Chapter 10
COOLDOWN LAP: SLOWER LAP TO RESET TIRES: ONE WEEK LATER
Location: Las Vegas
Tonight, I won’t just be visible as Lewis Porter’s daughter. Instead, I’m going to own that ballroom as the newest consultant for Apex Orion Racing.
On the flight, I reviewed everything I’ve built into the prototype. I can’t help but wonder if Leo is ripping his hair out. His telemetry logs and input latency must be causing significant problems he can only correct from behind the wheel.
By the time we descend, I know the solution I’ve developed should solve half the problems they’re having out of the box. The rest I’ll fix when I see it fail in person.
Because it will.
There’s no doubt about it.
By the time I reach my father’s home, memories of the time we spent here while he raced in the Las Vegas Grand Prix hum through my veins.
I recall neon lights shooting into the sky.
Engines screaming down the Strip like the city itself was powered by E10 fuel.
I remember my mother holding my hand as I pointed out everything.
Leaning against the window overlooking my father’s private track, I can practically feel her in the room with me.
“Mama, this is incredible!”
She wraps an arm around my waist, hugging me tightly. “I know, Pumpkin.”
“I’ve never seen the Strip like this.”
“Few have.”
“Will Dad even be able to find us after the race in this madhouse?”
She leans over to murmur in my ear so I can hear her over the noise. “Don’t you worry, Pumpkin. Your father will always find his way home to us.”
I beam at her before wrapping an arm around her waist and squeezing back.
Little did any of us know her body would succumb to uterine cancer two years after that. What used to astound me—the bright dazzle of an F1 event—faded without her by my side. Still, I can’t help but feel a pull to Vegas because of it.
But just like that, my trip down memory lane ends, replaced by the present. By the weight of why I’m here and who I’m here for.
My phone lights up. I grin when I see Maya, Amy, and Emery are video calling.
I press the green check and, immediately, their faces fill the screen. I drawl, “I’m always astounded that one small device can survive our chaos.”
“There she is!” Maya announces like she’s hosting a live broadcast from her home in Italy.
Emery leans closer to her camera, squinting at me. “Zoom in. I need to assess your initial emotional damage.”
I lift the phone so she can see the profile of my nose. “Does that work?”
Amy tilts her head. “Have you resorted to nostril modeling?”
Emery adds, “At least your nostrils aren’t flaring.”
“Which is concerning to me,” Maya cuts in.
“Why?”
“Typically, when you’re composed, someone’s life is radically about to change,” Maya surmises.
I snort despite myself. Then I spy a basket. Moving toward it, I grin when I see my father had his housekeeper leave me a basket of Jean-Marie Auboine chocolate.
Pumpkin,
It’s Vegas. Indulge.
Love,
Dad
I announce, “My dad rocks.”
“Like we didn’t know that.” Emery rolls her eyes.
I flip my phone’s camera around. “This is what he left for me at the house.”
My friends immediately begin to boo and hiss at the exclusive delicacies waiting for me. Maya makes a grabby motion. “Now is the time to share.”
“You want me to ship some of my gift to you in Italy?”
“Yes!”
I snort. “Not a chance.”
Amy drags a finger slowly from the corner of her eye down her cheek, mimicking a tear. “Despite our chocolate envy?”
Emery’s voice is woeful when she agrees with Amy. “It’s a real thing.”
I pretend to give it thought before stating, “I’ll send you each some.”
Amy brightens. “Promise?”
“Yes. When I have time,” I caution.
Maya hums, “I suspect you’ll tear through that basket the moment you start working.”
“Isn’t that the truth.” I eye the ginormous basket sadly. “What’s worse is I can’t break into it until after the gala.”
Maya frowns. “Why not?”
“I’m worried I won’t fit into my dress.”
Amy cackles. “Good to know you have priorities.”
“What are you wearing to—” Emery stops herself. “Hold on, can we clarify if this is just a gala or a way to make a certain F1 driver drown in regret?”
I send them a photo from when I tried it on back in New York. They all ooh and ahh. “Mainly a gala.”
“But you’re not rejecting the fact that Leo’s balls will twist when he sees you around other men wearing that?” Amy smirks.
I chuckle. “That’s a side benefit.”
“One which should be exploited,” Maya smirks.
“Seriously though. Too many people will recognize me because of who my father was to the sport. I can’t hide from that.”
“You’ll look beautiful,” Emery announces.
Amy jokes, “We expect a play-by-play of your lavish lifestyle.”
I roll my eyes.
Maya raises her hand. “I don’t care if I only see the inside of your purse. I’d prefer to eavesdrop.”
We all break into laughter before Amy murmurs, “Talk to us. Tell us what you’re feeling.”
Maya leans forward dramatically. “Okay, first, let’s address the obvious. You’re officially working with Apex Orion Racing.”
“Boo. Hiss,” Emery adds, making a thumbs-down gesture. Then she asks, “Is it wrong if I start cheering for Red Bull to kick Apex’s ass?”
I shout, “Yes! I’m going to give up most of the year fixing Apex’s problems. Root for me!”
Amy’s face is thoughtful. “That means we’re rooting for Leo to win.”
I scrub a hand over my face. “Yes.”
Maya makes a gagging noise. “I still cannot believe this man doesn’t know who you are.”
“Right?” Emery cuts in. “Like, sir, you dated our friend, but did you get to know her?”
Amy starts solemnly, “I’d date you…” before an off-screen squawk makes it clear that her live-in boyfriend is eavesdropping.
A laugh slips out of me before I can stop it. I shout, “Don’t like the competition, Bren?”
His laughter in the background is my only response.
Emery shouts triumphantly. “There it is! That’s what we’re here for!”
“Moral support,” Amy agrees.
“I’ve got plenty of fields to hide his body,” Maya offers.
“There’s no need. His words were just…unwelcome.”
Emery fires back. “Babe, he totally deserved being booted out of your life.”
While I agree, I can’t help but think of all the nights I’ve thought of him since we broke up. I remember the warmth of his body lying against mine and hate that my first instinct still isn’t anger but missing him.
Amy’s voice pulls me back in. “Are you ready to talk about it yet?”
I think about that moment and break it down slowly in my head. Instead of dismissal, all I recall is Leo’s shock, horror, and immediate regret. “You saw his email. He knew he messed up.”
Maya scoffs. “Good. I hope it keeps him up at night.”
“It will,” Emery says confidently. “Men like to think we spiral, but they’re the ones who can’t handle something simple.”
“I bet he stares at his ceiling questioning all his life choices,” Amy adds. “Though that isn’t your responsibility.”
I nod, even though my heart still aches. Shoring myself up, I tell them, “Besides, I’m here for the work, not Leo.”
“And what work it is,” Maya picks up that I want to change the topic immediately. “I had no idea F1 has a spaceship-like steering wheel.”
“That they do.”
Maya wonders, “So, they broke something and need your massive brain to fix their problem?”
I laugh at the description. “Essentially.” Then I give them more details about what I’ve been doing.
Emery whistles. “So, what you’re really saying is Leo isn’t good with toys.”
“It’s more like the toy is malfunctioning. Not that he can’t handle it,” I correct.
Amy smirks. “Figures.”
Emery says quietly, “If he approaches you—”
“When!” Both Amy and Maya chirp.
Emery goes on, “Then you decide whether it’s worth listening to.”
Their support steadies me. “Okay.”
Maya squints at me again. “Also, an important question...”
“What?”
“Do you still have feelings for him?”
“Maya,” Amy scolds.
“What? I’m asking for context. We need to know how to support her. Do we encourage her to hack his life and destroy it?” Maya argues.
Emery picks up. “Or do we support her as she’s working through her emotions?”
I press my lips together before admitting, “How am I supposed to turn them off? I was in love with him.”
Emery’s loyalty shines through. “Say the word and we’ll be there.”
Amy agrees. “We’ve got your back, Christin.”
“Always,” Maya echoes.
My chest tightens—but in a good way this time. “I know.”
Maya points at the screen. “Text us after the gala. We want a full report.”
Amy agrees, “With pictures of you looking dramatically gorgeous.”
“And details about his regret,” Emery says.
I can’t help but laugh at their antics. “Deal.”
“Go be brilliant,” Maya orders.
“Show them who’s the girl boss,” Emery says.
Amy recommends, “Just be you. The rest will fall into place.”
Shortly after, the call ends. The room is quiet, but it doesn’t feel as heavy. I glance toward the window where the neon glow of Vegas pulses against the glass.
It’s always a spectacle, but tomorrow it turns into a proving ground.
A place for me to prove I’m no shrinking violet.