Page 55 of Close Contact
Before I could second-guess myself, I signed my name at the bottom of the last page. When I handed the folder back, a wave of pride swelled in my chest. This wasn’t just a contract. It was astatement.
“I don’t like to keep people waiting,” I told him with a wry grin, handing the contract back to him. “Thank you for the opportunity. I won’t let you guys down.”
He hummed, giving me a scrutinizing look. “I don’t doubt it. Good luck during the press conference,Aurélie. They can be vultures in there.”
He took off in the opposite direction I was heading, and I just stood there, mouth agape.
He turned and grinned at me. “Oh, andAurélie?ForzaFerrari.”
All my sacrifices, late nights, race losses and wins, highs and lows, the struggles of being underestimated… none of it mattered now.
I’d just signed with Ferrari, the most iconic team in Formula 1 history. Right after I’d been kissed senseless.
This was the best day of my life.
Callumand Marcowere both lounging on the couch scrolling on their phones when I entered the conference space. Reporters shifted in their seats and whispered to each other as I stepped onto the dais and took my seat between the Vanguard drivers who’d thrown everything at me today, the two of them sitting up with practiced ease.
The moderator started with Marco, who leaned forward, his signature grin lighting up his face. “MarcoBianchi, third place in today’s Monaco GrandPrix. It’s been a consistent season for you so far. What are your thoughts on today’s race?”
Marco smirked. “Consistent, sure. But not nearly as entertaining as watching these two go at it up front. If it weren’t for the rain and the safety car, I might’ve joined them in their little dance.”
Go at it.If only Marco knew his teammate and I were all over each other not ten minutes ago.
I rolled my eyes, lifting my mic. “Oh, please. You barely made it through Turn 6 without hitting the wall on the first lap.”
The room erupted in laughter, Marco throwing his hands up in mock defeat. “See? This is what I get for being polite.”
“You started it,” I shot back as the moderator tried to regain control.
“Fraser, second place,” the moderator continued, turning to Callum. “You had an incredible battle withAuréliefor much of the race. How does it feel to have another podium here in Monaco?”
Callum’slips twitched, his eyes flicking to me for the briefest moment before he spoke. “Like it was meant to be.”Oh, my God. This man was a hopeless romantic. He always knew how to hit me right in the heart.
“Monaco is the pinnacle, and finishing on the podium is always an honor. But today belongs toAurélie. She drove a flawless race. Her strategy, her control in the rain—she was impossible to touch out there.” He paused, and I could feel his eyes on me.
Don’t look, Dubois.
“Watching her command a car like that in the wettest conditions? That’s what makes a champion.”
Okay, I was going to kill him. He couldnotbe saying sinful things like this on a recorded interview. Not when I had to sit on a fucking sofa beside him and keep my body’s reactions in check.
“Aurélie,” the moderator shifted to me, pulling my attention back to the room. “Your first win in Formula 1, and it’s in Monaco. How does it feel?”
I tilted my head. “It feels… overdue,” I admitted. “Winning here, against two of the best drivers in the world? I’m still processing it, honestly.”
“You went through almost half the race without a radio. Tell us what you were thinking in those moments.”
“It was a balance of taking risks and not taking them. I fought with the team’s strategy before thecommswent out aboutwhen to pit. I knew how the car was feeling, the degradation of the tires, and watching the weather. At the same time, I could seeCallumand Marco starting to struggle on their tires, and while the team wanted me to pit first so I could undercut them, I felt that was the wrong call.”
Callumshifted beside me, a small smile curling his lips. He really was a beautiful specimen of a man. “It was a smart call. Her instincts—you can’t teach that kind of feel for a car.”
My nipples tightened, the feel of my sports bra suddenly irritating. He wasn’t eventryingto sound normal. He saidfeellike it was the filthiest word in the world. And it was, because I remembered how his mouth was just all over me.
So not the time,Dubois.
“Not many drivers would’ve waited it out like that or disagreed with their team. The team’s role is to guide you to success, but at the same time, they forget that they’re not in the car. As a driver, you have little to no margin for error, and you know the car better than anyone. So it’s also the team’s responsibility to listen to what the driver is saying,” he added.
I swallowed, feeling so fucking validated in my actions. “Not many drivers can afford to do that,” I responded.
