It was packed on the side streets with fans heading to their viewing spots. Some were wearing clothing in support of their favorite driver or team, but most were dressed more like Emery and I were. Upscale and refined, while staying on top of the trends. Petra had done an outstanding job making my girlfriend look great.
The harbor was lined with yachts, and people milled about onboard, enjoying the perfect prerace weather.
We were escorted by the hospitality staff up to the covered balcony where we’d spend the day, and while we waited for the test laps to begin, I snapped a picture of Emery. She stood at the edge of the balcony, one hand on the railing, and her VIP lanyard flapping gently in the breeze. Our host offered to take one of us together, so I fit myself in beside Emery and wrapped an arm around her waist.
It been so long since I’d held a genuine smile on my face, but this one came easily.
I took my phone back and evaluated the picture, only to discover the guy had taken several. He’d caught one where we were both mid-laugh and she was looking up at me. It made my heart go out of rhythm. Not just from the enamored way she seemed to gaze up at me, but at how natural and real we looked together.
Like a couple utterly smitten with each other.
I forced the thought from my head and forwarded the pictures on to my social media team, letting them choose which image to post and write whatever caption they thought was appropriate.
Some years, the Monaco Grand Prix was full of action, or crashes, or a come-from-behind victory, but this year’s concluded without much drama. Driver error and car trouble for some of his competitors helped Leitner finish in eighth place, which allowed him to score some points—but he was nowhere near a podium finish. The checkered flag went to Janssen, who’d executed a nearly flawless run, and I was thrilled for him and the entire Mercedes team.
We stayed in the balcony to watch the award ceremony and the three drivers douse each other with champagne, before beginning our walk back to the hotel. We were nearly there when she talked me into visiting the casino. We gambled and chatted with other race fans from all over the world, and I didn’t mind how unlucky we were at roulette, because I was having too much fun with her.
I leaned in close and lowered my voice so no one else would hear. “How long do you think it’d take you to break into the vault here?”
She laughed like my question was hilarious. “Right now? It’d be impossible.”
“Not Ocean’s Eleven style. I mean, like if they asked you to do it.”
“Still impossible. I don’t have my tools and I don’t know anything about what kind of vault it is.” She picked up the remaining stack of chips we had. “When’s your birthday?”
“January eighteenth.”
She placed the chips on the red eighteen. “It’s not like what you see in movies. What I do is technical, like surgery. I’m trying to manipulate the open without damaging the safe, so the customer can continue using it after I’ve finished the job.”
She was contemplative for a moment, watching the people around us also place their bets.
“Plus, I need to know everything I possibly can about the model I’ll be working on, so I know which attack to start with. Some of them, it’s easier to drill into the back panel. That way I can bypass the lock and countermeasures completely, and once I’m through, I’ll use a rod to punch open the quick-release.”
“Is that what you did with Lambert’s?”
She shook her head. “I can’t get to the back of it because he had it installed in the floor. The only option was to go in through the front. I had to drill a three-millimeter hole above the glass panel and use a borescope to see the wheel pack. After that, it was easy. All I had to do was rotate the dial, line up the notches, and watch the fence fall into place.”
“You drilled a hole in his safe? Don’t you think he might notice?”
“Three millimeters is tiny, and easy to cover. I bet the paint was dry by the time Jillian left the room.”
The dealer spun the roulette wheel, and all eyes focused in on the white ball as it circled the outer rim, running opposite of the spinning wheel. Its circuit slowed, and it dropped down onto the game board, bouncing a few spots before finally settling in.
“Red sixteen,” the dealer announced, repeating it in French.
A couple at the other side of the table cheered.
Emery faked disgust as she glared at me. “Ugh, you’re so unlucky.”
“I don’t know, I feel pretty lucky.” I gave her an exaggerated, sappy smile. “I met you, didn’t I?”