He gasps, straightening and looking at her with the most boyish innocence that he can manage. "Well well, Ms Les, aren't you just so downright wild to say such things," he teases, breaking into a wide, boyish grin to match that look on his face.

"Then you know that all I will ever agree to is barely legal," he says with a wink. "Rule number one. Never admit to anything. You always have to make them prove it. Whether it's cops or strangers," he says, which is a slight but not an insult. He doesn't know her, but he also obviously doesn't think she's a threat.

He nods at that, liking her assessment. "You see it a lot that most look at the engine, but there's other signs that tell you more about their style, about the way they'll drive in a race. It'll give you the win more than looking at the engine. Hell, it'll give you a better advantage than even a better car."