Fritz waves as they pass his table, catching Julien’s attention. The German driver points to his sponsor watch, himself, and the table before giving Julien a thumbs up. All the while, the bald man he’s sitting next to regards his hand miming with interest.
“What was that?” Rafael asks.
“I think he’ll wait there for me after the meeting.” Then again, Julien isn’t fluent in German. Maybe he means something completely different.
“Never thought of him as the gossip type.”
“I think we might be friends?” It’s hard to tell on the grid sometimes.
Outside the glass meeting room, Rafael kisses Julien on the temple and wishes him luck. After one last pointed look at Adam, he leaves.
Julien freezes in horror, but Adam just rolls his eyes. “One day I’ll hire someone who isn’t fucking a Ferraro driver.” With a sharp tug, he opens the door and heads inside.
“I’m sure we’ve all had a long day, so let’s cut to the chase. At VFIBR, you’ll have a straight shot to the main team. If you race for Red Boar and struggle, VFIBR provides a safety net, so you’re not immediately unemployed.”
Yeesh.
Adam’s already planning for Julien to fail. That’s reassuring.
“Red Boar wins championships. We’re already on track to win the Constructors’ Championship again this year.”
That’s a bit misleading. Red Boar might be ahead for now, but the gap closes exponentially with each race now that Rafael is back to fighting at the front.
This must be the speech he gives to their sponsors.
“It’s all very impressive, Mr. Stone.” Pete doesn’t sound all that impressed. “What is the offer you have prepared for my client?”
“The first contract will be with VFIBR for two years. Of course, we could always review said contract if you prove to be Red Boar material early. Something tells me you will.” Adam winks and it sends a chill down Julien’s spine.
Pete writes the contract length in his notes with an asterisk about VFIBR’s connection to Red Boar. “And for compensation?”
“We like to lead with our final offer.” Adam stares at Julien, his mouth pulled up with excitement, when he announces, “Fivemillioneuros a year.”
“Alright.” Pete jots the figure down next to the previous note. “Any win or podium bonuses?”
Adam’s face falls. “‘Alright’?I know the market for rookie drivers.”
“It’s a very competitive rate, Mr. Stone. Are there any other bonuses we should take into consideration?”
Adam ignores him and continues staring at Julien. “It’s not Mercenary, not McLean.” Adam has such sharp, judgy eyes. “Who else could afford it? Ferraro wouldn’t?—”
“Mr. Stone, it’s tacky to discuss offers from other teams,” Pete says, earning his percentage. “If Red Boar is leading with their best and final, then that’s that.”
Craig steps in and covers the incentives and future plans but, for the most part, it’s the connection to Red Boar that remains VFIBR’s best selling point.
“Thank you very much, Mr. Stone, Mr. Burke.” Pete is the first to stand, and he leans over to shake their hands.
Adam still looks a little lost, but he dutifully shakes hands. To Julien, he says, “I’ve also asked Fritz to hang around for a bit. He can give you some insight into the company from a driver’s perspective.”
“Oh, thanks.” That makes more sense than gossiping, at least.
As Pete and Julien trudge down the long hallway, the American groans. “That was a lot for one day. Any chance you know which team you’d prefer?”
“I thought it’d be VFIBR, but—” Julien doesn’t even know how to finish the sentence.
“That Adam guy is a real piece of work.” Yeah, that basically sums it up. “It’s entirely up to you, but I’d encourage you to consider Ashton Marvin.”
“Yeah.” That’s Julien’s gut feeling too.
