Page 109 of Racing for Redemption
“Then he started on Violet.”
The line goes quiet. Blake knows Harrington’s history with the Colton family better than most.
“What did he say?” Blake finally asks, his tone careful. It's in moments like this that he resembles a father. Protective of Violet even if she's his boss, just like her father was.
I curl my free hand into a fist at the memory. “Called her incompetent. A trust fund kid playing at being Team Principal. Said she was accelerating the team’s downfall.”
“And you defended her honor by punching him in the face?” Blake’s tone is difficult to read—somewhere between exasperation and understanding, I can't really tell.
“Not just that.” I hesitate, unsure how much to reveal. Blake is Violet’s confidant, has been for years, even before she took over the reins at Colton Racing.How much does he know about what happened in Melbourne?“He… insinuated things. About Violet and me.”
Another long silence. “What sort of things?”
I drop onto the small sofa against the wall, suddenly exhausted. “That I was sleeping with the boss for career advancement.That she was manipulating me. That I wasn’t the first driver she’d—” I break off, unable to repeat the words.
“And that’s when you hit him.”
“Yeah.”
Blake exhales heavily. “William, you realize he was baiting you, right? Dominic Harrington doesn’t say anything without calculating exactly what response he wants.”
“I know that now,” I admit. “Too late.”
“He wants to destabilize Colton Racing. He’s had a vendetta against this team since Frederick beat him to multiple championships in the 90s. And you played right into his hands.”
The truth stings worse than my bruised knuckles.
“I’m sorry, Blake. If Violet wants to fire me, I understand. I’ll release a statement taking full responsibility.” My hands are trembling, brow furrowed so deep it hurts, and my voice is quivering. I'll accept the consequences, but seeing my dream die due to my own stupidity is… frustrating.This isn't the ending I wanted. That I dreamed of. Damn, I feel like crying right now.
“That’s not why I called,” Blake says. “I also called, because I noticed something, William. After Melbourne.”
My heart rate picks up. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve known Violet since she was a kid, hanging around her father in the garage. I know whensomething’s changed in her life.” His voice softens. “Or whensomeonehas.”
Heat creeps up my neck. “Blake, I—”
“I’m not asking for details,” he interrupts. “That’s between you two. But, I noticed how you both were after Melbourne.How you couldn’t stop looking at her during the flight to Dubai. How she seemed… lighter. Happier than I’ve seen her in years. Work has taken over her life to the point there are no longer any lines left to blur. Work is her life. Her identity. If you take her away from there, even for a moment, you're a good thing in her life.”
I close my eyes, remembering. Violet’s soft smile as she tried to be professional on the flight. How she stole glances at me when she thought no one was watching.
“This situation with Harrington isn’t just about a punch,” Blake continues. “It’s about why you threw it. And that’s why I called instead of Violet. Because she’s too emotional right now with all the stress of trying to keep this team on track, not resting and having her career on the line, and she might make a decision she’d regret.”
“Emotional?” I repeat, latching onto the word. Violet Colton, the woman who negotiates multimillion-dollar deals without blinking, who stares down the F1 old boys’ club without flinching—emotional about me?
“She’s been wearing your watch, William. Well, I'll assume it's yours, since I recall you had a similar looking one.”
The words hit me like another 51 Gs impact. “My watch?” A lump forms in my throat.
“She hasn’t taken it off in weeks. Keeps touching it during meetings when she thinks no one’s looking.”
The vintage Omega my grandfather gave me when I won my first karting championship. I’d left it on Violet’s bedside table that night, my clumsy excuse to see her again.
“She wears it?” My voice sounds strange to my own ears.
“Every day.” Blake pauses. “Look, I don’t know exactly what’s between you two, and I don’t need to. You’re both adults, and what you may or may not be doing isn’t affecting the team. But I do know that Violet doesn’t let people in easily. Not since her father died. Not since her mother passed away last year, right after she gave up on the promotion at Gritt Tires she worked so hard to get, and joined the team as it was sinking. Actually, before all of that. The fact that she’s kept that watch, that she wears it… It means something.”
My chest aches with a feeling I haven’t allowed myself to name. Hope, maybe. I want to see her so badly.
