“I’ve increased the cooling vents, and we’ve maximized the downforce as much as we can.”
“Thanks,” I say, giving him the thumbs-up.
“It’s going to feel like Monza, Matt, despite the altitude.”
“I wish,” I say, grinning.Monza was my very last podium finish for Rossini.
“This car isn’t the shit heap I thought it was,” Jasper says, pulling out his tobacco pouch and looking around to make sure no one is listening.“The coming upgrades are sound.Team is good.I’ve been through all of it.Chloe knows her shit.There’s somenowstuff we could get wrapped up in, but she wants to look long-term.Smart.”
“She’s a total fucking rock star,” I say, staring into mymirror again to see if I can spot her.“Just really great to have a team principal who is still on the floor.”
I see one of the pit crew smirking as Chloe’s talking to him and feel an almost instant rage at the thought of him undermining her.
“Mate?”I call out.The crew member, a buff twentysomething with an unearned swagger, flicks his hair back, and tries not to look concerned at being caught out.
“What is it, Matt?”
“How about you give Chloe the respect she’s fucking earned?”
Jasper raises an eyebrow at me, and then I hear the crackle in my earpiece and realize my radio has been live.
“I wasn’t laughing at Chloe,” he says, holding both his hands up.“It wasn’t that.”
Jasper leans in and switches off my mic.
“Maybe don’t be so fast, and um, passionate in your defense of the boss,” he says, nodding toward Chloe.“Don’t want the others to get the wrong idea.”Then he winks, putting the rolled-up cigarette between his lips.
I feel suddenly sick.“Shit,” I murmur.I must be careful here, because it’s one thing to fancy Chloe in secret and quite another thing altogether to have anyone find out.That’s what Chloe is most nervous about, and I have to honor that.“Thanks, Jasper.”
He chuckles like he’s seen it all.Then he pushes himself up, using the halo as a brace as he wobbles unsteadily.“I’m too old for this shit.”
I pat him on the forearm with my gloved hand.“Just give us a season, hey?”
“Good fucking luck, Matt.I always liked you.You puffed-up,arrogant piece of shit,” he says, before he walks off cackle-coughing.
I take a deep breath and turn the radio back on.
“Hi, Archie,” I say into my mic.
“Well, that was embarrassing,” he says teasingly.
“Fuck off,” I retort.
“You ready to get to the second qualifying round?”he says.
“I’m going to try,” I reply, watching the two Rossinis slide out of the pit lane ahead of me.I feel the nerves churning inside of me, but then, suddenly, I feel a little spark.Not a heat—not that deep fire—but something.Something coming.
I picture Chloe next to Archie on that pit wall, and I take another deep breath.
“Let’s do this,” I say, rolling out of the garage and joining the queue.
The Autodromo Hermanos Rodriguez is an old track, the original version built in 1959, with the first ever win here by a British Formula 1 driver.I’ve won here before too, a couple of years back.
I’ve always loved this track.The altitude brings with it some serious technical decisions, affecting the downforce and the grip level.While the track itself has changed a lot over the years, losing some of its most thrilling and dangerous corners, it still has one of the longest straights of any circuit, and with that comes plenty of chances to overtake.
The grandstand is packed, Mexican flags waving insupport of Red Bull’s Sergio Perez, racing on his home turf today.Nothing for Arden that I can see.
I drive slowly out of the pit, pushing Chloe to the back of my mind as I try to focus on the lap ahead.One slow warm-up lap and then I need to drive my fucking heart out.Hopefully I can make it on to the second round of qualifying.
