“Fucking mind-blowing,” Reese said, shaking her head as if just imagining being in Sloane’s shoes was too much.
“It was. It was fucking mind-blowing,” she said, leaning in with a laugh. It felt surprisingly good to let herself go back there. Not many people in the world could appreciate the magnitude of such a moment, but Reese could. Sloane recognized the same hunger in Reese that she’d experienced on her way up, and in that moment, she wanted nothing more than to help Reese achieve her dream. “Could be you one day if you land a few more P1 finishes. I will admit that your high profile doesn’t hurt. Teams want a driver who will pull in investors. But none of that matters if you can’t score points.”
“I’d give anything.” She tapped the table, something tugging at her. “The academy, however, has put things in perspective.”
“Oh, yeah? In what sense?”
“There are a lot of us, and we’re all talented. If an F1 team pulls up someone from the academy, it could easily be someone else.” She took a drink of her beer.
“Which is why you don’t leave it to chance. You give them every reason to select you.” Sloane took a breath and decided to level with Reese. “You’re a well-known driver, and that works in your favor. You pair that with winning the championship for this season, and it’s a hard combo to turn down, provided they need a driver.” That was the thing about F1: it was a constant game of musical chairs. Two drivers per team, and if all the seats were filled, there’d be no reason to promote from a lower level. Unless she wowed them to the point they couldn’t resist, and Reese Maddox had that wow factor. Sloane had experienced it firsthand.
As they enjoyed their meal, Sloane felt herself loosen considerably. Partly a result of the easy give-and-take she and Reese had when away from the academy, partly the sake and its potent effect.
“So, what’s it like coming from such a well-known family?” Reese asked. “If this feels too much like an interview, just say so, and we can stare into each other’s eyes instead,” she offered a wink to let Sloane know she was kidding, but they both knew only partly.
“Less pressure than you might think. The members of my family are very determined people, but very much focused on their own goals and endeavors. My uncle introduced me to racing because it was his hobby. My parents threw money at it because it kept me busy and out of the way.”
“Not incredibly hands-on then?”
“Let’s just say they weren’t in the stands more than they had to be.”
“Oh,” Reese said. Sloane didn’t blame her. What did one say when you announced that your parents were uninvolved in your childhood and left you to coaches, nannies, and tutors?
“It’s okay. We still exchange Christmas presents. Very expensive ones.”
“We had completely opposite childhoods.”
“Your parents were awesome?”
A pause. “Well, until my dad died. My mom did everything she could to fill his shoes, which makes her an amazing human being. No money though. No childcare, so my brother had to help. The two of them are the only reason I’m here.”
“Wow. That sounds like a lot to take on.” A pause. “I’m sorry about your dad. Was he sick?”
“He died in a street race after a semipro career never took him where he wanted it to, but he introduced me to racing. Put me in my first kart.”
“Oh, Reese. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Reese said with a reassuring smile. “If I were eight, you were probably what, nine?”
“Smooth. Very smooth.” She’d done the math. She was eleven years older than Reese, which meant she’d have been a teenager.
She did, however, remember something in the write-up Veronica had given her about Reese coming from a racing family. How had she missed such a key detail, the kind that could shape a person and their entire career, their outlook from behind the wheel, their risk assumption or lack thereof? Those things contributed.
“I’m sure that still has an impact on you. His legacy and what happened to him.”
“Every day of my life. I don’t start a single race without thinking about him. Hoping that I’m making him proud, wherever he is.”
“He’s withyou,” Sloane said simply. There was no doubt in her mind. “In that car.”
The smile started small but then blossomed into an image Sloane knew she’d never forget. It softened Reese in a way she rarely let the world see, without the bravado she put on like a second fire suit.
“Thanks,” Reese said quietly, eyes lowering to her hands. “Most people don’t know what to say about it. Or they focus on the tragedy part and not everything else.”
“What else?” Sloane asked.
Reese lifted her gaze again, and there was a surprising steadiness there. “He loved racing more than anything. He died doing what he lived for. Do I wish he would have thought of us? Sure. Yes. But I also understand that drive.”
Sloane nodded, understanding the sentiment maybe too well. “There’s honor in that. And courage.”
