“This is Red Boar’s hospitality,” Julien says, in case he hadn’t noticed.
“Yep.” At the top of the short staircase, Rafael holds the door open, and Julien takes a hesitant step inside.
The noise of the room quiets as everyone notes the intruders. Though both of them are wearing Ferraro red, most of the surprised stares stay trained on Julien specifically.
He picks Fritz and Sam out of the crowd. The familiar faces stand out in stark contrast to the sea of strangers. One studies him with curiosity, the other with something close to rage.
“This way.” Rafael tugs Julien’s arm towards the back of the building. They wander past the food area and bathrooms, through to a glass-walled meeting room.
The table inside is long enough to fit twelve people, but only one man sits at the head of it. He picks at his food while shifting through paperwork.
“That’s Adam Stone.” The team principal of Red Boar. He eats? It's weird to imagine him doing something so human.
“Yeah, he’s a family friend.” Rafael knocks lightly before opening the door.
Adam looks up and his expression snaps from annoyance to surprise. “Rafael! Jesus, I was eating.” Though he’s talking to the Brazilian driver, his eyes drift to Julien.
“I wanted you two to meet before Sven got a hold of him.”
“Atta boy.” Adam stands and smiles. It’s sharp—shark-like. “Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Dubois.”
“Julien, please.” He stumbles to grasp the man's proffered hand. “I didn’t know you and Rafael knew each other.”
“I raced with his father. We go way back.” With a sweeping motion, Adam gestures to the table. “Please, sit. Make yourself comfortable. Do you have a hard stop?”
Rafael falls into a chair and answers, “Nah” the same time Julien says, “I’ve got a bus to catch in about forty minutes.”
“Abus?!”Adam repeats. “What are they doing to you over there?”
“Not the public—it’s theteambus.”
“You can catch a ride with me back to the hotel,” Rafael says.
“It’s for the airport. I fly out in a couple of hours.”
Both men study him with furrowed brows. They can probably tell Julien hasn’t showered since the podium. Or the race. He can’t imagine how he smells right now.
Bad news for whoever gets stuck in the seat next to him.
“We can make this quick,” Adam decides. “Your manager isn’t here, so we can’t talk specifics, but we’d love to see you at VFIBR next year.”
Wait, what?! “But I wasn’t a Red Boar Junior.”
“We can make exceptions.” Adam flashes his sharky smile again. Rows of unnaturally white teeth. “We can’t let a talent like yours fester at some bottom team. At VFIBR, you’ll have a direct line back to the front of the grid. I don’t imagine it’ll be very long before you make that jump.”
“You don’t?”
With only two drivers on every team, it’s not difficult to put one and one together. Fritz won a bunch of races this year. Sam, on the other hand…
“Julien was the person who figured out my braking issue.” Rafael braces his elbow on the table and leans forward with enthusiasm. “He hasn’t driven my car for over a month, but he remembered it well enough to diagnose the problem.”
“Verynice.” Despite how sarcastic he sounds, Adam does look a little impressed. “I mean, a member of our team noticed it in Monaco. Still, it’s useful when the drivers can articulate what they feel while driving.”
“Ialsonoticed it in Monaco.” Julien just couldn’t convince anyone that he was worth listening to.
Rafael flinches. “That was my fault.”
Adam clicks his teeth and slowly shakes his head. “You’re sostrong-headed—just like your father. You need to learn how to listen to your team or we’re going to keep taking advantage of your weaknesses.”
