Page 90 of Start Your Engines

My phone vibrates with a call. It’s my dad. It’s always Dad.

“Hi,” I say, struggling to keep the tension hunching my shoulders out of my voice.

“Tawny should have done better,” he says.

“Hello to you, too.”

“Senna, the board are moaning because you brought someone into the team that’s never driven in F1,” he snaps.

“I’m aware. They told me at the meeting this week, and I told them to get over it, as she is an exceptional driver. Did you see her today? It’s only her third race with us, and she came seventh. Antoine barely scraped that in his last races.”

“I’m not happy you fired him.”

I cover the mouthpiece and scream. Silas, Connor’s trainer, looks over at me, and I give him a fake smile. I have to do this alone. My dad doesn’t need to be the team’s problem.

“And I’m not happy that he nearly killed Connor, who was third again today.” And drove like a sexy speed demon. “Don’t you think it’s time you left me to lead the team rather than get involved in everything?”

“I spoke with Antoine and his dad. Antoine wants to meet with you to apologise. He’s sorry for what happened,” he says, ignoring my request.

I don’t believe that for a second, but there’s no point explaining this. I knew Antoine wouldn’t leave it alone when I fired him.

“He knows where to find me. But I’m not taking him back. I’m building a team, not managing an arrogant prick,” I snap.

I spy Macca staring at his phone with a frown. He’s always the first to celebrate the team.

Dad continues, “Another thing?—”

“No, I’ve got to go. Tell me another time. Love you.”

But he hangs up without hearing my last words.

Silas comes over. “Are you okay, boss? Is there anything I can do?”

I shake my head. “No, but thank you.” It’s my job to act as a buffer between the board and my team. “Is something wrong with Macca? He seems down.”

“It’s to do with his kid’s birthday. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

“Thanks, Silas.” I raise my voice as Silas walks to Tawny’s trainer. “Macca, can I have a word?”

Macca quickly tucks his phone in his pocket as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. No doubt a legacy of my dad’s management. Rule with fear, not with support. That’s not my way.

His brow furrows as he joins me. “Did I do something wrong? Connor had a good race. I was only joking on the radio.”

“Macca, you were incredible today. We’re lucky to have you as our chief race engineer. Connor knows he’s got the best.” A hint of a smile plays on his lips.

“Oh, well. You know, I’m all right.”

“You’re the best, Macca. I want to hear you say it.”

He presses his lips together, but his smile appears anyway. “I’m the best, boss.”

“Damn right,” I say. “But if something is up, you’d tell me.”

He shrugs. “It’s just family stuff.”

“Family is what enables us to do this and do it well. What’s on your mind?”

He avoids eye contact and wrings his hands.

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