Page 58 of Formula Chance

“I’m sorry, Matthieu,” I say quietly into the comms, my heart sinking. “The strategy didn’t work.”

His response is icy. “And whose fucking fault is that?”

I don’t reply because I know the answer. It’s ultimately my fault because I’m the chief strategy engineer and it was my call.

When the checkered flag falls, Nash crosses the line in P3, securing a podium finish for Titans Racing. It’s the most glorious outcome imaginable, his first race back in formula and he secured a podium win. While I’m nearly bursting with pride in Nash and excitement for his future, I’m dreading the fallout with Matthieu.

♦

It’s a beautifultradition when the top three finishers come into pit lane after the race concludes. They line up in number one, two and three positions and each driver’s crew of mechanics, engineers and tire guys come out for celebration. That usually occurs with the driver running toward them, leaping joyfully into their arms and getting backslaps.

I watch as Nash has that perfect moment of victory. Granted, he got third place, but it is still a massive win for him and for Titans Racing. It’s also proven to the world that he is back in full form and is going to be a strong contender this year for the Driver’s Championship.

Matthieu, on the other hand, flies out of his car, vibrating with menace. He takes off his helmet and slings it away before ripping off his protective balaclava and dropping it to the tarmac. He glances around, his own crew milling about with dejected expressions as they tend to his car.

When he sees me, I brace for the tsunami coming my way. He strides over to me, fists clenched, and towers over me threateningly.

“This is on you!” he yells, his voice echoing through the garage. “Your stupid strategy cost me the race!”

“Matthieu, calm down,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady even as my cheeks burn with humiliation and nausea rolls in my belly.

“Calm down?” he snarls, stepping closer and I shrink back. “I told you those tires wouldn’t work! I told you this was a bad idea! Hendrik told you it was a bad idea. But you think you know everything.”

Nash appears out of nowhere, stepping between us and taking three steps to force Matthieu away from me. “You need to back the fuck off,” he says sharply, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And show some fucking respect.”

“Respect?” Matthieu practically spits the word, as if it’s filthy. “She’s got no business being in that position and she proved that today.”

“Funny,” Nash counters lightly, but his body remains tense. “Her strategy seemed to work well for me. I’ll be thanking her from on top of the podium.”

“Yeah, about that,” Matthieu drawls, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’m guessing you got preferential treatment since you two are fucking.”

I gasp, looking wildly around the garage to see everyone watching this unfold, and all eyes are on us. I want to melt into the floor and die from embarrassment, but there’s no time. Nash’s hands fly out, catching Matthieu in the chest. He doesn’t push him back, rather pulls him in close. “Want to say that again to my face?”

Matthieu is beyond reasoning though and he leers at Nash, only inches apart from one another. “Everyone knows she’s sleeping her way into keeping that top position.”

Nash reacts so brutally fast I can only watch in horror as his fist plants in Matthieu’s face. The impact is so great, Matthieu flies backward over the race car, tumbling to the other side. Nash doesn’t wait to see what happened to him but strides around the side with the obvious intention of giving him another taste of his fists.

“Stop!” I screech, lunging forward and grabbing Nash’s arm. “Don’t. You’ve got everyone watching and it’s making it worse.”

Nash’s head turns back to me, vibrating with fury. “He deserves to get his ass kicked.”

“And you’re making it look like Iamsleeping with you to keep my job,” I hiss at him. “This isn’t going to affect you, but people won’t look at me the same.”

I glance over to see Matthieu stand up and rub his jaw as he swivels it back and forth, grimacing. One of the pit crew takes him by the arm and leads him out of the garage, presumably to get some ice.

While that should relieve me that he’s gone, my blood turns cold as Hendrik approaches. I don’t know where he was or if he saw everything, but by the thunderous look on his face, I’m guessing he did.

“Is that true?” Hendrik asks me and doesn’t even bother looking at Nash. “Are you sleeping with him?”

“We’re seeing each other,” Nash says, but Hendrik doesn’t look at him.

“If you’re having an intimate relationship with a driver, that is a severe conflict of interest. I have to wonder why you gave Nash the easy strategy and Matthieu the riskier one.”

“To help propel Matthieu upward,” I rush to assure him. “He was too far back, and we needed a big move. Nash’s position was secure from the start.”

“But you could have had Matthieu run on the same strategy as Nash,” Hendrik says, his voice icy and cold. “And he would have stayed in the top ten and gotten us points.”

“You can’t know that for sure,” I say lamely. “But yes… it was a risk I had to take.”

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