Page 2 of Formula Chance

As I expected, but just the mention of the most elite open-wheel racing series in the world has my stomach bottoming out, and not with excitement.

“I’m not sure I understand,” I say cautiously, not wanting to assume the worst.

Or is it the best?

Brienne clasps her hands before her, and I can practically feel Greg vibrating with eagerness. “Oh, you’re a smart man, I have no doubt,” she says with a laugh. “Surely you must know that if I’m here to talk about Formula International, then I’m here to talk to you about driving for Titans Racing.”

The floor spins, but I can’t show weakness. I clamp onto the back of the chair and lean forward, truly to steady myself, but I’m hoping it conveys mild interest.

“You have two drivers, though,” I point out.

“I’m sure you saw the crash in Bahrain?” I nod, and she continues. “While it appeared that both drivers were fine, Tomas Aalto has a compression fracture in his vertebrae and will be out for at least three months. I need someone to step in.”

I stare at her, speechless for a moment. “You want me to replace him?”

Her eyes lock onto mine, steady and unwavering. “Yes. I want you in the seat for the Jeddah race.”

“But that’s in…” My mind whirls as I calculate. “Eight days. I haven’t raced a formula car in three years. And you know damn well what happened the last time I was in one.”

Brienne doesn’t flinch. “I understand all of that. I also know you are one of the best drivers in FI history. You’ve got the skills, the talent, and the drive. What you’ve been through, though, is exactly why I’m offering this. I need someone who understands what it takes to get back in the game, someone who’s fought the demons you have. And you’ve got something Tomas doesn’t—experience.”

I shake my head, unsure. “I don’t know. I’m comfortable here in the OWC series.”

Her mouth turns down as if she’s disappointed by that. “Look… if you want to be comfortable, then you should stay in the OWC. If you want the challenge and the chance to take back your power in a formula car, I’m willing to talk. But you have to want it.”

Christ. I hate the fact that something deep inside me is screamingI want it!

My gaze drops to my scarred hands. Red, pitted flesh made better by numerous skin graft surgeries. I truly never thought I’d ever want to return to formula racing, but now that an opportunity is before me, I don’t know that I can turn my nose up at it.

My gaze rises to meet Brienne’s. “So, what is this exactly? Are you offering me a job?”

“I’m not offering you a job yet,” she replies firmly. “I’m offering you the chance to prove you are the one I should offer the job to. I want you to come to Pittsburgh with me to meet with the executive team. They’re the ones who need convincing.”

I’m shocked that the meeting will be in Pittsburgh. The entire operation is based in Guildford, so I’m wondering if they’ll relocate their headquarters. For now, that’s neither here nor there.

“But you’re convinced?” I ask hesitantly.

She nods, breaking visual contact with me. “I am. The ball’s in your court.”

My mind whirls at the offer. Part of me wants to jump at the opportunity. The thought of getting back into it, the speed, the technology—it all makes Formula International the pinnacle of racing.

But I can’t shake the fear. What if I fail? What if I can’t get back to who I was?

What if I can’t even get into the car because all I can feel is the heat of the fire, all I can hear are the screams of agony?

My hesitation is obvious and I’m surprised Brienne doesn’t just walk away. Instead, she moves in closer to me, her voice warming, and she’s no longer the cool, billionaire businesswoman. “You’ve got nothing to lose by coming to the meeting, Nash. You’re the best choice for this team. I wouldn’t have asked you otherwise.”

Greg finally voices his opinion, although I already know his stance. “This is a big opportunity. I think you should go.”

He’s been my manager for years and knows what that crash did to me and my confidence. More than anyone, he understands the struggle to get back into racing and that even me joining the OWC series was a huge milestone.

“You’re too good for the OWC, Nash. You belong back in Formula International,” he says solemnly.

I take a long breath, torn between the pull of returning to FI and the weight of the memories I’ve been fighting to escape. The crash, Matteo trapped in the flames, screaming for me to help him.

The pain from my burns, so intense there were times I wanted to die.

It all comes rushing back and as always, it conjures a black cloud of despair and uncertainty over me.

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