“You still own nearly a quarter, and I’m allowed to ask these questions because I’m a knowledgeable third party who cares about the team,” he pushes.
I clear my throat. “Shakedown was fine.” Senna glances at me, and my face drops. I was anything but fine at Shakedown. “The car performed well, but it’s Senna you need to talk to.”
Senna sits in what was my dad’s desk when he owned the team. When he was in charge, it was covered with screwed-up paperwork. Now it has family and team photos, a stress toy shaped like a cat, and the Lambo Connor showed us earlier. “Dad, does Mum know you’re here?”
“No, and you can’t tell her. She’ll worry about my health.”
I roll my eyes and catch Rosie’s stare.
What’s shakedown?she mouths.
I direct her towards the window. “Look at this view, Rosie.” As we stare at the paths that lead towards the car park, I whisper, “Every year, each team runs the car around a track for the first time to ensure it’s okay. We’re not allowed to test the car on a track before then, so it’s the first time our drivers experience it after we’ve spent the winter improving it. Ours went well, but I panicked because of germs and other things.”
“Will you tell me about it so we can pre-empt it and reduce the likelihood of that happening again?” I nod. “And I’ll learn all these terms. I didn’t want your dad to think I’m a fool. He already believes I’m a weirdo after I stopped him from hugging you.”
“Thank you for doing that. It meant everything.”
“Niki, are you listening?” my dad bellows.
I turn and fake a smile. “No, I was continuing my tour.”
“We need to chat about the first race,” Senna says apologetically.
Rosie fiddles with her waistband, drawing my attention to her hips. Heat flushes my belly.
“I’ll go,” she stutters, “but I need to work out how to get home.” She doesn’t meet my gaze.
“Ask Jimmy to organise a car home for you. I’ll chat with Jacs about yours and have your new car sent to you tomorrow. Is that okay?”
She stares. “You don’t need?—"
“My assistant needs a reliable car. Besides, you can’t be breaking down in the car park of an F1 team. How does that look?” I wink, and she smiles gratefully.
“See you Monday.”
She’s barely reached the door when my dad says, “She’s too young for you, and Clara asked after you. You can’t go from a model to an assistant.”
I rush to the door to close it, but it’s too late. Rosie’s wide-eyed stare tells me everything. “I don’t want to date my assistant,” I snap as I close the door.
Senna smirks.
“Don’t smirk at me, Senna. I’ll throw your Barbies down the toilet.”
“The last time you did, I started karting and beat your ass. Be careful about challenging me.”
Dad shakes his head. “Your assistant’s a bit personal. She was desperate to shake my hand. I’m happily married and not about to die and give some eighteen-year-old all my money. I presume she’s left school.”
“For fuck’s sake, Dad. She’s a knowledgeable and professional assistant. She has a background in sports and psychology. She doesn’t want your money.” My dad holds up his palms. “Or mine. Everything I’ve seen so far shows she’ll be a great addition to the team.”
“And what have you seen so far?” he asks with a pointed stare. “Clara is as stunning as she was when you dated her, and she wouldn’t want your money. She has plenty. You were happy before the accident. If you dated her, you’d be like you were before.”
I raise my voice. “I’m not discussing my ex-girlfriend or other women with you. You came to discuss the car. What’s wrong with it?”
Dad sits in an office chair with a huff as Senna explains, “It’s not the car. It’s Tawny. She’s never started the season in F1 because she joined in the middle of last year’s season. She’d benefit from your experience, especially as you often won in Australia. And she was anxious during testing last week. Will you sit with her on the simulator and help her confidence?”
“Sure. Is she around today?”
“Yeah. I’ll arrange for you to meet with her later,” Senna says.
