Page 1 of Formula Chance

CHAPTER 1

Nash

The roar ofthe engine still echoes in my head as I pull myself out of the race car, only to be replaced by the raucous cheers from over a quarter of a million fans. I’m soaked in sweat and gritty with grime but completely energized as I climb to the top of my car and hold up my arms in victory. I didn’t think it could get any louder but the chants of “Nash, Nash, Nash!” boom all around me.

I’ve just won the first race of the season in the Open-Wheel Championship series, on the most famous motor speedway track in the world. Indianapolis hasn’t always been good to me, which means this first-place podium is extra sweet.

The team is already celebrating behind me—pit crew, engineers, strategists—their smiles wide and waiting for me to join them. The tension that locks up my body during the race eases, but the adrenaline is still peaking. This is what I live for.

After I jump down off the car, I’m handed a bottle of ice water and I take a long gulp, trying to catch my breath. Driving an open-wheel race car at more than two hundred miles an hour on average for almost two and a half hours will get anyone’s pulse pumping. But it’s not just speed and victory that has my heart hammering. I have to acknowledge it’s still the fear that resides deep in my belly, and I don’t think that will ever go away.

Regardless, I think I’ve proven that I belong here.

A reporter approaches, microphone in hand, eager to capture the moment.

“Nash, that was an incredible race,” he says, grinning at me. “After last season’s domination in the OWC series, you’ve picked up right where you left off. What’s it like to come back and show everyone you still have it?”

I wipe my brow, my eyes scanning the crowd before coming back to him. “Feels damn good, honestly. Last season was a real breakthrough for me, and I’ve put in the work to stay at that level. But every season’s different. Every race is a new challenge. Today was a great start, but I’m not letting up. I’m focused on the long game.”

“Your performance last year in the OWC was nearly flawless,” the reporter presses. “You ended up as the series champion, and you were a consistent threat at every race. With a new season, the pressure’s on. Can you keep up that kind of dominance again this year? What’s the mindset heading into these races?”

Scratching my chin, I give a slight shrug of humility. “I mean… I’m always going to aim for the top, but I know it will be a fight. The OWC gets more competitive every year. You can see it here in Indianapolis, the crowd sizes rivaling those in Formula International. There are plenty of guys coming up behind me who want to take my place. But that’s why I race. I’m not here to coast. I’m here to prove I can keep my spot, and that’s the mentality I’ll bring to every race this season.”

The reporter nods in agreement. “Nash… you’ve built a reputation as a consistent and aggressive driver. How do you keep your focus, especially with so much attention on you?”

I pause for a second, considering. “I’ve been racing my whole life, but the last few years, especially after the crash, I had to learn how to focus differently. It’s not just about the race anymore. It’s about my mindset. It’s about being present in every moment. I know what’s at stake and that drives me. But I’m also aware that anything can happen because racing is unpredictable. You have to keep your head on straight and adapt as you go.”

“Well, you’ve certainly made a statement today,” the reporter adds with a smile. “Is this the start of another championship-winning season?”

I smile, my confidence solid. “We’ll see. It’s one race down, but I’m not satisfied. There’s a long road ahead and I’m going to keep pushing every step of the way.”

The reporter nods, wrapping up the interview. “We’re excited to see what’s next. Best of luck for the rest of the season, Nash.”

“Thanks,” I say, giving him a nod and then I’m whisked away. I jump into my teams’ arms, give another interview, and then I’m on the podium, spraying champagne at the second- and third-place winners.

Then it’s off to the showers where I gratefully wash away the dirt, sweat and bubbly wine, slipping into comfortable jeans, a sweater and leather jacket.

My manager Greg Persons meets me outside my dressing room, a shit-eating grin on his face. “There’s someone here who wants to talk to you.”

I’m beyond exhausted, the last of the adrenaline having washed down the shower drain. “Can we not? I just want to get back to my hotel—”

“Trust me,” Greg says. “You want to talk to this person.”

He doesn’t wait for me to agree and starts pushing me into the small relaxation room where I often meditate before a race.

I come up short when I see the beautiful blond woman standing there, wearing a navy-blue power suit with pearls at her throat. Her hair is twisted up and her lips are perfectly painted crimson red.

Brienne Norcross. Head of Norcross Holdings, owner of the Pittsburgh Titans, and as of three and a half months ago, the new owner of Titans Racing, a formula race team based out of Guildford, England.

“Mr. Sinclair,” she says in a cool, cultured tone. She steps forward, offers me her hand and I take it. “That was quite a race. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” I say as we shake, a little discombobulated that she’s standing here. I’m not the type to get starstruck, and I don’t right now. But my pulse jackhammers harder than it ever has out on the track because her presence here can only mean one thing. “Please call me Nash.”

She inclines her head, a smile on her bloodred lips. “Your performance last year in the OWC series was beyond impressive and it looks like you’re on track—no pun intended—to repeat a championship.”

I appreciate the sentiment, but I can’t agree with it. “The season just started. It’s going to be a battle to the end.”

She hums low in her throat, almost as if she appreciates my humility. “Well, be that as it may, I’m actually here to talk about Formula International.”

---