Page 113 of Cross the Line
As usual, he doesn’t entertain my shock. ‘You’ll finish out the season alongside Kivinen,’ he explains, ‘and you’ll take Kivinen’s seat when Zaid returns next year.’
I take a little comfort in that. They’re assuming Zaid will be well enough to make a return, and judging from Willow’s soft exhale, she feels the same. But it doesn’t temper my shock otherwise.
‘And Argonaut is going tolet me?’
‘Argonaut will get paid a pretty penny to let you leave early. In fact, there was a bit of a war over you. D’Ambrosi wanted you to replace Lorenzo – claimed they had the rights to you because of the engine agreement Argonaut has with them. But money talks, and Mascort is offering more.’
I’d be a little more flattered if I wasn’t pissed that Howard did all of this behind my back. ‘You didn’t think to ask what I wanted or involve me in these talks before now?’
‘They were happening when you were getting scans to make sure your brain was still intact.’
Well, fuck.
‘You’re being looped in now,’ Howard goes on. ‘Obviously the choice is up to you, but you now have an opportunity to go to Mascort earlier than planned.’
I blow out a breath, taking in the way Willow has pressed her lips into a thin line. She’s clearly stunned by the mad moves these guys have been making too.
‘They didn’t waste any time, did they?’
‘There can be no empathy where millions of dollars are involved. You know that.’
He’s not wrong, no matter how sick that idea makes me. ‘Does that mean the news about me going to Mascort next season is coming out soon too? They can’t keep that a secret for long if they expect me to be in their car by Friday.’
‘I’d say in the next hour, if it’s not out already. And I’m guessing this means you’re willing to accept the agreement?’
I look at Willow, taking in her cautious expression. Obviously, I need to see the amended contract for myself, and I need both Howard and my lawyers to walk me through it, but . . . I want this. I really do.
And when I start to see a hint of Willow’s dimples, I know she wants this for me too. ‘Yeah,’ I tell Howard, amazed my voice sounds as strong as it does, because holyshit, this has me nearly shaking. ‘Send over the new contracts.’
‘They’re already in your inbox for review.’ He pauses, letting me process everything. ‘Get ready, Dev. Your life’s about to change.’
Willow
Unsurprisingly, I feel pretty comfortable in hospitals. Same goes for urgent care centres and doctors’ offices. It’s all thanks to how much time I spent in them as a kid, having tests run and my joints put back into place. Dev, however, is beyond uncomfortable. And I can’t blame him. For him, hospitals mean the worst.
‘I hate it here,’ he grumbles, sticking close to my side as we make our way down the hall toward the patient rooms. ‘Why does disinfectant have to smell like that? It’s sogross.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ I soothe. I have to bite back a laugh at his whining. He’s truly nervous. ‘Zaid wants to see you. And you don’t say no to Zaid Yousef.’
We can’t stay long, considering our flight to Japan leaves in two hours, but when summoned by a seven-time world champion – and future teammate – Dev did exactly what he was told.
He straightens up a little, composing himself. ‘That’s for sure.’
I’m here for moral support, but knowing Zaid is well enough to receive visitors has lessened some of the weight on my chest. I still don’t know much about Axel’s or Lorenzo’s conditions. I can only hope they’re improving as well.
Dev was right, though. This is the world of Formula 1. And I have to accept it. It’s a high-risk, high-reward sport, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. I can only stand behind the drivers I’m there to support and do my best to stay strong.
And I will. Because I’d do anything for Dev. Anything to stay in his world. Our world.
When we reach Zaid’s room, he pauses outside the door and squeezes my hand, a question in his eyes. ‘Will you come in with me?’
I’m pretty sure this is a conversation for just the two of them, but if he wants me in there and Zaid’s okay with it, I’ll happily stick by his side. ‘Of course.’
It takes him several seconds to hype himself up. After a couple of deep breaths and a few shoulder rolls, he gives me a nod. Then he knocks on the door and pushes it open when a voice calls for us to come in. His hand is still wrapped tightly around mine as he guides me inside, and I file behind him, peeking around his shoulder to see into the room.
The machines, wires and tubes are the first things I spot, and I trace them over to the bed where Zaid is resting. Before today, I never would have thought he was nearly forty – good genes and an even better skincare routine probably help – but here, in his hospital gown and with dark circles under his eyes, he looks every one of his years. But when he spots Dev and he starts to smile, a decade instantly vanishes. Dev is absolutely the most attractive guy on the grid, but Zaid . . . Let’s just say he’s a very close second.
‘Anderson,’ he greets, his voice surprisingly strong. ‘Thanks for coming to see me.’
