Page 61 of Start Your Engines

“But he didn’t. You’re doing what you can to help. I think he wants to hear from you.”

I step back and shake my head. “He doesn’t need me in his life. Look at what I’ve done to it. I treated him like crap when he tried to protect me as a teenager, and now I’m finding new ways to hurt him.” I make a note to ask Ric to call him. He needs the psychologist now more than ever, although not to help him race, but to help him exist. “Did he like the food?”

Jimmy nods as we walk back to my apartment. “Nearly as much as I loved driving your car. I could have driven him in mine.”

“It’s not my main car. He would have recognised that. Anyway, you needed something with a lot of space so he could stretch out.”

“It took me twenty minutes to carry the shopping and house stuff in. You must have been in the supermarket all day.”

I shrug. Technically, I was there for two hours in the middle of the night, trudging up and down the aisles. I wanted him to have all his favourite foods. “I need him to be okay. You’ll call him while you’re away and say it’s to check on Fluffers?”

“I mean, I’d call anyway, but yeah. I’ll update you. You could call him.”

“I can’t, unless…” I scrape my lower lip with my teeth. “Did he ask after me?”

I hate that I sound needy. He told me not to go to Australia, so I didn’t. But that doesn’t mean we have a future.

Jimmy shakes his head, and my shoulders slump. What did I expect? I’ve hurt him repeatedly. My chest aches. I wrap my arms around myself to stop the shivers.

“I told him about Antoine.”

“Oh,” I manage. A driver waves at me from a Bentley. “You’d best get off. You’ve got a plane to catch, and your car is here.”

“I don’t want to leave you like this. Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Seclusion is part of being a boss. You deserve a holiday, Jimmy. You’re the best assistant ever.”

“You take care, yeah?”

He turns and sees the car I’d organised for him. “Bloody hell, Senna. I don’t deserve a car like this.”

“Yeah, you do. Have a lovely trip. I’ll be in touch.”

As the Bentley leaves, I grip my phone tightly. I should call Connor. I doubt he remembers me visiting him in the hospital, and it would be nice to hear his voice, even if he’s shouting at me about the crash. We can’t repeat what we went through as teenagers. I need to learn from that.

I scroll through my phone. I won’t beg him to return for the next half of the season. I’ll find someone to replace him if I need to.

Before I press call, my phone beeps with an email. It’s from Connor and titled “Resignation.”

I nearly drop my phone, fumbling to open it. Does he blame me, hate me? I won’t beg him to stay. I’ll return after the summer break with no drivers, but I don’t care. I won’t ask Connor to return after everything he’s been through.

Dear Miss Coulter,

I am writing to inform you of my decision to resign from Coulter Racing with immediate effect.

Yours,

Connor Dane

A sob breaks free from my mouth at the formal tone. This has been his only contact since the crash.

I walk into my apartment to get ready for the office. I need to throw myself into work because that’s all I’ve got left.

CHAPTER 30

Connor

“Come here, Fluffers,”I call out.

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