Chapter 27 #2
Sloane paused just inside the doorway, the bakery bag rustling softly in her grip.
“Well,” she said lightly, forcing a smile. “Someone looks like she’s about to be late for her own life.”
Reese turned off the hair dryer and met her gaze in the mirror before turning fully around. There was an apology in her eyes before she even spoke.
“Hey,” Reese said. “God, that smells incredible.”
“Bread oasis,” Sloane said. “You should see this little place. I was hoping we could—”
“I know.” Reese crossed the room and kissed her quickly, warmly, but with momentum still pulling her forward. “I wanted that too. I really did.”
Sloane’s stomach sank, just a little.
“What’s up?”
Reese exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “Shanelle texted while you were gone. She wants to see me. Now-ish. Go over a few things from yesterday.” She hesitated, then added, “I told her we were having a morning, and she told me to bring you along.”
“Oh. Well, that was nice of her.” Sloane tightened her fingers around the paper bag, the warmth seeping into her palms.
“Right?” Reese ran her fingers through her hair and gave it a final look.
“Okay,” Sloane said, after a beat. “Then we’ll go.”
Reese searched her face. “You sure?”
Sloane lifted the bag slightly, managing a small smile. “We’ll bring croissants. If we’re about to have a serious debrief with a higher-up, at least we’ll be armed.”
Reese laughed, relief flashing across her features, and leaned in to rest her forehead against Sloane’s. Just for a second.
“I’m really glad you’re coming with me,” she said softly. “And you look really hot in this white zip.”
“Thank you.” Sloane closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of Reese and butter and morning all at once, and held onto the delicate, stubborn belief she’d found in that little bakery, that maybe, somehow, everything just might be okay.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a driver bring breakfast before,” Shanelle Laurens said, as she peered into the bag and helped herself to a plain croissant.
“Well, then you’ve been working with the wrong drivers,” Sloane said with a wink.
She looked behind her to the office door.
“And if you’d rather speak with Reese privately, I can bother Jesse out front.
He used to tease me about my hair peeking out of my helmet when I finished a race, and I’d be happy to pick on him a little while you two debrief. ”
Shanelle scoffed. “Sloane, you and I go way back, and you’re a bigger help in this room than out of it. We both know that.”
Reese raised a brow from her seat across from Shanelle’s desk.
“Then I guess I’ll stay,” Sloane said, taking a seat in the chair next to Reese’s.
“I think you had a fantastic first race yesterday,” Shanelle said. “Everyone was impressed, from the press to the team of owners to the pit crew cheering you on.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Reese said, lighting up. “It was a day I’ll never forget, and I’m honored that I was given the chance to drive for Laurens.”
Shanelle paused and adjusted her posture before addressing them both. “I don’t know if you saw the comment Marco made online overnight, but I want to make it clear that it doesn’t reflect our team culture and it’s been addressed.”
Reese looked at Sloane and back to Shanelle, uneasy. “I haven’t been online much since the race.”
Sloane frowned. “No, me neither. What did he post?” She already felt her defenses flaring on Reese’s behalf because that fucking guy.
Shanelle slid a print capture of a post across the desk. Reese picked up the sheet of paper, stared for a minute, and then passed it to Sloane without saying a word.
@F1poletoflag:
History made. Reese Maddox becomes the first woman in years to score points in Formula 1.
@MarcoFaz:
Amazing what happens when the rules bend for a good storyline. Guess crashing out so the female marketing experiment can cruise to a P9 is just part of the show now.
Sloane shook her head, her anger rising the longer she processed. “Classy guy.”
“I’m going to guess he was having a hard time with the results,” Reese said diplomatically. Big of her.
“He deleted the post ten minutes later,” Shanelle said, “but it was too late. Screenshots are everywhere. Racing fans are weighing in this morning.”
“I’m sure in both directions.” Reese shook her head. “I think that’s my cue to stay off the internet this morning.”
“What happens to Marco?” Sloane asked, hoping for nothing less than being fed to a hungry hippopotamus in a remote jungle.
“Well, it’s been a string of incidents with Marco, and we feel it’s probably time to move on.
Which brings me to the real reason we’re here.
How would you feel about stepping in, Reese?
” Shanelle placed one hand over the other and waited.
Sloane blinked. Was she asking what it seemed like she was asking?
“Filling in for Marco? I don’t understand,” Reese said. “How would I fill in for both Ezra and Marco?”
“There were a lot of phone calls this morning. A true flurry, if I’m being honest. But everyone was of the same opinion. We’d like to offer you Marco’s seat for the rest of the season.”
The room went quiet.
“For the rest of the season,” Reese said carefully. “In Formula 1.”
Shanelle nodded. “Yes.”
Reese leaned back in her chair and exhaled slowly. Processing. “You’re serious?”
“I wouldn’t insult you by floating it otherwise,” Shanelle said. “You proved yesterday that you belong on that grid. You raced smart. You adapted. And you finished in the points without putting the car, or anyone else, at risk.”
Reese’s gaze slid sideways to Sloane.
She attempted to contain her emotion for Reese’s benefit. But excitement flashed within her, bright and undeniable, followed by something quieter. Fear.
“That’s a massive leap,” Reese said. “Midseason. New engineers. New expectations.”
“And more eyes,” Sloane added softly.
Reese nodded. “Yeah. That too.”
“I won’t pretend otherwise,” Shanelle said. “You’ll be scrutinized in ways Ezra never was and Marco never had to be. But I also won’t pretend you aren’t ready. And you wouldn’t be doing this alone.”
Her gaze moved to Sloane.
“We’d want Sloane involved,” Shanelle continued. “Publicly. Strategically. As support and mentorship. The paddock knows her. They trust her. That matters.”
Sloane’s heart gave a hard thump. She’d known this was coming, had prepared herself for it, but hearing it said out loud was something else entirely.
“When would this start?” Reese asked.
“Next race,” Shanelle said. “You’d test immediately. We’d announce within forty-eight hours.”
This was everything Reese had worked for. It was also the thing Sloane had been dreading since the first time she’d watched her drive.
Sloane nodded along, professional and seemingly present, but didn’t trust herself to speak.
Forty-eight hours. Flights. Briefings. Headlines. The way Reese’s life would compress and accelerate all at once.
“I’d need a few days to get ready,” Reese said finally. “To see my friends as we’d planned. To get my head on straight. To call my family.”
Shanelle smiled respectfully. “Of course. You’ve earned that.”
Reese blew out a breath. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
“I’ll talk to your agent and get the paperwork together. I have a feeling this is going to be a fruitful partnership, Reese,” Shanelle said.
“I really think so, too. I won’t let you down.”
Sloane reached over and squeezed Reese’s knee. Just once. A silent show of support.
Sloane kept her hand where it was, light and supportive. She let Reese have the moment without adding her own weight to it.
There would be time later to reckon with what this meant.
Forty-eight hours.
Sloane held on to Reese and tried not to think about how fast everything was about to move, and how Reese was already slipping through her fingers into a world that Sloane simply could not follow.