Mack was halfway out the door when she thought to ask, “You never said why you moved to Indy.”
Laurie balked and bit down her lip, something she never did. Mack was all fidget and motion, but Laurie was icy reserve. Several breaths passed while she considered her words.
“DC is expensive, the firms are extremely cutthroat, and I’m tired of dating the same type of NGO girls. It was time for a change.”
Mack paused, guessing there was more to the answer but Laurie looked exhausted, her face smeared with makeup and tears, and Mack was ready for some lightness after all the dark they’d hashed out. She let Laurie off the hook.
“Lucky for me you did.”
Indianapolis Courier-Journal
May 15
Indianapolis 500 Qualifying: How, When, Why
The Indy 500 is jam-packed with events and traditions, but it all starts with qualification weekend. Qualification takes place one week before The Greatest Spectacle in Racing. This year, the number of cars attempting to qualify (35) is greater than available spots in the field (33), meaning at least two drivers will be “bumped” from the field. (Why 33? Tradition, baby!)
For the uninitiated, below are some qualification-week terms and timelines:
Pole Position: The fastest car to qualify.
Bubble:A car in 33rd position during qualifying, vulnerable to being eliminated from the final field.
Bump:When a car is pushed out of the race grid because another car qualified with a faster speed. A bumped car may reattempt qualification if time remains; if not, that car is permanently eliminated from the Indy 500.
Friday:Final day of practice, often called Fast Friday. Often a good indicator of how cars will place—or not—the following day.
Saturday:First day of qualifying. Each car runs five total laps per attempt: a single warm-up lap, then four qualification laps. A car’s posted speed is the average of the four qualification laps.
Sunday:Also known as “Bump Day.” Any driver who failed to qualify on day one can make an attempt. If the “bubble” driver is bumped from the field, the bumped car may take another qualification run. On this day, cars may line up in one of two lanes. A car in the “fast” lane has priority to take to the track, but will lose their previous qualification time. Cars in the slow lane must wait for cars in the fast lane, but keep any prior lap time. When the horn sounds at 6 p.m. on Sunday, each driver is locked into their qualifying position and the Indianapolis 500 field is set.
As a reminder of how competitive and fast these cars are, the actual speed difference between the pole sitter and final qualifier last year was only three seconds.
Chapter 22
9 days until the Indianapolis 500
Mack stood outside one of Indianapolis’s most renowned establishments, certain Leo had either given her the wrong location or was pulling a rookie prank. He’d said they wouldn’t be out late, but this was certainly not a place where patrons popped in for a quick minute. The famous neon sign buzzed as she squinted through the dark windows, looking for Leo. Behind her, a valet discreetly cleared his throat. Before he could tell her to leave, she yanked open the heavy door.
St. Elmo Steak House was a Midwestern institution, known for backroom deals, celebrity appearances, tender steaks, and fine wines. The year Mack attended her first Indy 500, when she was younger even than Shaw, Wes had driven past the famous restaurant on their way home. She and Laurie had begged to go inside to look for sports stars, but Wes had ranted that they could get the entire McDonald’s menu for less than the cost of one steak at St. Elmo.
The interior of the restaurant was every bit as plush as she’d ever imagined, the dim lighting making the dark wood and brass-studded leather finishes look even deeper and more luxurious. The tigerwood back bar stretched to the ceiling, flanked by thick columns with carved wood flourishes, and the wall-length mirror reflected hundreds of bottles of expensive booze. Every seat at the bar was occupied and all the tables were packed.
Mack flexed her toes inside her sneakers and rubbed her arms on the polyester of her blazer, certain her cheapness stood out.
“Rookie! You made it!”
At the far end of the bar, tucked near the open-concept kitchen, Jericho, Boomer, and Leo sat in a row, waving her over like she was a good friend they’d been waiting for. Boomer had shaved the scraggly ginger scruff that usually dotted his cheeks, and Leo’s long hair was carefully tucked behind his ears. Jericho tapped the empty stool between himself and Leo. They all wore dark suits, all obviously expensive, like a row of Wall Street bankers. “I had to fight off a very unhappy, very important Man in a Suit for this seat, so sit your ass down and give the bartender your order. Nice blazer.”
Billie had gifted her the jacket, and Mack refused to admit that she loved the giant silver bedazzled “11” on the back. She slid onto a wide leather barstool. “I thought this was a no-drinking kind of night.”
Boomer flipped his gaze between Leo and Jericho. “You didn’t tell her?”
Leo shrugged, but his dark eyes glinted with mischief. “The tradition is a surprise for the rookies.”
“A tradition that helped me win last year,” Jericho boasted, his finger pointing down the bar. He called out loudly, “Right, Craig? We’re ready! Bottoms up!”
Mack opened her mouth to protest—she’d been dead serious when she’d told Laurie that she wouldn’t let anything get between her and the Indy 500—but Leo waved her off with his snaggletooth smile. “It’s not booze. We’re clowns but we’d never sabotage the race,” he promised.
