She hesitated before following with a smile. It seemed like more than an offer of friendship, something not extended to a regular employee, but there shouldn’t be any harm. She liked Isaac and was excited that they could hang out for more than book club discussions. Luckily, there had been nothing in the information packet about rules restricting friendship, or even dating, between team members.
The inside of the trailer had been designed like a camp trailer, with a slim foldaway table opposite a sink and a narrow counter with a row of overhead cupboards. Beyond the sitting area, the back opened into a bedroom with a double bed. He could nap while waiting for the next practice. It must be nice tohave a room on wheels, so he didn’t have to go back to the hotel to change or rest.
“Help yourself,” he said, waving to a small fridge under the counter as he retreated down the hall and closed the bedroom door. He soon returned in his team shirt and shorts, making them a matched set. Anna liked the idea, feeling somehow satisfied that their clothes went together. They had a few hours before the next session, and she hadn’t been sure how she would fill her time; read perhaps? Her schedule had said lunch and a three-hour break until the MotoGP riders were once again on the track for FP2.
“Want to watch the Moto3 practice with me after lunch?” Without looking at her, Isaac took a platter with sliced deli meat, chunks of orange, yellow, and white cheese, and chopped vegetables from the fridge. He added two bottles of water and removed two plates from a top cupboard and set them on the table before looking at her. It looked like he wanted her to stay and warmth filled her face.
“Don’t I have to report back to Angel?” She wanted to stay, and not just because the array of food looked appetizing, but she didn’t want to get in trouble.
Isaac raised his eyebrow. “What does your schedule say?”
Her voice was quiet. “That I’m free until FP2.” Butterflies flitted back and forth in her stomach as she met his chocolate-colored eyes. They were a soft brown, more like milk chocolate than dark—friendly compassionate eyes. Isaac had brought enough lunch for two. He’d planned this, and she wanted to stay.
A sliver of guilt stabbed through her. She should probably be writing, but she brushed it aside and sat. Last night, she’d outlined several chapters of the story she planned to write before she’d read. Perhaps there would be time for writing later. If not on the weekend, maybe on the plane or once they returnedto Spain between races. It might be harder to write in her downtime than expected. Still, she would try as it was important.
“How do you like motorcycle racing so far? Any questions?” Isaac grabbed several cubes of cheese. He popped one in his mouth while he waited for her answer.
“What’s with the swerving in pit lane?” She sat across from him at the skinny table on a cushioned bench. Heat flooded her cheeks because her response had been too abrupt and possibly from left field. She hoped she didn’t seem rude.
He allayed her fears when he laughed. “New tires or fresh rubber is slippery. We do that to rough them up before laps. Fewer crashes. What else did you notice?” His tone was warm. Perhaps he was pleased she’d paid attention.
“You seem happy to be in the top ten and Angel mentioned it several times while you were on the track.” She reached for a piece of yellow cheese. “Is the top ten significant?”
“They combine our free practice times. The riders with the ten best times have an advantage and go straight to the second qualifying session.” He hesitated, perhaps to make sure she was following. “That’s Q2 on your schedule late Saturday. Do you know what qualifying is?”
She shook her head. He didn’t seem bothered by teaching her, and with something so new, he shouldn’t expect her to know this yet. Was he always so patient, or just with her?
Isaac continued his explanation. “Q1 is for all the riders who weren’t in the top ten. The two with the best times join the top ten in Q2 to compete for the top twelve positions for the race on Sunday. The fastest rider gets pole position, the position farthest up the grid as an advantage. Second and third also start on the front row, and so on.”
Filing away the new information, she’d be better informed for the rest of the weekend. Since arriving at the track, she’d surprised herself by enjoying everything more than she’dexpected. If a practice was thrilling, a race would leave her breathless.
“Have you ever had pole position?” The question felt odd on her tongue with the new lingo.
He shook his head with his same calm smile. “Not since Moto2. Vince used to get it all the time. Still does on his favorite tracks, like the Sachsenring in Germany and the Circuit of The Americas in Texas.”
She hadn’t asked about Vince, but his conversation often looped back to his brother. Of course, he’d started from the front. “So, your practice position determines your race starting position.” Interesting.
“Are you sure I’m not boring you with this stuff?” Isaac raised one eyebrow.
It was a sexy look, combined with his wide smile and tousled hair.
“I want to learn about racing so I understand what’s happening. Also, so I can be proficient at my job.” Thinking of her primary job and what she would have to wear, her smile faded.
His voice was quieter when he said, “What’s wrong? Do you regret coming?”
She shook her head. How to explain? She didn’t want to cause a problem, but she wasn’t sure she could deal with this. All of it was beyond her comfort zone, but she was trying.
“No, I mean it,” Isaac said, his voice soothing. “You can tell me. I won’t judge or get you in trouble. I might even be able to help.”
Tears pricked her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. “I don’t think I can wear the tight crop top and miniskirt on the grid.” There, she’d blurted the words. “It’s even smaller than I imagined.” She swallowed, her face burning as she stared out thewindow instead of meeting his gaze. “I came here as an umbrella girl, and that’s the part I’m scared of. Everything else is terrific.”
“So, don’t wear it. Wear your team clothes, like now. You should have a few sets. It won’t bother me.” He shrugged and snagged another piece of carrot that crunched loudly in the now quiet trailer. In the distance, the buzzing sounds of bikes on the track became more apparent.
“Won’t I get in trouble?” Her voice trailed off as she swallowed. Her throat tightened. She didn’t like to do things wrong.
“I bet Catarina has a tip or two that could help dress this up or keep this shirt and wear a longer skirt. As long as you have team colors, you’re fine. She might even have one you can borrow.” He hesitated. “You’ll be beautiful no matter what you wear.”
Tears threatened again with the compliment, but she fought them back. It had been a long time since she’d felt noticed. He’d called her beautiful. The happiness those words created washed over her, and her shoulders loosened as he continued.
