Chapter 34 #2
It reminds me of when we were younger and got to take part in building our first go-kart together. Harry and I grew up not too far apart from one another. His father and mine were friends. More like, my father won his father a lot of money since he was part owner of Amato Racing at that time.
We grew up together, went to the same schools, and eventually raced together.
Harry never went beyond go-karting, though, and became more interested in the business side of the sport. Until he and his dad took a ski trip when he was twenty-one years old. A wrong turn on a snowmobile down a mountain cost his father his life and Harry’s ability to walk.
“Did you build this?”
His smirk widens to a grin.
“I helped a little but more so got involved with the team that’ll be racing it. It’ll debut this season.” His eyes light up in obvious pride.
“Are you looking for an agent job?” I joke but it doesn’t feel like much of a joke.
He cocks his head. “Edwin not living up to the role?”
“Edwin’s fine,” I answer, half-heartedly. “But you still love this and have a head for the business side of things.” I hesitate before continuing. “They’re asking me to drive my father’s car in Sao Paolo.”
Lifting an eyebrow, Harry whistles. “It’s about time they asked.”
I chuckle. “They’ve asked every year since I began in Formula 1.”
He nods. “You turned them down.”
“I have.”
“But now you’re considering it?”
“What do you think?” I ask.
He looks out onto the rest of the garage, considering. “I think you’ve always been afraid of living in your father’s shadow.” He lifts his shoulders. “Never made sense to me, mate. You’ve always had your own light.”
I take in what he’s saying. Harry might not understand it completely, but his father was a big name on the business side of motorsport, who also passed away tragically. He probably understands me a lot better now than when we were kids.
“I think it would be amazing for you and your fans to see you step into your own by taking them up on their offer … and by winning a championship this season,” he adds, grinning.
“Constructor’s Championship?”
“That one, too.”
We chuckle and slap palms.
Harry tilts his head to look up at me. “I’ve fucking missed you.”
“Me too. After the accident …” I pause as he blows out a heavy sigh.
“I didn’t want to see anyone,” he says, eyes not meeting mine. “I pushed you away, Max. Not the other way around.”
“That’s not an excuse for why I stayed away. You were hurting. You’d lost your father and …” My eyes drop to the wheels of his chair. “So much.”
“My mind,” he adds, chuckling. “After the accident, I fell into a depression and felt sorry for myself. I spent too much time drinking and angry at the world. I pushed you and everyone who cared about me, even my mum, away. That’s not on you, mate. It’s on me.”
His comments ease some of the guilt but not all of it. I could’ve tried harder to be there for him, but I was too concerned with my own career.
“Let’s head to the track,” he suggests. “Do you still love it?”
“I grew up on these tracks,” I tell Harry as we approach the track where a group of kids probably ages eight to ten years old laugh around their go-karts at the starting line. Among them, I make out Annalise and the employee from earlier talking with the children.
“They raised me,” I continue. “Few places I’d rather be on a Sunday afternoon than at the starting line.”
“Maybe the finish line?”
I chuckle. “No, the start of a race will always be my favorite. The roar of the engine, tension in the air, and the only thing louder than the silence is the thunder of my heartbeat.”
Harry makes a noise, drawing my attention to him.
“You’ve become a poet.”
“Been reading Shakespeare.”
Harry lets out a guffaw. “No way, mate.”
I roll my eyes and without thought my attention goes back to Annalise.
“You failed Mr. Whitlaw’s unit on Shakespeare.”
“I didn’t fail,” I retort.
“Barely passed,” he grumbles.
“Whitlaw was as entertaining as watching paint dry.”
He snorts. “True. I gander you’ve found more entertaining methods to keep you interested in literature.”
I look down at Harry, who’s staring at me while I watch Annalise.
“The children will be starting soon. Care to watch?”
I follow him to the seating area where a few parents and some coaching staff are seated. Today’s not a real race or anything, just a few practice sessions, Harry tells me.
“You’ve always loved this,” he says a few minutes after the first group of children take off in their karts.
I continue to watch Annalise stand in the middle of the field, arms raised and cheering. I’m too far away to hear which child she’s rooting for, but knowing her, I’d put money on the fact that she’s cheering all of them on.
God, I love her.
“What did you say?” Harry laughs and looks toward Annalise. “Have you told her yet?”
I frown.
“That you’re in love with her.”
“Yes,” I say proudly.
“Well done, mate.” He chuckles
I do as well but a shadow soon falls over my smile. “Loyalty is important to her.”
“Loyalty?” he repeats.
“To her family.”
He nods. “And to you?”
I snort. “I don’t know if anyone has ever been loyal to me,” I say bluntly.
This is a fact of my life I’ve hesitated in recognizing.
But being this deeply in love with Annalise has made avoiding it more and more impossible.
Very few people in my personal or professional life have ever shown me loyalty.
Motorsport is a highly competitive business.
Everyone from my team principal to the team owners want one thing: results.
My father was the first one to tell me that as a child.
He’d spent the better part of his career at Amato, and received much praise and accolades for his loyalty.
However, he knew, better than anyone, that the team’s commitment only went so far as long as he was performing for them.
There was always a new, younger racer eager to prove themself, waiting in the wings.
In my personal life, women were interested in me because of my name or my station. It was cool being on the arm of Severino Ferreira’s son or the hot driver at Kr?mer or whatever other team I raced for.
The lifestyle of fast cars, late nights in the flashiest cities and sites around the world, and access to some of the wealthiest people in the world, was the appeal, not me.
“You’re selling yourself short,” Harry says.
I hadn’t meant to speak all of my thoughts out loud.
He turns back to Annalise, who looks up at us and waves before she goes over to clap for and cheer for the children who’ve just finished their first race.
“You’re more than your father’s legacy. And your mother’s bullshit.” He looks me square in the eye. Apart from Annalise, Harry is the only other person who’s been a witness to my mother’s darker side when it comes to me.
“I know that,” I say honestly. I don’t see myself through the lens of either of my parents or my past relationships.
Still, it’s difficult to discern if and when someone is here for me and me alone.
“I doubt you have to worry about that with her.” He gestures toward Annalise, who’s headed our way.
“Hey, did you see that?” she asks, breathless but grinning from ear to ear.
The sight of her smile lights my entire chest up.
“They’re amazing. Randall in the green and white kart is going to give you a run for your money in about seven to eight years.” Annalise slaps my knee as she plops down beside me.
I pull her into my side with my arm slung over her shoulders.
“You think so, huh?” I narrow my eyes at the little bugger.
“He’s one of our stars.” Harry nods in approval. “You still have some time to leave your name in the history books,” he adds.
“His name is already in the history books.”
Harry and I both look at Annalise, who said this so casually and confidently.
“What?”
“I haven’t won a championship.”
“Yet,” she says like it's inevitable.
I want to ask if she truly believes it, but I know how damn needy that would sound. Plus, when I look in her eyes, all of the doubts in my mind fall away. She believes it, which in turn makes me believe it on a deeper level than I’ve ever given myself permission to believe before.
When I catch Harry’s gaze, his eyes glint in a way that say ‘I told you so.’