I’m not going to touch this conversation with a ten-foot pole. I know my brother has certain…antisocialtendencies. Antisocial is actually a nice way of putting it; more accurate is sociopathic.
Thankfully, Delilah strides up to us at that moment, ignoring the sour look Declan casts at her for approaching the pit wall during race setup. The only peopletechnicallyallowed here are team personnel at the highest level of leadership and race engineers—the only reason Amanda can waltz in is because she’s Frank Sterling’s daughter—but my best friend is a force of nature. Trying to keep her away from somewhere she wants to go is utterly useless.
“I need a favor,” she says without preamble.
I frown. “Right now?”
“Good a time as any.” She reaches into her bag, withdraws athickstack of business cards, and slaps them down on the table crowded with monitors, keyboards, and gear. “I keep getting these from teams. Sift through them and tell me who I should work with.” Her brows furrow. “Correction, who would beinterestingfor me.”
“Now?” I repeat. We’re minutes out from the national anthem being played, and then the formation lap.
Delilah gives me a dead-eyed stare. “I want to accept one of the offers after the race. I have meetings lined up today and tomorrow.”
“Like, you interviewing with teams?” Amanda asks.
“Like,meinterviewingthem,” Delilah responds.
She’s taken the unofficial and unpaid role as not only mine and Asher’s legal counsel, but also our manager. Really, she acts as afixer.She’s the middleman between us and events, photoshoots, brand deals, and most of all,contracts. She didn’t even ask for the role; just stepped up and started taking on responsibilities after the Montreal race. She’s fuckingexcellentat the job.
She told me about a month ago that her strategy was to do such incredible work for us, she’d have offers coming out of her ass to work with teams—despite there being no chance in hell she’ll get a recommendation letter from her previous law firm. Since I’ve benefitted from her strategy, I don’t mind, but it also puts her in a position to request favors like this anytime she wants.
I sigh, picking up the stack. I start going through the cards one by one, discarding them with minor commentary like “fuck no” or “you’d die from boredom.” I stop cold when I see a business card for Cheetah’steam owner, who’s also scribbled a personal message on the back.
Cheetah has one of the best and most problematic drivers in the world: Jasper Hale. He’s been kicking up a massive fuss this season over any and everything. Any other driver would be fired for bad conduct, but he’s too good for Cheetah to risk losing him. Hale is the currentworld champion.
“This one.” I hand Delilah the card. There’s nowayshe’ll be bored with a team as high-powered and filled withconstant issues that need to be fixed like Cheetah. “You’ll have fun breaking him.”
Amanda glances at the card and grimaces. “Is that for Jasper Hale? He’s so insufferable it’s easy to forget he’s gorgeous.” She shakes her head. “Don’t do it. No level of eye-candy is worth dealing with such a stubborn personality.”
“Stubborn?” A slow, evil smile graces Delilah’s lips.“Perfect.”
I spot Ilya making his way from the garage towards the pit wall. That means it’s beyond go-time, and any stragglers need to get out. I make a shooing motion with my hands. “Okay, both of you beat it. It’s race-time.”
Delilah pulls her phone out of her back pocket. “You have a photoshoot for that relationship advice magazine scheduled right before the afterparty, and there’s a reporter asking for an exclusive—”
“Delilah, Amanda,” Ilya greets. “If you two would please make your way to the garage or stands. I’m afraid it’s time for the pit wall to focus up.” His words are polite enough, but his warning look leaves no doubt that they need to moveor else.
Delilah gives me a nod. “Get him on the podium.”
“And Elio too, please,” Amanda says. Both of them flit off.
I get seated and pull up my program. With a staggering investment from Sterling, I’ve been able to turn the raw product into a functional software and make several improvements throughout the season, so it’s much easier to work now.
“P4 and P7 in qualifying,” Ilya murmurs, sitting down beside me. “Chances of a podium in current climate?”
“Thirty percent,” I respond bluntly. I’m under promising so that I canhopefullyoverdeliver, but there’s no guarantee.
“I’ll take it.” Ilya swivels to face Declan, while Elio’s engineer vacates his seat to come up beside me. “Wanted to get your thoughts on a few alterations to today’s strategy.”
I listen for several moments as he outlines a plan, growing more and more dubious by the second. “Elioagreedto that?” I ask when he’s done.
The engineer nods. “He suggested it.”
Holy shit. His relationship with Asher must be progressing even faster than expected.
“I don’t know,” I say after several beats. “It’s a longshot. It doesn’t play to his known advantages. Lots of variables.”
“If it works?”
