Page 8 of Start Your Engines

“But this is what I’ve always wanted,” I stutter, readying myself for battle.

“Inheriting a failing team and a car not fit for purpose and doing it all alone?” I bloody love this straight-talking man, even as he confronts me with the truth.

“Dad cut corners and focused on the short-term.” I cradle my head as I study my laptop, which shows an image of thecar we’re unveiling to the press tomorrow at Shakedown—the day we’ll run the car around a track for the first time to make sure it stays together. “You know how big a deal tomorrow is. And I’m petrified by how Dad has decimated this team with his management over the last few years.”

Out of the corner of my eye, Ralf nods. “This team has been mistreated for years.”

“He doesn’t believe I can make this team a success.”

Ralf nods.

Gloom grips me.

“Little Boss, look at me,” he directs.

I lift my head slowly to study those big blue eyes and soft smile. He leans forward, his elbows on the desk. It’s one of his signature moves, and as much as I’m struggling to deal with my dad’s lack of belief in me, I still nod because Uncle Ralf is here, and he’s never doubted me.

“Your dad is an arschgeige.” I grin at the playful German term for dickhead. Ralf has said much worse to my dad during their arguments. “It was your dream to run this team. You’ve spent your life around this place, learning everything about how the cars work and how to get their greatest performance internally and on the track.”

“I know, but it’s not enough. I also know what it’s like to fail.”

He cocks an eyebrow and offers me a sour face. “And to come back fighting harder.”

“I presumed I’d get advice and not a pep talk. But you’re just like Jacs.”

He waves my comment away with his hand. “You kick arse while respecting the opinion of others. You know what it is to be a champion. Niki has lost the wide-eyed excitement. That moment came for me when I realised every drive could be my last. He’s not in the right place to be around this team. But you came through that.”

I hold my hand up to stop the ego-massaging chat.

“No, Little Boss, you need to hear this. I am here to remind you who and what you are.”

“Dad taught me never to show vulnerability in racing. I’ve tried to be a bitch boss with the team, but it’s not me,” I reply flatly.

“Exactly!” His voice booms around the office. “You are not your dad, and you can’t boss like him. You are a strategist, a car expert, a racing driver, and someone who makes things happen. You won awards for the team’s social media and branding. You pulled this team into this century when everyone else decided it was an old boy’s network and an extension of your dad’s deteriorating strategy. The mechanics respect you. Everyone respects you. So it’s time you respected yourself and ran the team like you know how because you are brilliant, and you will rule this team with an iron fist and a listening heart. And you will achieve it on your own because that is what you do.”

He shouts the last part with conviction.

Connor passes my doorway.

“Someone doesn’t respect me.” I nod in the direction of my liability.

I bloody hate him and his heart-fluttering body. That man in my team’s hoodie gives me a thrill that makes me clear my throat with all the anger I can muster.

Ralf turns his head. “Dane? He respects you, but he can’t show it. In fact, he respects you too much.”

I laugh off that suggestion.

“Trust me on that, Little Boss.” I open my mouth, but he silences me with more wisdom. “It’s your other driver you need to monitor.”

“Antoine? He’s harmless. He’s a punk with an ego bigger than his d…” Ralf cocks his eyebrow. “Not that I’ve seen it.”

“His ego?”

“No, his dick.” My face flushes. I’ve never liked Antoine, even when we raced together as teenagers. He’s a petulant child with an eye for danger and an attitude to match, but he’s all I’ve got.

“You need a partner. It will calm you. You need someone to care for you.”

I grind my teeth. “Would you say that to Niki if he was leading this team?”

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