‘Fuck!’ he yelled. In pain. In frustration. In anger at her and himself. He didn’t want to miss her. She’d hurt him. Made him believe that he didn’t have to be alone anymore. Made him believe that he had found someone who understood him. He’d been starting to think that she loved him and he’d been willing to be patient with her. To let her come to the realisation on her own. To let her decide if she wanted to take a chance on him, because now he realised that he’d been willing to do the same.
For a smart man he was very stupid.
He should never have let down his guard with a journalist.
He walked across the room and retrieved the ring, which had rolled under some furniture. It was a simple, antique fede ring. A ring for friendship. Well, the media certainly wasn’t his friend. Katherine’s article was proof of that.
But would she have written those things if she had known you?
There was no way to know.
He wasn’t aware of any other driver who’d had a journalist force their way into their life like this, just to get more information. More clout. But he’d also never embraced the media like the other drivers had. A decision he could now see made him more enigmatic and fed people’s desperate desire to know more, made photographers and journalists more hungry for a picture or a story.
As long as he was a driver, nothing would change. Maybehewould have to—maybe he needed to give a bit of himself to the public to satisfy them in order to have the privacy he craved. He didn’t know if he could change that much.
Lukas dropped the ring into his pyjama pants pocket and walked out shirtless onto the high terrace. The cold took his breath away, but it was nice to have the physical discomfort. At least it lessened the urgency of his emotional upheaval.
He looked out at the streets of Monaco. In a few months he could be racing along them. The thought didn’t fill him with happiness.
Is driving what you’re really passionate about?
He loved racing but, no, driving wasn’t making him happy anymore. He had more days filled with frustration and anxiety than exhilaration. He wanted to win championships. He was going to make no difference in a back-marker team. The only reason he wanted to stay on the grid was to make his family’s sacrifices worth something. So that he wasn’t just the selfish ass who robbed his parents of a good life together. But was that enough of a reason to keep racing? Was that a healthy reason?
He examined all the decisions he had made recently. This obsession with driving had made him ignore his principles. He’d agreed to pretend to date someone. He hadn’t dated in three years and then only did so to deceive the world. Regardless of what Katherine had done to him or what he felt for her, he’d used her.
This wasn’t the man he was.
He was honest. He had integrity. He couldn’t let this quest for a drive change him.
But he didn’t have to drive to remain in the sport.
You have so much knowledge…such an understanding of the car and the craft that even from a technical aspect you could make a difference.
Lukas leaned his elbows on the glass balustrade, the cold wind ruffling his hair. It hurt to think about Katherine, but a sense of peace settled on him as he thought about the team principal position that he hadn’t yet turned down.
Katherine had been right about so much that night at dinner. And about one thing in that heinous article: He did have a wealth of knowledge. He could develop a team. He would have the power to make a difference. To influence decisions. To ensure that the right talent was in the seat without screwing over entire careers. He could make the team what he wanted it to be. He could take all that interest in his name, in him and make it work for the team. For him. There would be a lot of media attention as a team principal but nowhere near as bad as being the star of the team. It was a massive responsibility but without the lens of desperation of wanting to remain a racer, he realised that maybe leading a team was exactly where he should be.
He went back inside and retrieved his phone from the couch, then dialled a number he never thought he would actually use.
‘It’s Lukas Jäger. I’m accepting your offer of team principal.’
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The track wasa hive of activity. Thousands of fans streamed in a continuous line, wearing sunglasses and hats to protect them from the bright Australian mid-March sun. High-powered engines revved until they were practically screaming before being taken to a low growl. Quick short whines of wheel guns punctuated the air.
The first race weekend of the season.
It was only Thursday but that didn’t mean that they were in for a quiet day. Drivers were being interviewed in fan zones, support races had practice and qualifying sessions, new drivers had to receive camera time, inserts were being filmed, and drivers and team principals had to hold press conferences.
Team principals like Lukas.
The man she had lost her heart to, the man she had hurt, who wouldn’t take her calls or answer her messages. Katherine had tried for weeks before she’d been forced to give up. Every time she’d reached out and he’d rejected her, she’d felt a stab through her heart.
Give him time, Kittykat,her father had said.Just don’t give up.
But she had to. She’d lost him.
She was on her way back to the Aero broadcast area when she saw Lukas talking to a group of journalists, most of them from European publications. Lukas talking to the media wasn’t unusual. He’s always had contractual obligations to fulfil. But Lukas in a grey-and-gold-collared team shirt talking to the media with a smile was.
