Chapter 27 #3
‘There have been talks,’ she concedes. ‘I never told you because I didn’t want this to be one more thing that came between you and your dad in case it went wrong. Plus, you’ve had all the baby stuff to deal with. I didn’t want to take the focus off how exciting that is.’
I relax a bit at her reasoning, glad she didn’t drag me into a negotiation that’s probably been messy at best and downright ugly at worst. ‘I get it,’ I tell her. ‘But . . . why Specter?’
She shrugs, like she’s not fully sure but is going along with it anyway. ‘It’s what Thomas wants, and they’re looking for a new second driver. Raphael’s not performing well and his contract’s up this season.’
I frown, a little taken aback that a driver with Thomas’s talent would so readily accept being second to Axel. ‘And he’s okay with being Raphael’s replacement?’
‘Better than staying at McMorris and being treated like shit for barely anything in return.’
I suppose I can see her point, even though the barely anything in return she speaks of is still several million dollars a year.
At least at Specter Energy, if they keep up the trend of designing spectacular cars, he has a better chance at being on the podium or even winning the odd grand prix if Axel ever has a bad weekend.
And without Zaid in the equation next season, every driver will have a better chance at glory, more so for the ones at top teams.
There’s going to be a power vacuum when Zaid leaves.
I can’t think of a single driver who can fill his shoes, no one who currently lives up to his legacy.
And I don’t have a clue who Mascort will put in his place when he finally tells them he’s retiring, but it’s a spot plenty of drivers will be fighting for.
Thomas could be one of those drivers – if he doesn’t sign with Specter Energy first.
Part of me wants to tell Edith to have him hold out, to wait a little longer to see what comes up, but it’s not my secret to share or situation to meddle in, no matter how much I want to.
But she seems to know I’m holding back, and when she offers me a small, wry smile, I get the feeling she’s already figured it out.
‘Zaid’s retiring at the end of the season, isn’t he?’ she says, but it’s more a statement than a question.
I fight to keep my expression neutral, but my heart has found its way into my throat. ‘I don’t know what you’re—’
She holds a hand up to stop me. ‘You don’t need to confirm it, keep the plausible deniability.
I only guessed because of how you talk about the future.
’ I make to protest, but she stops me again.
‘Don’t worry, you’ve been good about not actually spilling anything, but I know you, Ava.
If Zaid wasn’t going to be around to help you raise the baby, you’d be doing things very differently. ’
I want to argue, but it’s a moot point because she’s already seen right through me. ‘Who else knows?’ I ask weakly.
‘No one,’ she says firmly, and I believe her. ‘I won’t be telling anyone either. I certainly didn’t say anything to your dad, I’m not that daft.’ She pauses, her smile turning sheepish, and I freeze in response because Edith is never sheepish. ‘Can I confess something, though?’
‘What did you do?’ I hedge, fearing the worst.
She clutches her hands demurely in front of herself. ‘During my chat with your father, I may have gone off on him about how he’s been treating you.’
My jaw goes slack. ‘You didn’t. How was that supposed to help Thomas get a seat there? You could have jeopardized a deal!’
‘And if I had, it would have been worth it,’ she tosses back. ‘I love my brother – don’t you ever tell him I said that – but I love you too. There are people willing to fight for your happiness, you know.’
There’s a lump growing in my throat that I can’t seem to swallow past. ‘Edith—’
‘And as it turns out,’ she goes on, ‘I wasn’t the first person to yell at him about it. He told me Zaid had words for him too.’
I was nearly speechless before, but I certainly am now. She doesn’t seem to mind, though, her grin losing all of its self-consciousness and turning cheeky as she puts a hand on my shoulder.
‘Now that you know what’s going on,’ she says, backing me toward the door, ‘let’s get you back to your man.’
When I return to where Zaid is – after a trip to the bathroom and a pit stop at the bar to live vicariously through Edith as she chugs a glass of champagne – he’s surrounded by a small crowd of people, including a stunning Singaporean actress who’s regaling the group with a story.
I’m a few feet away, lingering on the edge of the crowd, but Zaid still looks over as if he can sense I’m there.
Our eyes catch and the smile that lights up his face makes my chest ache in the best way.
He’s quick to excuse himself from the group and stride my way, his touch immediately finding my waist to pull me to him.
‘You were gone too long,’ he murmurs, dipping his head to press a quick kiss to my lips, as if that short time apart left him wanting. ‘Everything okay?’
I nod and steal another kiss, this one lingering, and I hope he can feel my love and gratitude in it. ‘Yeah,’ I breathe out. ‘Everything is perfect.’