Page 63 of Dirty Air
Not a bigger seat on a plane or a bigger hotel room. If Fritz could ask for anything in the world, there’s only one thing he wants. His father burns a hole in the side of his skull, but Fritz looks only at Adam.
“Add?”
“I would like to retain Henry as my race engineer.”
Adam purses his lips, silent for a moment before replying, “I can’t promise I can make that happen.”
“Henry is in my contract, or I am not signing it.”
Confirmed. Fritz is confirmed. He has to repeat it in his head so he doesn’t back down.
“Can I speak to my son in private?” his father asks Adam.
“No, no, we don’t need to do that,” Fritz answers for him. Ifhe’s alone with his father he’ll lose his nerve. “I want Henry in my contract.”
If Fritz could be included in Lucas’s contract, it’s not crazy to imagine another person can be attached to his. Besides, a race engineer's salary has to cost less than a private jet… right?
“What if he says no?” Adam leans back in his chair and crosses his arms. “I would never draw up a contract that could be voided because of a third party.”
“Offer him the job for every year I am a Red Boar driver. A contract for as much as—or more than—Lucas’s current race engineer makes. If he turns it down, I will accept a replacement.”
“And what will Gary do in the meantime? Work at VFIBR? He is our most senior race engineer.”
“Yes,” Fritz answers plainly.They are squandering talent,Sven had said. Well, maybe a Red Boar race engineer can help.
Adam is silent, so Fritz is silent. He trusts Lucas. Fritz doesn’t mind silence, and it definitely doesn’t intimidate him.
“Alright,” Adam says with a frustrated exhale. “But I’m knocking a million off your base salary.”
Fritz asks his father, “Is the base salary over one million?” He’s willing to do a lot for a good car, but he doesn’t work for free.
“He offered twelve,” his father replies. “Eleven now, thanks to your pet engineer.”
“You won’t be mad when I am winning races. There's bonuses there too.”
His father huffs in anger. Fritz is definitely getting a talking-to after this.
“I should learn German,” Adam says. “Frustrating as shit, Lucas does the same thing to me. Anything else?”
“How long is the contract for?”
“Two years to start.”
Fritz nods. It’s better than a single year—easier to prove himself. Look at the difference between his two years at VFIBR.
“If that is all, I’ll have the lawyers draw up a contract for you two to sign by next week.”
Fritz lets out a shaky exhale. It’s actually happening. He’s actually going to become a Red Boar driver. “And the contract for Henry?” He can feel himself push the limits of this conversation, but he needs to know.
“After the break.”
Fritz is okay with that. When he shoots upright to shake Adam’s hand, he only stumbles a little bit.
“You should watch the race with us next week. Meet the team, get to know them better.” Adam’s handshake is firm, and it feels like something is being carved in stone. “Welcome to Red Boar, Friedrich.”
By Mexico, Fritz hasn’t officially signed his contract yet, but Lucas still drags him around the garage and introduces him to his team.
Crutch-bound, Fritz can tell that he’s a bit of a nuisance, especially on race day, but Lucas is patient and his team seems used to his antics.
