Page 126 of Off the Grid

His smile softens. “Now that her child advocacy work is done for the year, she’ll be here more. It’ll be a real family affair.”

“Really?”

“Really.” His smile lights up his face, but when he meets my eyes, he lifts his chin in the direction of the garage. “Thoughts on Riggs thus far? You weren’t keen on me hiring him. It seems you’ve changed your mind.”

“You already asked me this.”

“I know I did. I’m asking you again. It’s the job of this position to reevaluate constantly. Race by race.”

“He’s consistent. Moretti’s placing higher than we did before him. Clearly, he’s fitting in and adjusting. Has he erred some? Yeah—the whole stunt of not listening to Hank in Belgium is one example.”

“But?”

Where is he going with this? My dad rarely asks the same question twice.

“But I think he’s a quick learner. Dedicated to improving. Clean on the track so far. And if we all were judged by our mistakes, then heaven help me.” I snicker. My dad just gives me a look like he doesn’t want to know the crazy things I may or may not have done.

Maybe he’s just rethinking everything with Suzuka coming up soon.

“It seems the two of you are getting close.”

Hmm. Maybe that’s not where he’s going with this.

I fight the urge to look around at the garage. Averting my eyes is a dead giveaway to my dad that something is going on.

“He’s our driver.”

“So is Andrew,” he counters, “but I don’t see you as close with him like you are Riggs.”

Fuck. What is he getting at?

“Andrew doesn’t make himself as readily available as Riggs does. He has his girlfriend and that’s where he prefers to spend his time outside of the track. He does what he’s told but doesn’t care to stick around for the glory. Riggs does. He loves it and the whole campaign we’ve built around him. The campaign that has taken off and benefited Moretti tenfold. So yes, of course, we’ve gotten close. That’s the only way you can be when you’re working with someone day in and day out. Just like I am with Elise. With the rest of my team.”

“That’s a whole lot of explaining for a simple answer.”

Our eyes meet. Hold. And I fear that he can see right through me.

I’m fortunate at that moment that Omar walks over to have a word with my father. I take the chance to escape.

But his comments stay on my mind well after we’ve parted ways. I think of all the things I could have countered with but would have only drawn more attention.

“There you are,” Elise says as she walks to the upper lounge area in our Moretti paddock space. I’m standing in front of the television, watching Rossi’s qualifying lap. He’s going to be placed high on the grid judging by his time.

“Yep. I’m here.” It’s still hard to get used to watching a car on television and then hearing it outside the building we’re in. I walk over to the remote control and turn down the commentators’ voices. “Just working on the Conmigo stuff with the new campaign for Perfection Oil up next. I want to get it done so I can watch our qualifying runs.”

“Where can I step in and help—oohhh,” she says, pointing to my shoes. “Very cute. Like wow.” She looks at the shoes and then back at me. “What’s gotten into you? First the hair. Then the slight changes in your outfits. The sexy shoes.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Love looks good on you.”

I sputter over the sip of water I just took. “What did you just say?”

She levels me with a look that says don’t fuck with me. “There’s only one reason a woman changes up those things. And it’s a man.”

“Not in my world.” I look out the window of my second-story room, and of course Riggs is walking past down below. In some respects, she’s right, but in reverse. I did let one man define what I wore, how I felt about myself. But I did the changing here. I finally had the strength to realize I was letting one insignificant man reign over my psyche.

These changes were for me.