Page 52 of Dirty Air
“Um, you’re going to have dinner with Adam and his wife tonight.”
“Adam?” Fritz pops up to his feet, his melancholy temporarily forgotten. “Like,Red Boar Team Principal,Adam Stone?”
“Yes, that’s him.”
Fritz covers his mouth to contain the excitement threateningto escape. “I do not have anything to wear. Not like—not fancy dinner clothes.”
“We’ve already sent someone out to find a suit in your size. Something nice, so it looks like this has been planned for longer than like, today.” Oh man, that's such a good idea. That room of strangers is so smart. “It’ll be off the rack, so it might not fit perfectly, but we can make it work.”
“Dinner with Adam,” Fritz breathes. “How will that fix anything? Will it not seem like I am crashing their date?”
Madison clears her throat. “Um, that’s what I’ll be there for.”
“Oh.”
Madison is pretty, sure, but—in the most delicate way possible—she’s not what someone would expect of a Formation 1 driver’s girlfriend. Beautiful, yes, but in a very plain way.
“I’m not trying to be presumptuous,” she says with a depressing huff. “I know what you’re probably thinking, but they volunteered me because I’m closest to you in age.”
Fritz feels just a smidge guilty that he was read so easily.
“No one online knows what I look like, so the hope is we might fool some people into thinking we’re together and that you’re not, um,sleeping aroundwith various team principals.”
“Okay.” Fritz doesn’t understand it, but he trusts whoever decided to put him in front of Adam Stone. “Sure, but do you really think another date would help? I did not do well on the last one.”
“The idea is to change the story from date to meeting. Once you’re seen with another team principal, the story evolves into a debate over which team you would rather drive for.”
“I see.”
“Right now, it’s you versus Sven in the press and, honestly, you’re losing. But this way, it’s Red Boar versus Mercenary—and everyone knows fighting Sven is one of Adam’s favorite things to do.”
“And Adam Stone accepted this?” It seems like a lot of unnecessary work added to a fully loaded plate.
“His team actually suggested it.”
The restaurant is a bougie place with dark walls, metal hardware, and tables crammed too close together. The who’s who of everyone in town for the race has their phone out and pointed at the party as the four of them trudge past every table to get to their reserved booth in the back.
Madison is tucked up under Fritz’s arm as she attempts to hide her face. Though she looks different with her hair curled and makeup done, she’s adamant about hiding as well as she can.
Fritz can only imagine the types of comments she reads every day about the women associated with drivers.
Adam, on the other hand, seems to be having the time of his life. It almost feels like the whole plan was his idea when he pulls out the chair for Fritz but leaves his wife to shuffle over into the booth.
“We’ll be more visible from here.” The team principal is absolutely giddy as he flips his serviette out with a flourish.
They open their menus, and Adam leans over to point out the steak options for Fritz.
“But it is a race weekend.”
“I’ll feed you some of mine then, right off the fork. Shovethatup Sven’s ass.”
Fritz laughs and relaxes. Finally, someone who understands what a farce the whole situation is.
He orders the salmon with water. Only after his menu distraction is taken away does Fritz realize that he’s supposed to make dinner-long conversation with a team principal he’s never spoken to before.
“So what did Sven talk about?” Adam asks, leaning closer.The dim light of the restaurant catches the grey in his hair, making it shine. “Did it have anything to do with racing? Or was it just set up to look that way? Fucking brilliant.”
Easy for him to say. “It did not feel brilliant when I saw him walk away with the photographer.”
