Olivia!”

“So am I. You're assigned to Damon Calloway!”

“I can read!”

Of all the people I could have been assigned to, why him?

Still, beneath my disbelief was a flicker of excitement. Damon was a professional GT racer, and working with him could give me valuable experience.

This was a huge opportunity.

I just wished it came with a different man.

“Congratulations, Madison.”

I turned to find two classmates behind us. One smiled, although her expression suggested she wasn't particularly happy for me.

“You're lucky,” she continued. “Getting assigned to Damon Calloway must be every girl's dream.”

“I'm more interested in his car than his face, but thanks.”

She laughed. “Of course. With his family connections, I'm sure he'll make things easy for you.”

My smile faded. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Don't be so sensitive.”

Her friend exchanged a knowing look with her.

I felt my temper rising.

“Listen, if you have something to say, say it properly. I'm not in the mood to solve riddles before lunch.”

“Madison,” Olivia warned, touching my arm.

The girl shrugged. “I'm just saying some people have advantages. Damon is the heir to Calloway Automotive Group. Having him as your partner will make everything easier.”

“Then why don't you apply to be his personal assistant?” I asked sweetly. “You can carry his bag while you're busy admiring his family connections.”

Her mouth fell open.

Olivia coughed, struggling to hide her laughter.

I turned away.

I'd worked too hard to let anyone convince me I didn't deserve my place. Damon might have money and connections, but I'd earned my selection.

And I intended to prove it.

Later that afternoon, I sat in the department lounge reviewing the program schedule when a motorsport news headline caught my attention.

DAMON CALLOWAY SPOTTED WITH MYSTERY MODEL AFTER LATE-NIGHT CLUB OUTING.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I clicked.

The picture showed Damon outside a club with a beautiful woman in a black dress. The article claimed they'd spent much of the evening together and mentioned that he'd been linked to several women recently.

I scrolled through the comments.

Another week, another woman.

Does this guy ever date the same person twice?

His father must be so proud.

I snorted.

“Unbelievable.”

Of course, Damon Calloway was making headlines for something other than racing.

I closed the article. His love life wasn't my business. As long as he showed up for work, he could marry the entire female population for all I cared.

My phone vibrated.

Unknown: Meet me at the café opposite the engineering building. Fifteen minutes.

I frowned.

Who texted people like that?

Another message arrived.

Unknown: And don't be late, sweetheart.

I stared at the screen.

Oh, absolutely not.

I didn't need a name to recognise that tone.

Me: If this is Damon, learn how to ask for a meeting like a normal human being.

Damon: So you do recognise me. I'm touched.

I rolled my eyes.

Me: I'm blocking this number.

Damon: You could. But then you'd miss the opportunity to see my handsome face.

I locked my phone.

I should have ignored him. Instead, curiosity won, and fifteen minutes later, I walked into the café.

Damon sat near the window, looking annoyingly comfortable. “There she is.”

I pulled out the chair opposite him. “Make this quick. I have better things to do.”

“Congratulations, Madison.”

His words caught me off guard.

“Thank you. Was that so difficult?”

“Not at all. I'm capable of being nice.”

“That's a shocking discovery.”

He chuckled. “So, you're officially my student car engineer.”

“Unfortunately.”

“You don't sound excited.”

“I am. I'm just trying not to let the assignment ruin the experience.”

He placed a hand over his chest. “That hurts.”

“Good. Maybe you'll develop a personality to distract people from your ego.”

His grin widened before his expression turned serious. “I need you to do something for me.”

I immediately became suspicious. “If you're about to ask me to lie about your driving skills, the answer is no.”

“Nothing like that.”

“Then what?”

He held my gaze. “I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend.”

I stared at him, waiting for the punchline. It never came.

“I'm sorry. Did you just ask me to pretend to be your girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

“Have you suffered a head injury recently?”

He laughed. “Not that I'm aware of.”

“Would you like me to recommend a doctor?”

“Madison.”

“No, seriously. Because this sounds like the kind of idea someone gets after hitting their head against a wall.”

He shook his head.

“My father has been putting pressure on me to look more settled and responsible. The media isn't helping. Every time I'm seen with a woman, they turn it into a scandal.”

I folded my arms. “So your brilliant solution is to invent a relationship?”

“A public relationship could take attention away from the rumours and show my father I'm serious about something outside racing.”

“And you thought of me because...?”

“Because you're smart, you don't care about my money, and you aren't impressed by my reputation.”

I stared at him. “That is the worst compliment I've ever received.”

“It's still a compliment.”

“Keep it.”

He waited for me to take his proposal seriously.

There were probably hundreds of women who would happily pretend to date Damon Calloway. Instead, he'd chosen me.

“I don't know what kind of women you're used to dealing with,” I said, reaching for my bag, “but I'm not interested in becoming another name on your list.”

His smile weakened. “It's not like that.”

“Really? Because the internet seems to have a different opinion.”

He rubbed his jaw. “This would be an arrangement. We'd agree on boundaries, make a few public appearances, and end it when things settled down.”

“That's supposed to make it better?”

“It could help both of us.”

I paused. “Both of us?”

“You'd get opportunities that could help your career.”

I straightened. “I earned my place in that program, Damon. I don't need to pretend to sleep beside you to prove that I deserve it.”

His expression changed. “That's not what I meant.”

“Then choose your words more carefully.”

For once, he had no immediate comeback.

I grabbed my bag. “I came here because I thought you wanted to discuss the program. If you need an engineer, I'll do my job. If you need a fake girlfriend, find someone else.”

“Madison, wait.”

I looked down at him. “What?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again.

For the first time since I'd met him, Damon Calloway seemed to have absolutely nothing clever to say.

It was almost satisfying.

I turned and walked out.

My phone buzzed as I stepped outside, but I didn't bother checking it.

Damon Calloway had money, fame, and enough charm to make half the world forgive him for breathing.

But if he thought I would become his pretend girlfriend just because he asked with that infuriating smile, he was about to learn something important.

I wasn't one of his easy victories.