Page 6 of Formula Fling

“Now that’s all settled,” Rosalind says brightly before turning to me. “Good luck, Posey. You’re going to need it. Remember that Ms. Patrick says she’s available to you should any problems arise.”

And here she gives Lex another pointed look. He grins at her.

When Rosalind is gone, Lex’s smile drops.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” he says, his voice low. “I’m not happy about this. I’m here to race, not babysit a journalist.”

I will not be intimidated. Evans spunkiness teed up. “I’m just here to do my job.”

“Your job,” he repeats, eyeing me up and down. “And what exactly is your job? Writing fluffy pieces for people who don’t care about the sport?”

I bristle, my pulse quickening. “I care about sports, specifically FI racing.”

“Right,” he says dismissively, clearly unimpressed and obviously not happy about the arrangement. “Well, I suppose we’ll just have to make this work. But don’t get in my way.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I snap, irritated by his arrogance. “But I’ll remind you that I’m here to learn and you’re in charge of making sure that happens.”

He studies me for a moment longer, then sweeps his hand toward the door I walked through not long ago. “Come on,” he says, his tone flat. “I’ll show you the simulator. You’ll need to understand the basics of what I do here if you’re going to write anything worth reading.”

I follow him down the hall, trying not to let his attitude get under my skin. I’m having a hard time reconciling this stunningly beautiful race car driver with the angel-blessed face and the negative vibes he’s giving off.

We reach a room that looks like something straight out of a sci-fi movie. In the center of the space sits what I can only describe as a high-tech driving rig, complete with a steering wheel, pedals and massive wraparound screens. The whole thing is mounted on a platform that looks like it could move, and everything around it is sleek, shiny and intimidating.

“This,” Lex says, gesturing to the setup with a bit of pride in his voice, “is the simulator.”

I glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “Simulator? You mean like a really fancy video game?”

He smirks, shaking his head. “It’s a bit more advanced than that. This setup mirrors the exact dimensions and controls of Crown Velocity’s actual FI car to give us a completely immersive experience.” He points at the screens. “Those project high-definition images of every track we race on, complete with weather conditions, other cars and real-time race dynamics.”

“Wow,” I say in awe.

Lex smiles sincerely for the first time. “The cockpit is mounted on a hydraulic platform that moves and tilts in response to the virtual track. This simulates the g-forces I would feel when cornering, accelerating or braking in real life. It even mimics the jolts, bumps and vibrations of an actual race.”

“That’s incredible,” I say, pulling out my notepad and jotting down some ideas. “Can I take photos?”

“Sorry. I’m sure they had you sign an NDA, but all of this is top secret information.”

“Understood,” I say, jotting that tidbit down. I turn to face Lex. “But why not just take the car out on a track? I mean, as realistic as this all can get, I’m assuming nothing beats real conditions.”

Lex leans back against the side of the simulator, crossing his arms. “It’s not that simple. For one, there are rules about how much on-track testing we can do. The league limits it to keep things fair and competitive.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Testing the car on an actual track is expensive. Think about it—transporting the car, the team, the equipment, the tires, the fuel… it all adds up. Plus, there’s wear and tear on the car. Every time we push it to the limit, we’re risking damage. Some teamscan afford all that, but others can’t. So limiting time keeps teams more evenly balanced.”

“Okay,” I say, tilting my head as I try to wrap my mind around it. “But you still need to drive the car on a real track at some point, right?”

“Of course,” he replies. “We do real-world testing, but it’s limited. The simulator lets me run as many laps as I need without burning through parts or tires. We can make instant setup changes here. Try different strategies. I can practice in the rain, even if it’s sunny outside, or test a tricky section of a track over and over until I get it right.”

I stare at the machine, starting to understand. “So it’s like practice without the consequences?”

“Exactly,” Lex says, nodding. “No risk of crashing, no blown tires, no damaged car. And we can test setups that we wouldn’t dare try on a real track, just to see what happens.”

I whistle, impressed despite myself. “I had no idea it was this high-tech.”

“Welcome to Formula International,” he says, turning back to the simulator. “You want to give it a go?”

I laugh nervously, holding up my hands. “I think I’ll stick to writing for now.”

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