TWENTY-FIVE
BY THE TIME WE reach Las Vegas late on Tuesday afternoon, my mental panic is under control, but I’m physically the most tense I’ve ever been in my life.
Every muscle in my body is twitching and I haven’t been able to eat anything since we left Cambridge.
It doesn’t help that Pacific Time is eight hours behind the UK, and I was too wound up to sleep on the flight, so I’m both exhausted and edgy.
I’m making a conscious effort to sit still and not fidget as I sit in the back of a Lincoln Navigator, driving along The Strip towards our hotel.
Now that we’re here, surrounded by an infinite array of neon signs and illuminated billboards, it’s obvious why they decided to hold the Grand Prix at night.
Aside from the nightmare logistics of shutting down so much of the traffic infrastructure during the day, it’s not called the City of Lights for nothing.
The whole place is thrumming with energy and excitement. I only wish I could relax and enjoy it.
‘I can’t believe they’re going to turn this street into the race track,’ Yuto murmurs beside me. ‘It’s incredible.’
‘What’s incredible is the number of messages on my phone.’ Emika groans. ‘It’s going to take me all night to deal with every one.’
‘Just do your best.’ Vienna glances up from her laptop. ‘Your priority is Quinn. Anything you can’t handle, forward to Ava.’ She shoots me a look. ‘Sorry.’
‘It’s fine. That’s why I’m here.’ I smile at Emika, then look out of the window again, at a red, white and blue medieval-style castle, closely followed by the Statue of Liberty, the Eiffel Tower and the spectacular Fountains of Bellagio.
Everywhere I look is another world-famous high-rise hotel or casino.
It feels surreal, like driving through a Hollywood set.
‘We should have brought Charlotte and Andre.’ Yuto nudges me. ‘They could have got married in the Little White Chapel and we’d never have to hear another word about wedding planning ever again.’
‘No one’s getting married,’ Vienna interjects.
‘I don’t care if you meet the loves of your lives, there’s not going to be time for anything but F1.
Thousands of fans, not to mention sponsors, are descending on this city right now and I want all of them to leave in five days thinking what an incredible team we are.
This is going to be intense.’ She looks down at her phone and then immediately back up again.
‘And one more thing. Everyone keep an eye on Leif. I don’t know what happened to him over the summer break, but he’s been in a bad mood ever since Monza.
It wasn’t so obvious when he had Corey beside him to charm everyone, but this week we need him to step up and represent the team in as positive a light as possible. If he starts scowling, let me know.’
‘Vienna’s right. He’s been like a bear with a sore head for the last four GPs,’ Yuto grumbles. ‘It makes no sense when he’s driving so well.’
I squirm in my seat because I’m pretty sure Leif’s recent behaviour is my fault.
I’ve been so wrapped up in my own thoughts, I haven’t allowed myself to wonder about how my sudden silent treatment might have affected him.
Or, whenever I have, I’ve nipped it in the bud straight away because I have enough to deal with, without adding guilt into the mix.
As cowardly as it sounds, I’ve also decided the best thing to do this week is to keep on avoiding him.
I know I need to tell him about my job offer from Quezada, but I can’t do it here, especially not just before the race.
I’ll tell him as soon as we get home and then maybe …
Maybe talking about it will help me make a decision.
‘OK, this is our hotel.’ Vienna slams her laptop shut. ‘We’ll drop our bags off and then head straight to the Media Centre. I want to make sure everything’s ready for Media Day.’
‘I wonder what Quinn is like,’ Emika muses, as we enter a huge, dimly lit lobby, decorated in shades of scarlet and gold. ‘Your friend Gio must know her pretty well. Have you met her?’
‘No.’ I purse my lips. Personally, I have mixed feelings about meeting Quinn. I find it hard to forget how she almost came between Maisie and Gio earlier this year, even if it did turn out to be innocent. ‘But I’ve heard she’s nice,’ I add, to be fair.
‘I’d better find out what room she’s in, so I can go and introduce myself.’
‘Good idea,’ I say, as my anxiety skyrockets. The drivers’ personal motorhomes are for European races only. That means Leif and Quinn are probably staying in this hotel too. They – he – could appear at any moment.
‘Look!’ Emika’s hand on my arm almost makes me jump out of my skin. ‘It’s our pop-up store!’
She doesn’t wait for a response, tugging me across the lobby to where a temporary Rask store has been set up beside the entrance to the casino.
It’s decked out in chequered flags and there’s even a replica of this year’s car, along with cardboard cut-outs of Leif, Corey and Quinn, for people to take selfies with.
Even better, they seem to be doing a thriving trade in baseball caps and T-shirts.
I take a couple of quick pictures and post them online.
We want as many people as possible to know we’re here.
‘You two are roomies.’ Vienna comes over to hand us our key cards. ‘Drop your bags off and then get back down here asap. We have a lot to get done before the gala tonight.’ She strides off towards the lifts.
I stare after her. ‘What gala?’
‘For our sponsors. It’s in the schedule.’ Emika gives me a strange look. ‘Are you OK? No offence, but you seem kind of jittery.’
I clamp a hand to my stomach as it starts churning. No, I’m not OK. If there’s a gala for the sponsors, Leif will definitely be there. How could I not have known about it? How could I not have even looked at the schedule? I love schedules! It’s like I don’t know who I am any more …
‘Jet lag.’ I push the words out.
‘Ah.’ Emika nods sagely. ‘You get used to it. Come on, we’d better hurry up and do what Vienna says.’
TWO HOURS OF FRENETIC activity later, I’ve tried everything I can think of to get out of the gala.
I’ve suggested I skip it to get more work done.
That I could help run the pop-up store so some of the merchandising team can go instead.
I’ve even offered to help install wiring in the motorhome, not that I have any idea about electrics.
Short of feigning a sudden illness – not that I’ve entirely discounted the idea – I’m all out of options. I’m going to the gala.
Fuckity fuck fuck .
‘What do you think?’ Emika emerges from the bathroom looking like Rita Hayworth, or some other 1950s Hollywood siren. Her hair is set in short, glamorous waves and she’s wearing a plunging red dress with a slit all the way up her thigh.
‘You look stunning,’ I tell her.
‘Thanks.’ Her flawlessly made-up doe eyes drop to my outfit. ‘Um … is that what you’re wearing? Because you know this is Vegas, right?’
I look down at my crew-neck Rask summer dress and gold wedges.
Since I didn’t pack anything other than work and travel clothes, it’s the best I’ve been able to manage (along with cool tone make-up and a braided bun), although it’s actually perfect since I don’t want to be noticeable tonight.
I want to blend in with the crowd. It’s my only hope of dodging Leif.
‘I know.’ I feign a look of regret. ‘I packed in a hurry.’
‘Don’t worry. I brought a back-up.’ She rifles in her suitcase. ‘We’re about the same size. Here, try this.’
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ My eyes widen as they take in the one-shouldered, dark purple bodycon dress she’s holding out to me. It’s gorgeous, but … definitely noticeable. ‘I don’t want to stretch it.’
‘You won’t, and this colour will look great on you.’
I’m too tired to think of any more excuses so I change quickly and then head downstairs with her into a ginormous, crowded ballroom.
Merchandising have gone all out here too.
The walls are streaming with Rask banners and the waiters are all dressed in racing overalls.
Suddenly I feel grateful to Emika for not taking no for an answer.
There are so many glamorous outfits that I would have been more noticeable in my plain one.
‘You know, if someone had told me in May that we’d be hosting a party like this by October, I would never have believed them.’ Emika swipes a pair of champagne flutes off a tray. ‘We’ve come so far this season! If we keep it up, we could be real contenders for the podium next year.’
‘I hope so,’ I murmur, though I’m distracted, looking for Leif. There’s no sign of him yet, but he must be here.
‘Hey, ladies …’ Yuto appears through the crowd, stopping briefly to give us a twirl in his burgundy suit. ‘What do you think? Pretty hot, right?’
‘Scorching.’ I give him a thumbs-up, then drink half the contents of my champagne flute in one go. It’s probably not a good idea on top of nerves and an empty stomach, but I feel like I need it.
‘So, Vienna wants us to mingle and tell everyone how excited we are about Quinn,’ Yuto says. ‘And if we stop smiling for even a second, we’re all fired.’
‘Got it. Hey, have you met Quinn yet?’ Emika asks. ‘She was in a meeting with her race engineer when I went to find her earlier.’
‘Yeah, she’s over there talking to one of our IT sponsors.’ Yuto points to the opposite side of the room. ‘Come on, I’ll introduce you.’
‘Great. You coming?’ Emika looks back over her shoulder at me.
‘Not right now.’ I wave them away. ‘You go. I’ll mingle.’
I drink some more champagne and try to pull myself together.
I can see some representatives from another of our sponsors, a financial services company, a few feet away.
I should probably go and reintroduce myself.
Plus, there’s a scattering of journalists I want to thank for supporting us when the Philip Sawyer article came out.
I just need to get my professional face on and –
‘Ava?’
I jolt and turn around slowly, my skin prickling at the sound of Leif’s voice. He’s standing an arm’s length away, dressed in a classic black tuxedo and looking so handsome, I’m pretty sure my heart actually stops.
‘Leif …’ I swallow. ‘Hi.’
‘Hi.’ He holds on to my gaze, his own guarded.
I say the first thing that comes into my mind. ‘I’ve missed you.’
I know that I’m being a hypocrite, that I’m the one who’s been avoiding him, but I still mean it.
Looking at Leif now, I realize just how unhappy I’ve been for the past two months.
Part of me wants to throw my arms around him, only we’re surrounded by hundreds of people, and even if we weren’t, I can’t. We need to talk first.
‘Have you?’ He sounds suspicious. Hurt.
I give a jerky nod. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been –’
‘Busy.’ His voice hardens.
‘Yes. It’s complicated, but it’s not –’
‘ Don’t .’ His eyes flash. ‘Don’t say “It’s not you, it’s me”.’
‘I wasn’t going to,’ I lie. ‘I was going to say that it’s not what you think.’
‘Then tell me what it is.’ He closes the distance between us, his gaze laser-focused. ‘Ava, I’ve been going out of my mind. What happened? Why did you stop answering my calls?’
I throw a quick look around. The tension between us is obvious and people – worse, journalists – are beginning to notice. ‘Leif, I can’t talk about it here,’ I say quietly. ‘Not now. We’re making a scene.’
‘Then let’s go to my room.’
‘We can’t .’ Despite everything, a shiver of excitement snakes its way down my spine.
The thought of being alone with him is so tempting, but if we end up in bed together, things will be even more confusing.
‘You need to be here, representing the team, especially now Corey’s out of action. We’ll talk after the race.’
‘Ava!’ I hear Emika’s voice. ‘Look who I found.’
I take a step away from Leif. She’s walking towards us, arm in arm with a petite, dark-haired woman in an elegant, floor-length black dress.
‘Hi.’ The woman holds out a hand with a smile. ‘I’m Quinn.’
‘Good to meet you.’ I shake her hand and try to smile back, but my facial muscles are stiff and I feel like every part of my body is straining towards Leif. He’s standing right beside me, so close I can feel his body heat on my bare shoulder.
‘You’re friends with Maisie and Gio, right?’ Quinn has a soft Scottish accent. ‘I’m so grateful to them both. I had some problems when I first joined Fraser, but they’ve been so wonderful and supportive.’
‘They’re a great couple.’ I manage to smile properly this time. She sounds genuine, like she’d be horrified if she knew she’d caused any angst for them. ‘And the whole team at Rask is ready to support you too.’
‘They already are. I was pretty intimidated coming here, but everyone’s been so nice. I’m feeling a lot better now.’
‘I’ll drink to that.’ Emika lifts her champagne flute. ‘Does that mean you’re ready to score us some points this weekend?’
Quinn laughs. ‘Fingers crossed.’
I turn my head towards Leif, but he’s staring at the floor, frowning, not joining in with the conversation.
He’s behaving just as he did on the evening we first met in Monaco, only this time I’m the one at fault.
Because I’ve done this to him. And I’m still doing it.
And it’s not just about us any more. What I’m doing is affecting the whole team.
‘Leif. Quinn.’ Vienna appears suddenly, accompanied by a tall, silver-haired man. ‘Have you met Helmut Moran? He owns our favourite frozen yogurt company.’
I take the opportunity to break away. I’ll probably get in trouble for it later, but I can’t stay here, networking and pretending that everything’s all right. I’ll have to tell Vienna I got sick, after all.
I practically sprint for the exit. This is going to be a long few days.