Shit. She makes me safe in a way that brings out a little bit of the old me. That can’t end well, but it needs to.
“Let’s take a tour, and I’ll check how Jacs is doing with your car.”
I walk her to Senna’s office, pointing out the images on the wall of Coulter Racing Team’s highlights.
“That’s when Senna won in Formula Three. F3 is often where young drivers aspiring for a seat in Formula One gain skills and show what they’re capable of. Connor and Tawny, our current drivers, and I drove in it.”
“I read Senna was a driver.” Rosie studies the image.
“She was the best. Better than me and Connor. But she was in an accident that smashed her hand. She never raced professionally again, although occasionally some of us go to a racetrack and compete for fun. You should come.”
Rosie smiles. “When I’m not working.”
“Best assistant already,” I tease.
“So you were good at racing?”
It’s all I can do not to puff out my chest and give her my stats. “Yeah. Coulter hasn’t always achieved top five because we don’t have the investment other teams have, but Senna’s getting money in, and she’ll make us a contender again.” I point out my trophies in the cabinet outside Senna’soffice. When I nod towards the one I received because of my most significant victory at Silverstone, I catch her staring at me, not the glinting silverware.
I raise my eyebrows with a silent question.
“Sorry,” she explains. “You come alive when you talk about racing. You miss it, don’t you?”
“I miss how it made me feel, the panic that you could spin out on a corner, but using that terror to feed your adrenaline on the next one. I liked the control, too,” I add with a laugh, trying not to remember the power play I enjoyed during sex, too. Shit. I haven’t had sex in eighteen months and probably won’t again if I can’t touch someone.
“If there was a space for you as a main driver right now, would you take it?”
I still, my breath shallow, as I study the trophies with my name. “I’m not ready. I’m obsessed with the logistics and how I could get ill. Would the car be clean enough? What if the person weighing me after a race had a cold, and how can I be sure my helmet is clean? Then there’s the food, hotels, and travel.”
Heat fills my body, and my heart races. I reach into my pocket and stroke the individual beads of the bracelet. My teeth tear at my lips.
She stamps her foot, and I glance at her. “I wanted to get your attention without touching you. I didn’t mean to make you panic. Sorry, Niki.”
I attempt a smile. “It’s okay. I want to race again. One day.”
“I’ll do everything to help you reach it, or manage your team, who’ll try to get you there.”
My pulse slows to its steady rhythm. “Thank you.”
As we cross the threshold of Senna’s office, a voice makes my shoulders hunch. My dad steps out of Senna’s private bathroom. “And I told him, ‘You stay away from my family,Antoinne.’ I’ll be surprised if he gets a seat anywhere now. Niki,” he shouts when he sees me.
He rushes to me for a hug. I tremor. I don’t do hugs anymore.
Rosie dives in front of him. “Mr. Coulter. I saw the team photo from when you were CEO while Niki was giving me a tour of the building. I’m Rosie. Nice to meet you.”
She holds out her hand, and my dad steps back before shaking it aggressively.
Senna raises her eyebrows.
“She said yes,” I say. Senna smiles, and I clarify, “To be my assistant, not my wife.”
Rosie covers her laughter with a cough.
“Welcome to the team,” Senna replies, side-eyeing me.
“Niki, we need to talk business. It’s the first race next week, and I’m worried about the car, especially after testing. Shakedown wasn’t ideal,” Dad snaps.
“You sold us the company. It’s not for you to worry about anymore. Besides, Senna makes the decisions. I’m the reserve driver, and you don’t need to talk business with me.”
