Page 48 of Start Your Engines

“There’s more, isn’t there?” she asks, blowing on her tea.

“There’s lots. But one thing stuck with me as I drove here. What if one of the people Connor was trying to save me from is Antoine? Do you think he would have done that?”

My mum looks to the ceiling. “It’s possible. But he won’t admit it to you. If he’s like his dad, he sees it as a success. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you better when you were racing. Your dad told me that you needed to be tough and face battles alone.” She locks eyes with me. “I should have stepped in before it was too late.”

I rush around the counter and hug her tightly. “It wasn’t your fault, or Connor’s. Let’s not blame the wrong people anymore. I need to work out how to make things better. I love you, Mum.”

“I love you too.” She hugs me so hard I can’t breathe.

“I’m going before Dad comes home. I need to keep processing without his opinion getting in the way.” I extract myself from her mama bear grip. “And I’ve got Silverstone in a couple of weeks and need to make sure we can be contenders at our home Grand Prix.”

As I reach the door, she says, “Don’t work too hard.”

I smile back at her. She knows better than anyone that a team boss will always work too hard.

“And don’t keep thinking you’re alone in this. Drop by anytime for a chat.”

“Okay.”

But I won’t.

I’ve listened to too many people over the last years, and maybe if I hadn’t been so pig-headed and believed the worst about Connor, I wouldn’t have lost his friendship. I need to do this alone. Dad was right about the life of a racing driver facing battles alone. That stretches into the life of a team boss.

No one can bring success to this team but me.

CHAPTER 22

Senna

Connor jumpsout of his car and bounces towards the cheering pit crew hanging over the barrier.

“P3!” they shout, and I watch the screen with a beaming smile.

Connor came third in front of a home crowd at Silverstone. It’s his first podium with us and the first podium we’ve had in nearly two years.

Jacs stands by me. On-screen, Connor springs up and down the asphalt.

“He needed this,” I say, unable to pull my gaze from his joy radiating off the screen. He earned every lap and pushed the car to do what was once impossible.

“We all needed it,” Jacs replies.

I nod. Watching him bounce and beam makes my body flutter like a million butterflies have gotten loose in my chest. I’ve barely thought of anything else since he admitted what happened when we were young. We’ve lost years of friendship, but maybe there’s a chance for a new friendship.

Antoine limps across the finish line, grumbling on the radio that Connor tapped him and got the podium Antoine deserves. None of us pander to it. Connor raced fairly.

I couldn’t grin harder as Connor swaggers to the interviewer.

“We need to go out tonight and celebrate,” Jacs adds.

Connor beams during his television interview with five-time championship winner Petre Piaf. I used to have the biggest crush on Petre, and yet, as Connor fluffs his hair and his eyes dance, he’s all I see. I bite the inside of my mouth as I remember some of the fantasies I’ve played out in my head this week while trying to sleep. When he puts a cap on backwards, I tap my fingers restlessly against my thighs. I want him, but I can’t have him. I’m his boss. The only female team boss. I need to make strides for women, not fall for the bad boy on my team.

I would be a laughing stock, and my dad wouldn’t forgive me.

And Niki would freak out.

Connor answers Petre’s question about the car. “I want to thank everyone back at the factory for today. It’s a team effort. They’re doing great things with the car. It’s impossible not to do well when you have a car like this.”

Jacs giggles. I shake my head and cover my smile with my hand. Did he have to get a dig in about Antoine’s performance? That’s going to piss him off. But Connor has a point.

---