‘You know what I mean. He’s pretty rigid about it. His best friend died?—’
‘I know who Luca Zanetti was, Mins.’
‘Oh, well, he was devastated by Luca’s death, and I also think it has something to do with him not having a great home life. I mean, I get it, but?—’
‘But you’ve been seeing each other since May,’ she finishes. Not where I was going but whatever.
‘It’s casual, though,’ I add, hoping I come across more certain than I feel.
She pours milk in my coffee. ‘Is he sleeping with other people?’
‘No.’
‘And you know that for a fact?’
‘I think so. We stay together every race weekend, and we FaceTime most evenings we’re apart.’
She slides me a withering look. ‘Minnie.’
‘But I’m probably going to find work here, so it’s not like I’ll be travelling with him all the time. It’ll probably just… fizzle out.’ That sounds significantly more cavalier than the knife dragging around my stomach.
Mum eyes me carefully in that specific mum way. ‘I don’t get the youth anymore, I’m too damn old, but I do getyou. You usually can’t stomach more than two dates. You get icked out by everything. You haven’t spent more than six weeks with one man in your whole twenty-five years. The fact that you’ve managed to keep this arrangement going sinceMayspeaks volumes. I’m not the only one who thinks this is special, chick. You’re not affiliated with F1 anymore, so I say go for it. But what do I know?’ She passes me a mug and turns to get the biscuits.
Chapter 48
JACK
LAS VEGAS
I’m starting fourth. I’m not sure how it happened, we just couldn’t get it together in quali. I think the pressure’s affecting the whole team, but I have to let it go. What matters is the competitors around me, the car beneath me, and the next two hours. If I nail this, I can bag the Championship next week in Qatar. If I don’t, it’s lost. All those late nights and annoying infinitesimal tweaks and testing testing testing – for nothing. For Christophe Blanchet to stand on that podium in Abu Dhabi. I won’t let it happen.
The starting grid’s a state. Eilo P1, Tiago P2, Kurtis P3, me P4 and Étienne P5. That first corner’s going to be a dog fight with me, Étienne and Tom all trying to push through. The Acklands and RaceXs don’t have as much to lose as the three of us. We’ll look for safe overtakes, be cautious around traffic, and avoid unnecessary risks. They’ll do the opposite: gamble to score as many points as possible, and maybe even try to impress for future drives. I need, need,needto rule them out quickly.
The sold-out crowd roars as the red lights switch on one by one. The Strip and cheerleaders and DJs and celebrities and $25,000 hospitality packages fall away. I have a job to do.
10pm on the dot, and it’s lights out and away we go.
I accelerate hard, quickly coming wheel-to-wheel with Tiago up the straight. If there’s one thing I like, it’s an inside line to a tight first corner, and I get it. I scoot around Turn 1, steering clear of the traffic, and slink into second. A textbook start. Young racers should study that shit.
I pick up the throttle to chase down Eilo. By lap three, I’m close enough to overtake. I dart around his outside but he covers. He’s not making the same mistake he made at Silverstone. Fair play.
We hit the longest straight side-by-side. I try to nudge ahead but he’s too quick. Ackland want to be third in the Championship, and he’s their best bet. We reach Turn 14 and I try for his inside but don’t manage. I’d have to brake too hard and can’t chance locking up and skidding into a DNF.
‘Étienne’s two point seven behind you,’ says my race engineer.
Fuck.I’ve been wasting so much time with these failed overtakes, Étienne’s been creeping forward like a carbon fibre snake. I have to go full-send or I’ll wind up in third.
I try to slow my breathing as I tow behind The Green Finn through a series of corners. Steady, Jack. Concentrate. Think of your next move.
When we reach the straight, it’s go time. I will overtake this Ackland if it’s the last thing I do. With the help of DRS, I gun down Eilo’s inside. Turn 5 in the distance is a sharp right-hander followed by an immediate series of left-handers. He’ll naively set himself up for Turn 5, but I’m setting myself up for 6, 7, 8 and 9.
I narrowly pass him on the straight, but we go wheel-to-wheel around Turn 5. I muscle him away from the optimal racing line around 6, and by 9, I’m leading the Las Vegas Grand Prix. I let out a long breath. Thank fuck for that.
Now to widen the gap.
Eight laps later, my radio sounds again. ‘Étienne running P2. Two point four.’
Sure enough, there’s a Martinelli in my mirror. Shit shit shit. My tyres are spent; I went too hard attacking Eilo. I don’t know how much of a fight I can put up, but Ican’tlet him overtake. I’m normally much better with tyre management. All this pressure’s clouding my head.
