Page 40 of Start Your Engines

“Get out, Antoine, before I do something we both regret. Tuesday morning in my office.” I dismiss him with a wave of my hand.

“Jumps,” my dad says, imploring me to change my mind. Antoine smirks before he turns.

“Don’t call me that,” I snap, turning on my dad.

He holds his hands up in surrender. “But it was funny when you used to jump the lights. Forgive me. After all, you’ve eaten dinner with Connor, so you’ve forgiven him.”

I turn to Connor. “I can’t believe you told Antoine. He’s telling everyone.”

Connor steps closer. “I didn’t?—”

“There are too many egos in here. I’m out.” I walk across the garage.

“Senna,” my dad says. I recognise his tone, but he’s not the boss anymore, neither of the team nor me.

“Leave it, Dad. Go for dinner and schmooze your friends. Talk about how brilliant you made this team and not the mistakes you left me to clean up.”

His jaw hits the floor, and his ears turn bright red. No one calls my dad out, and I hate that I’m already planning how to smooth things over later with a call and apology.

“And Dane, be in my office on Tuesday at ten,” I snap.

CHAPTER 18

Connor

I check my watch.It’s 9:45. So what if I arrived at the offices a little early in case Senna needed my help with Antoine? Since the Spanish Grand Prix on Sunday, I’ve replayed the awkwardness with Senna in the garage. There was so much I didn’t get to say.

Jimmy tells me Senna is still in a meeting, but where’s Antoine’s familiar peacocking?

Maybe she has another driver in there, and she’s replacing me because I’m too much trouble.

I lean to the side, but my view is restricted.

I fiddle with my phone, pretending to check my socials, but my attention is on Senna’s office. My reflection from the glass confronts me: tired eyes, ruffled hair hidden with my cap, and my team hoodie.

My stomach churns, and sweat beads my forehead. Part of me wants to be fired. It means no more driving and dealing with anxiety-induced insomnia. I don’t love driving like I used to, and I perform various rituals at every race to prevent accidents. Then, I spend the rest of the race seeing hazards that aren’t there. I’m not safe to drive, but no one realises it because I’m performing well.

But then there’s the other thing. If she fires me, I won’t be able to spend time with her anymore. I want to be more than friends, but that can’t happen. I must protect her, though.

“Is Antoine still with her?” I ask Jimmy, whose head remains buried in his computer. “Hey, Jimmy. Is Antoine still with her?” I ask a little louder.

“I’m not talking to you. You got me in trouble when you overheard me discussing her dinner habits.” He side-eyes me as I step up to the desk.

“I’m sorry about that. I want to make sure Senna is looked after. I didn’t mean to cause problems for you.” His mouth drops open as he furrows his brow. “What?”

“You apologised.”

I turn my hands up.

“So?”

“You never apologise. Everyone knows that. When you mess up, you shrug and walk away. You never apologise.”

“I’m sure that’s not tru?—”

“Like never ever,” Jimmy replies, his voice slightly louder.

I roll my shoulders. Of course I apologise, like that time when Senna got hurt. I run through the things I said to her. When I did it recently, maybe I dived straight into explaining myself…

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