“It’s harder for me than it is for you,” I say quietly. “We’re—”
“Asher. Victoria.” I look up at Elio’s voice. I’ve been so entrenched in conversation with Asher, I didn’t see him approaching the table.I hope he was far enough away not to hear anything.
“Elio,” Asher hisses, twisting in his seat to face the first driver. “What do you want?”
Elio looks between Asher and me, slowly and deliberately. “Victoria, I was wondering if you’d be available to help me run some simulations this afternoon.” His smile isn’t kind. “It’s not fair that Asher’s getting all the help, now, is it?”
I stiffen. “Actually—”
“Declan already approved it,” Elio says. “It’ll just be for an hour or two. I’d deeply appreciate your help.”
I look at Asher—tendons and veins bulging in his neck, side profile brick-hard, fist curled around the edge of the table. I want to say no, and Ishouldbe able to say no.
“I’m technically assigned to the second driver and car,” I point out.
“Yourfocusis on the second driver, but you can move between teams.” Elio’s tone is firm. “Two o’clock in sim control, please.”
“Er…”
“I’ll see you then.” He strolls away.
Asher turns to face me, betrayal stamped on every feature in his face.
“If you don’t want me to, I won’t show up,” I say immediately. “I supportyou.I wantyouto succeed. I’m onyourteam. I don’t hate Elio, but I’m not a fan of his, either.” He strikes me as a wannabee and a sellout, and I’ll never forget that time on the plane when he drank, insulted Asher, and insulted me. I’m sure there’s more to Elio than what meets the eye, but I’m also not interested in finding out what it is.
Asher’s features soften. He releases a long sigh. “No, you should go. Just… don’t leave my team for his.” His brows pinch. “I don’t know how I’d cope with that.”
My eyes sting at the raw vulnerability beneath his words. He’s been left behind by people all his life—his parents, his grandparents. Maybe even his brother.
I’m determined not to make it on that list of people. “I won’t,” I promise. “I’m on your team. I want to helpyouonto the podium.” I slide my leg farther beneath the table,until my foot bumps his. “Let’s talk later about the other stuff?”
Asher nods curtly. “Later.”
Elio has me set up his simulation to the last race. His performance was, once again, extremely underwhelming. It’s almost like Asher’s rise has caused him to fall to the back of the pack.
In stark contrast to Asher, he listens to the suggestions I give him and executes them without question. He’s a solid driver, but he’s a bit… reckless. Unpracticed. He’s only been on the circuit for two seasons, and while he has some raw talent, he doesn’t have enoughdiscipline.
I don’t know when my dislike of Elio started. I don’t know if there was a differentiatingbeforeandafterpoint. I remember being at least a bit dazzled by him when I first saw him, but that was shortly tempered when I realized just how…showyhe is, and how he can kind of be a prick when he wants. He seems to live for the sponsors and flash of a camera, which is just a touch disingenuous for my taste. I prefer people who are raw and real, even if that realness means embracing their inner jerk—within limits.
I prefer Asher. I think I always have, even when he was trying his best to get me fired. At least he’sreal.
I have to admit, though, I admire Elio’s determination, capability to listen, and hard work. While he’s in thesim, I start to pull up the strategies he’s been assigned during races this season on the side… and that’s when understanding clicks.
His engineer advises him based on strategies that the top-performing teams are using. Theoretically, a strategy with proven success is good to follow, but in all practicality, it’s flawed. Elio doesn’t have the same car as other teams. He doesn’t have the same skillset that other drivers do.
It’s cruel to even think it, but I have to wonder how the hell Gaston has survived until now. Probably through sheer luck and perseverance. They need a complete overhaul on how they manage drivers.
Elio steps out of the sim suite, looking a mixture of frustrated and dejected. I’ve been reading him in on his numbers and speeds throughout the last hour. He hasn’t seen any notable improvement, but that’s probably because I was modeling my suggestions based on his previous strategy. I made assumptions regarding his capabilities based on what he’s been doing so far, which was the wrong approach.
He needs a plan and suggestions tailored to him and his car, not one ripped off from the top performers.
“I finished in the same rank.” He frowns. “Howis that possible? I’m better than the worst in F1.”
You just have shittier strategy.
I eye my computer for a moment, gaze at the ceiling, and sigh. I guess now’s as good a time as any to test the capabilities of my algorithm.
I navigate over to Elio’s profile within my system—one that’s been built based on the heaps of data ingested by the algorithm. I don’t have time to study his prior performances and try to discern his strengths and weaknesses, butit’salready done so automatically, and I can access a page that will list all of his best and worst-performing maneuvers. That should give me a solid basis to build on.
