Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77816 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77816 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
I blink hard to dispel the sting in my eyes. “Thank you.”
“I got to go. We’ll talk at the sponsor party tonight, okay?”
“Sure,” I say as she starts sidestepping away from me with a wave. Her attention is already on someone else she sees down the way and she’s calling out to them.
I check my watch—four-thirty p.m. I really don’t have anything to do until the track walk. There’s no one here I’m close with, and so I had planned to sit in my small office on the second floor, running through the data that I’ve now memorized since I’ve gone through it so many times.
But I don’t want to be cooped up. Even though it’s hot as Hades out here, I love the energy buzzing around all the team garages. This race is monumental for me and I should take some time to experience it all.
I stroll along the paddock line, taking in the activity. The British flag hangs up ahead on the Union Jack Motorsports tent, clashing with the team colors of yellow, black and gray. No one from my dad’s days works there anymore, but I know some of the guys and wave as I pass by. There are three FI teams based out of Great Britain—Crown Velocity, Union Jack Motorsports and Britannia Performance. You’d think there’d be some sort of extra camaraderie based on nationality, but truthfully, every member of every team is far too competitive. Besides, formula racing transcends national ties. The sport is too international, each team an incredible blend of people from all over the world. While English is the primary language spoken, if you open your ears, you’ll hear a kaleidoscope of accents and dialects.
I can’t help but smile as I spy Carlos Moreno sitting in a chair under his team’s tent, surfing his phone. Carlos is from Mexico and the number one driver for Union Jack. He’s that guy in the sport who everyone loves, and I doubt anyone could find a bad word to say about him. He’s an excellent driver, has tremendous sportsmanship and a devilish sense of humor.
His head lifts as I approach, and a wide smile breaks out on his face. He stands, pocketing his phone, and opens his arms. “Ah… mi hermosa Bex,” he croons.
“What did you just call me?” I ask, laughing as we hug.
He pulls back, hands at my arms, and looks me in the eye. “I called you my beautiful Bex. It’s been a long time, no?”
“Far too long and I’m in no way beautiful,” I admonish, giving him a playful push to his chest.
“You’re obviously blind when you look in the mirror,” he chides and then indicates a chair near his. “Got time to hang out?”
“Only for you,” I tease. Or am I flirting?
No, definitely teasing. Carlos has always been like a brother to me.
I sit down beside the handsome driver and take him in. I’ve known him since we were kids. When I say pretty much all these drivers grew up together, it’s the truth. They all raced on the same karting tracks, and I was there beside my dad watching them. We’ve seen each other through pimples and braces, heartbreaks and heartaches.
He nods at me, looking down to the Titans logo on my shirt pocket. “How’s it going?”
“It’s still sinking in. I feel like I’m in a dream.”
Carlos chuckles. “I always knew it was a dream you’d achieve.”
“How could you have known that when I didn’t?”
“You knew it, Bex. Otherwise, you’d have never aimed for that top spot.” He wags his finger at me. “You have that sort of spirit that won’t ever give up if you want something bad enough. Besides, you’re one of the most determined people I know. Definitely have one of the strongest work ethics.”
While that statement should make me feel good, it saddens me because for some strange reason, it makes me think of my failed relationship with Nash.
I shake off those dark sentiments. “Well, I appreciate the compliment. Things looking good for Union Jack?”
Carlos shrugs casually, his smile never fading. “Same old, really. Some good, some bad. But hey, I’m happy to still be here, you know?” His gaze upon me turns softer. “It’s really good to see you.”
His genuine joy floods me with a giddiness that feels like champagne bubbles coursing through my blood. “I couldn’t have done it without a lot of people supporting me,” I admit. “And honestly, it feels a bit surreal to be here.”
Carlos gives me a nod of understanding before his gaze flicks around the paddock. “I have to say, I was surprised to see you and Nash end up on the same team,” he says, the words coming out carefully, as if gauging my response. “Actually… I was surprised to see him back in FI again.”
I shake my head. “Not me. I always knew he’d get back in, but yeah…” My voice drifts off, my fingers plucking at a string on my sleeve. “A shock to be on the same team.”