Chapter 169
George said, “Ms. Ailie, we drive all the time, but honestly, I’ve never changed a tire in my life.”
The others nodded in agreement. Curtis and McNeil always had chauffeurs when they traveled; if a car broke down, another would show up in twenty minutes. Changing a tire themselves? That was unheard of.
“Ms. Marchand, aren’t you a race car driver? You must know how to do this, right?”
Someone, a little too bold for their own good, threw out the suggestion. Violet lifted her chin, a faint, mocking smile on her lips.
“I have a professional pit crew for that,” she replied coolly. “There’s no need for me to get my hands dirty.”
In other words, even if she could do it, she certainly wasn’t going to.
“So I guess we’ll have to wait for roadside assistance. But I checked the weather fog’s rolling in soon. Visibility will be awful, and it could take rescue hours to get here.”
Someone murmured that Mr. Langford and Mr. Garcia had both gotten stranded on the road before; what made them think they’d be any luckier?
But the prospect of sitting around for hours didn’t sit well with anyone.
Victoria had been standing quietly to the side. As the silence dragged on, she finally spoke up, her voice calm.
“How about I give it a try?”
Everyone—even Violet and McNeil-turned toward the sound of her voice in surprise.
No one had expected that suggestion to come from Victoria.
“Ms. Turner, changing a tire isn’t like putting on lipstick. You can’t do it,” Nash and Jack chimed in, dismissive. George just looked at her with a bemused smile, but out of a basic respect for women, none of them actually laughed.
Curtis stepped in. “Victoria, why don’t you go back to the car with Ailie and Ms. Marchand? We’ll figure something out.”
Ailie walked over and lowered her voice. “Come on, Victoria. You’re not exactly built for this. Let’s leave it to the guys-they can handle it.”
Victoria finally turned her gaze to McNeil, her eyes cold and distant, as if the two of them were strangers.
“What about you, Mr. Langford? What do you think?”
What McNeil didn’t know was that Victoria had tinkered with his car behind his back before. And by tinkered, she’d once taken it completely apart in the garage, then put it back together again-flawlessly.
It was after they’d been together for two years, when he’d bought the car and promised to take her and Gwyn on trips together. One time, when McNeil was away on business for a couple of weeks, Victoria got bored, sent the staff home, and spent a few days in the garage, dismantling and reassembling the car piece by piece. McNeil never even noticed.
Now, all they had was a flat tire, and there were tools in the trunk. Plus, there were at least a dozen grown men here. Maybe they weren’t as skilled as Lyndon’s pit crew, but surely between them all, they could muster enough muscle.
“You seriously know how to do this?” McNeil looked skeptical. The Turner family had never been involved in the auto industry, and Victoria was the quintessential heiress-if her family did own a factory, it’s not like she’d be down there working the line.
“No,” she replied, shaking her head. Violet had been watching closely, half- expecting Victoria to reveal some hidden talent. Turns out, she was just as clueless as everyone else.
“Ms. Turner, having a flat is bad enough-don’t make it worse. You can’t just let the men fix everything for you, like you did in that cave,” Violet snapped, her words biting and crude.
Victoria glanced at her, expression unchanged.
“I know how to change a tire. I just don’t have the strength for it. You guys handle
the heavy lifting-I’ll talk you through it.”