Page 67 of Formula Chance

I cringe as I think about that text. I never thought I would break up with somebody that way, but I couldn’t stand to hear his voice. Nash never responded and that was two days ago, so I assume he’s moved on.

My father walks into the kitchen, having just woken up. He’s wearing a thick blue robe, his blond hair sticking up on one side. His glasses are perched on the end of his nose and his face has graying stubble.

“Good morning,” I say cautiously.

“Morning,” he mutters.

I don’t say anything else. Conversation between us has been stilted at best and I don’t like the struggle of attempted connection that gets shot down, but I figure my dad will eventually come around.

I watch as he pours water from the kettle into a cup and stands at the kitchen window, looking out onto the side patio while his tea steeps.

Utter silence between us.

There’s a knock on the front door and I’m surprised because it’s barely seven thirty a.m. My father glances back at me and says, “Do you mind getting that? Your mum is in the shower.”

With dad in his robe and me fully dressed, that’s a no-brainer. “Of course.”

I make my way to the front door and pull open the brass cover over the peephole, and I don’t know that anything in my life could shock me more: Brienne Norcross is standing on our stoop.

I’m frozen, trying to fathom why this woman is here at my parents’ home. It makes absolutely no sense.

She knocks again and it jolts me out of my stupor. I unlock the bolts, swing open the door, and stare at her in confusion. “Ms. Norcross… what are you doing here?”

She is so posh and regal. Her hair is swept back in a perfect chignon, her trademark ruby lipstick staining her full lips. She has on a matching red wool overcoat with oversized black buttons, black leather gloves and black high-heel leather boots. She looks like she could be on her way to high tea with the king, and yet here she is at my house.

Her hands are clasped in front of her. She looks slightly standoffish and her tone confirms that. “I was wondering if you would be willing to take a ride with me, Ms. Toliver?”

I pick up on several things. She’s not happy with me. Her tone is icy, and she addressed me as Ms. Toliver when the last time we talked I was Bex.

“Where are we going?” I ask cautiously, because for all I know, she’s pissed off enough, maybe she’s going to throw me into the Thames.

“I have called an emergency meeting of all my top executives, and we are headed to Guildford. I would like you there.”

“I no longer work for Titans Racing,” I point out. “I turned in my resignation to Luca three days ago.”

Brienne’s nose wrinkles and her lip curls in disdain as she drawls, “Yes, I’m aware you turned in your resignation. That means I had to drop all the things I had going on in Pittsburgh and fly here. And I do not accept your resignation, by the way. Therefore, you’re still a member of the executive team.”

My jaw drops. “I don’t understand.”

Brienne’s expression morphs into one of irritation. Her eyes narrow at me. “I thought you were smarter than that, Ms. Toliver. What don’t you understand about the fact that I flew across the Atlantic Ocean to come here and rectify the mess you made of your position with this company? Tendering your resignation was rash and ill conceived, but I am willing to give you a pass because you are young, and I understand that you are up against indomitable forces. And with this pass I’m giving you, you’re to make this a learning experience.”

“A learning experience?”

“You would be learning that you broke a barrier as the first female chief race strategist in our industry and for you to just walk away from it will set women’s roles back decades. I’m not about to let you quit when you stand for something in this industry. Are we clear?”

I have never been so thoroughly chastised, put in my place, and yet inspired all at the same time.

Before I can answer, I feel my dad’s hands on my back. He pushes me over the threshold and out onto the front porch. “She understands fully, Ms. Norcross.” I turn around to look at my dad in shock and get a face full of my wool coat as he throws it at me.

I grab hold of it as he leans past me and extends a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for coming here and cleaning up the mess my daughter has made of things.”

Brienne’s lips tip upward in pure, genuine amusement. She pumps my father’s hand as he clutches the top of his robe in a modest position. “It is absolutely a delight to meet you, Mr. Toliver. You seem like the kind of guy who I should sit down and have a pint with.”

“I imagine we will have to set that up.” He laughs heartily.

I look back and forth between Brienne Norcross and my father who seem to be creating a friendship along the lines of best mates. So damn weird, it’s freaking me out.

I slip into my coat. “I’m ready to go,” I say briskly, hoping to put this back into a more professional scenario.

---