Martin watched the laps very excitedly, but at one point he saw Steve in the corner of his eye. The driver was standing in the stands in the company of two beautiful girls. Martin knew one of them from a huge billboard advertising the latest collection of underwear designed by a very famous fashion designer. The existence of such beautiful and sexy women as this model should be prohibited by law.
All three were staring at the car intently. The girls squealed and clapped, Steve smirked. He knew he was a better driver.
The man he was talking to that day, Karl Walton, Martin corrected himself, walked over to them in the company of another famous model, and tapped Steve on the shoulder. The driver turned to him and they talked for a while, but the noise and distance prevented Martin from understanding what they were talking. That online media hype incident was long resolved and nobody came back to it. Steve Paxton was safe in his position as first driver. Besides, mechanic didn't have to hear them to figure out what they were talking about. Martin knew the point - it would be Paxton's turn soon.
Martin felt excited at the thought. He immediately returned to boxing to take an active part in the preparations.
It no longer mattered that he was new. He was in the basic service of Steve's car and worked on it many times in training, also at racing pace. As for this car, he already knew every bolt of it.
Steve won't hit the track until Jack gets off him. Sponsors were sponsors, but old Fergus had no plans to pounce on drivers outside of the real competition. Martin understood him, but he wanted to see them together on the track himself.
Jack riding to the booth received a copious dose of applause. They were due to him. As always, he did very well. But Steve was Martin's idol and he was waiting for his performance with real impatience.
As Steve Paxton, in his driver's suit and helmet under his arm, left the hall and into the garage, Martin briefly ran out of breath. He had seen him in this outfit a dozen times out of this corridor, but today the red and yellow hues of the Fergus Stables gave the impression that Paxton was on fire. Although no, it was not the suit itself, but the aura that the driver had around him, full of determination and passion for the sport he loved. Steve's eyes shone like a burning city with a similar sense of danger. Martin shivered. If he were to face Paxton now on the track, he would probably be mentally crushed under his dominant strength and will to win.
People with such eyes are able to get anything they want without even asking for permission.
The party that had been running since the early afternoon was almost over. All the elderly party guests politely said goodbye, got into their expensive cars and drove away. Only the younger ones remained, who hadn't had enough fun yet.
Jack's gone too. Martin saw him get into the car of the girl who wanted to see him drive, a bit drunk. Martin learned from Allen that she was a young heiress to a huge fortune. Not only was she charmingly beautiful, but also terribly rich. Jack was lucky.
Steve, the two girls Martin had seen him with before, Karl Walton and his companion were perhaps the last to stay. The girls were tipsy, but the men seemed completely sober. It was weird for a party, especially since the two of them could go ahead and sleep in Fergus's big house.
The mechanics have already parted ways. Martin has just said goodbye to the last of them. He showered and dressed and walked outside the building, where he noticed Steve's group of five.
Paxton seemed to be himself again - exactly what Martin knew from television. He put his arms around both girls and smiled at them in such a way that each in the blink of an eye could lose her heart for him. If, of course, either of them hasn't done so yet.
"So what," Martin heard a fragment of Paxton's speech. "Are we moving the party to the 'Joker House' "?
Karl Walton looked at his companion. She wasn't the famous model Martin had seen Karl with before, but she was certainly just as beautiful. Walton's companion, however, had more than beauty, and had an aura of klay and high society around her.
"Why not," she replied.
"Agreed," Karl added.
"Girls?"
"I will go with you wherever you want."
"Sure," the other said vigorously.
Martin sighed. He will never have the opportunity to visit this club and he could only dream of such company. He had to be content with what he had and it was not so little.
"Hey kid," Martin froze as he realized Steve was addressing him. "Will you come and have a drink with us?"
"Me?"
"Don't be fussy, come on."
Martin looked at Paxton suspiciously, but there was no joke in his eyes, on the contrary, he looked very serious.
"The more the merrier," he added, seeing his indecision.
Martin's heart began to beat with excitement. From the day Steve was briefly the star of the internet gossip because of the fist-teen incident, the men only exchanged a few words. Martin would never, ever dare to dream that Steve would invite him into his company. There was just something wrong in this situation. He, a young mechanic, practically no one, would spend time in the company of all these famous and beautiful people? In the company of Steve Paxton? It probably wasn't real.
Martin looked at their faces and saw no disapproval, rather curiosity. Maybe they actually thought that 'the more the merrier'? And Steve's gaze ... Yes, such eyes were impossible to refuse. They did not ask, they demanded. Feeling his blush, Martin joined the group.
"Let me introduce you: this is Martin, and this is Wendy and Tamara. Next come Karl and Anna - no surnames, positions or professions, just a bunch of friends heading to the party. - Unfortunately, ladies, since you are both equally cute, I cannot decide which one to sit next to me. In that case, to avoid conflicts, my colleague will take the place next to the driver."
The disappointment on the girls' faces was evident, but they could not argue with that attitude. So they took their seats in the back seat of the cramped sports car and started giggling right away. Martin settled down next to Steve, feeling he was experiencing the most wonderful dream of his life.
They set off in two cars. Paxton's car drove first. Martin felt weird sitting in that car again next to the man he so admired. He was too intimidated to speak.
"You know, Martin," he twitched in surprise when he heard a nice female voice next to his ear. He looked around and barely bumped his noses into the billboard model, Wendy. "You're really cute for a guy. Can I take a picture with you?"
"Only if I can make one with you."
The girl chuckled and reached into her purse. She pulled out a phone glistening with artificial diamonds. At least Martin hoped they were artificial.
"Eh, it's a bit tight in here, don't you think?" He pointed out the flaw of her plan. "Why don't we wait until we get off?" He suggested.
The girl sighed in resignation and looked at him with admiration.
"Not only beautiful, but also smart."
Martin did not know how to respond to the compliment, but when he saw Paxton's amused, yet subtle smile, he flushed to the tips of his ears and looked down at his lap.
"See, you embarrassed him," Steve said instead. "Men aren't used to compliments. Our role is to give them. A beautiful woman like you should know that."
"Flatter," Wendy laughed.
Martin blushed even more. It wasn't a compliment that embarrassed him, but Steve's smile. After all, he knew perfectly well that he only stated the obvious and did not show off his intelligence. Paxton really didn't have to laugh at him.
As soon as they got out of the car, Wendy ran to Martin to take a selfie with him. The club bouncer looked at it suspiciously. The girl was dressed just for the party and famous, while the boy accompanying her did not look like someone visiting the salons. However, since he was in such company and a popular model was taking a photo with him, it meant that he met the standards of the place and without a single wry look Martin was allowed in.
A completely different world awaited him here than the one he was used to.