Chapter 7
STINT: PERIOD BETWEEN PIT STOPS: TWO MONTHS LATER
Location: New York City
My boss doesn’t waste time with platitudes.
Leanne Miles, CEO of one of the world’s preeminent software companies, knows her time is valuable. Though she frequently jokes with her team that her time is best spent keeping a sharp eye on what her kids are doing online.
But today, she starts our meeting by sliding a tablet across the glass conference table and warning me, “You’re going to hate me for this assignment.”
I don’t reach for it immediately. “That’s a strong opening. Usually you build up to ruining my day.”
Leanne doesn’t smirk at my quip like I expect her to. She lifts her chin at the device. “Consider this an IOU for moral support.”
I glance down at the contract glowing on the screen. I freeze because I don’t need to scroll further. I recognize the client’s name immediately.
Apex Orion Racing
I lean back in my chair, crossing one leg over the other like this is just another Tuesday instead of a live test of how much I’ve learned from my heartbreak. “You’re right. I want nothing to do with it. Can’t you pass it to someone else?”
“You haven’t even heard the scope.”
“I don’t need the scope. I need a different client.”
“Sorry, that’s not happening.”
I glare at her, but it has absolutely no impact on her since she’s made of titanium. “Fine. Walk me through it.”
Leanne’s all business as she details the assignment. “Apex contracted us because their driver is having instability issues tied to steering wheel input latency and signal integrity under race conditions.”
Part of me wants to dramatically wipe my eyes at Leo’s difficulties, but I’m too intrigued by the assignment.
Scrolling to the appendices of the contract, I find confidential telemetry graphs.
Input lag spikes. Failover inconsistencies.
I frown. “This isn’t just latency. If these graphs are accurate, it will lead to cascading problems.”
Leanne agrees. “Apparently they need a full redesign.”
I tap through the specs. “Within constraints.”
“Obviously.”
“Your ‘obviously’ implies a lot of work on my part.”
Leanne isn’t affected by my antagonism. “And travel.”
I glare at her before listing, “Not only do I have to account for about three hundred different sensors, but I’ll also need to ensure they meet standard FIA regulations.
No driver aids beyond the permitted parameters.
No automated correction systems. No traction control, no stability management.
All input must remain driver originated. ”
“Sounds exactly like your kind of fun. Ballpark a timeline of how long this will take.”
“From here to eternity.”
She scowls at my snark.
I hold back a sigh. “Leanne, this is different.”
“Why? You’ve specced out a similar issue for NASA.”
“Because for NASA, I built everything from scratch. With the FIA regulations, I can’t base anything on assumptions without checking their rules. Certain items are fixed by default, and everything else is fully customizable.”
“Walk me through what this involves from your standpoint.”
“At a minimum? I’m looking at monitoring engine, tire, aero, and driver inputs. Not to mention the basics of tire pressure, temperature, brake wear and pressure, fuel flow, aerodynamic load, gear usage, g-forces, suspension movement, and engine RPMs. I can’t—nor will I—shortcut anything.”
“What are the kinds of things the FIA looks for?”
“Slipping in any hidden smoothing algorithms. Predictive correction layers. Everything has to be validated as manual input for integrity, so it’s not giving the team an edge.”
“Which means if the software fails, its failure will be publicly tied to us.”
“Yes.” I scroll further, faster now. Hardware mapping. Rotary encoders. Paddle inputs. “Just based on what I’m seeing, the interface is overloaded. Too many concurrent feeds on limited bandwidth.”
Leanne catches on swiftly. “They’ve layered complexity over old code instead of correcting it.”
“Most people do. It’s fiscally cheaper. They aren’t the first.”
“You and I both know that’s what happens when software engineers build for features instead of performance.”
“I suspect they also have inconsistencies creating ghost inputs at top speed.”
Leanne’s mouth curves slightly. “And you wonder why I assigned you to this?”
I pause, my reflection faint in the glass on the screen.
When I was in college, I interned with NASA as a systems engineer specializing in real-time predictive modeling and adaptive control systems. I’ve been lead architect on multiple high-performance interface projects where microsecond responsiveness determines outcome and safety.
Apex Orion doesn’t just want to hire someone smart. They’re desperate for someone who understands that precision isn’t optional—it’s survival.
Then, I hit the organizational structure and recognize a familiar name.
Team Director and Direct Supervisor—Dario Morretti
I don’t speak while I’m confirming the other critical members of the Apex team. Maybe my luck will hold and this is a second driver’s issue. That’s when I spy Leo’s name under a list of people who need to provide input into the design. A sigh escapes my lips.
Leanne probes, “Christin? Is there a problem?”
“Nothing. It’s fine.”
Something in my tone must alert Leanne to more. “With what they’re offering to pay us, I need to be certain.”
I give her a thin smile. “Aren’t you the one who once told me every assignment always has challenges?”
Leanne leans back slightly, studying me. “Why aren’t you jumping all over this assignment?”
There it is. No beating around the bush. I set the tablet down. “Apex’s lead driver…” I start before letting the rest of the sentence drift away because finishing it becomes about Leo and not about the assignment.
I lift my gaze back to the room, steadier now. “Someone who knows they’ve made mistakes.”
Leanne’s brow lifts. “You’ve handled worse.”
Right now, I’m not certain about that, but I give her the answer she wants. “Yes.”
Leanne tilts her head. “Was it personal?”
“I’m sorry?”
She rolls her eyes, like my hesitance is obvious. “The driver from Apex. Is he the one who hurt you?”
She’s so damn smart to pick up on the nuances to land on the answer I don’t want to discuss. “Maybe I just don’t like F1.”
Leanne hoots. “Right. Like that’s the case.”
I crinkle my nose at her, forgetting for just a moment that she knows everything about my background. I tap the tablet absentmindedly. “I’d normally tell them to go stuff it, but this isn’t just about optimization. If left unresolved, it could affect driver safety.”
“So, you’ll accept?”
“When do I leave?”
Leanne watches me for another second before informing me, “Three weeks.”
“When do I get access?”
“Limited once I sign the contract. Full when you get to the training site in Vegas.”
I stand, holding onto the tablet. “Send me full system access and current firmware builds. I want a chance to spot the problems before I step on-site.”
“You’ll get it.”
I turn toward the door. Her voice stops me. “Christin.”
I pause with my hand on the handle. “Yes?”
Leanne’s voice softens just slightly. “Heartbreak can compromise your work.”
“I haven’t let it yet.”
Then I saunter out.
I make it exactly twelve steps before spinning on my heel and changing direction.
I’m not sitting alone with the realization that, in three weeks, I’ll be smack-dab in the middle of Leo’s world.
Storming down a different corridor, I push open the door to my college roommate’s office without knocking.
Aio looks up from her screen, completely unfazed by my arrival. “What did Leanne want? You look like you just swallowed a melon whole.”
“Did you know?” I demand. Aio is Leanne’s second-in-command.
“About what?”
I close the door behind me so we can talk without being overheard. “I was assigned to a new contract.”
“That’s how it goes.”
I drop into the chair across from her desk and slide the tablet over. Unlocked. Because between Aio and me, there are no secrets.
She scrolls for approximately one second before her fingers still. “No way.”
“That’s exactly the reaction I had.”
“Apex Orion Racing?” she says. “As in your ex’s—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” I cut her off sharply.
She leans back, studying me. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to work.”
“On his team.”
“On their system,” I correct.
“Which he’ll have major input on,” she reminds me.
I tilt my head before a note of bitterness creeps into my voice. “Leanne should give you another promotion. I mean, you’re a champ at identifying the obvious.”
“How long has it been since you’ve spoken with Leo?”
“Three months. Two months since he sent me that email.”
She snorts. “Are you going to pretend you’ve emotionally purged yourself before you see him again?”
“Yes. Because what choice do I have?”
Aio taps the tablet. “Leo’s one of your key stakeholders.”
“Picking his brain for data isn’t opening myself back up for season two of ‘Bad Choices, starring Christin Porter.’”
“You don’t think being in his proximity is going to cause problems?”
I dismiss her premise. “It won’t be relevant.”
“Okay. Then tell me what you are going to do.”
I don’t hesitate. “My job.”
“I never doubted that. I meant what you’re going to do when you see Leo.”
“That’s the only answer that matters.” I cross my arms over my chest. “He said I would disappear. Let’s see how long that impression lasts.”
“Your attitude has always been a thing of beauty.” Then Aio snickers. “Can you imagine his reaction when he realizes who your father is?”
I shrug before admitting, “Dad never came up other than when I talked about my mom.”
“I wonder if you actually know more people in the industry than he does.”
“Likely. I mean, until Mama died, Dad was at the top of his game.” I blink rapidly, thinking about my mother’s passing. “I figured it out timewise. Dad retired a few years before Leo appeared on the circuit.”
We sit in silence for a few moments before Aio questions, “Are you going to be okay?”
“I have to be.”
Aio nods slowly. “I’ll believe you, but know if you need to not be, we have your back.”
I know by we, she’s referring not only to the team at Castor, but Maya, Amy, and Emery. The five of us have all known each other since our freshman year at Oklahoma Plains University.
I remind myself the sooner I get started, the sooner I can get back to the Leo-less life I was left in. Standing, I reach for the tablet. Once Aio hands it back to me, I announce, “I have a system to optimize.”
As I reach for the door handle, she calls out, “Christin?”
I glance over my shoulder. “Yes?”
“He’s going to feel stupid. May act that way as well.”
“So?”
“Remember, what he did is on him.”
I open my mouth and then snap it shut before walking out the door. In my head, I’m already thinking about the software. Mentally preparing timelines.
Emotionally, I’m preparing myself to see Leo again because it’s going to be vastly different from the last time we were in the same room.