Now #3
Wesley and I exchange a grin, amused by her professional tone. “In all seriousness, though, you plan on winning this one as well, right?”
“I haven’t lost in Monaco in five years.”
He chuckles with unmasked satisfaction. “So, we’re on our way to our eighth win in eight races. It has to be a new record.”
“It will be for me, which is the only thing that really matters, isn’t it? As the best racer in the world, and everything.”
This time, he laughs frankly. “You were always so confident. Even all those years ago in Vegas … You promised you’d get me more trophies than my shelves could hold. And you should see my trophy room … It’s overflowing with them.”
“I take it you don’t regret your investment?”
“Are you kidding? I’d rather lose my entire company than you and your golden touch, Jackson.”
The flight attendant arrives with two glasses of champagne, which she hands to us. “The plane will leave in five minutes, sir.”
Wes nods, and she returns to the front of the cabin.
“I still have it, you know?” he says after taking a long sip.
“Have what?”
“That red binder.”
“You do?”
“Yes. It’s in the trophy room. It’s what started it all, so it belongs there.”
I nod, turning my attention to the tarmac outside as the plane taxis to the takeoff strip.
The trip we took to Vegas really started it all.
Thanks to Evie’s boldness and perfect aim, we got the audience we so terribly needed.
I still remember the feeling of success that stayed with me for weeks afterward.
This was it. We were out of the woods. I was going to become a Formula One driver after all.
How naive of me to have thought that … But how was I meant to know the hardest part, our biggest challenge, was yet to come?
“I’ve been wondering,” he randomly starts, “the girl who threw the binder at me. The one you married.”
“Evangeline.”
“Right. What happened between you two? I can’t imagine she left you. Not with the way she was so vigorously involved in your success and career.”
“And yet …”
“So, she did … When was that?”
“During my second Formula 2 season.”
“So, right before the good part. Wait, now that you mention it … You took a couple of months off during that year, didn’t you?”
Maybe tagging along with him wasn’t such a great idea, after all. I appreciate the comfortable opulence of his personal plane, but I’m not enjoying this game of twenty-one questions.
“For personal reasons, yes.”
“So that was it? That was for your separation?”
“No. It was for something else,” I reply. I put enough gravitas into my voice to avoid any follow-up questions, and it seems to work.
The plane is now in position, and we’re instructed to fasten our seatbelts. About three minutes later, we’re airborne.
Wesley, per usual, uses this time to make a few phone calls, and I mindlessly stare at the clouds below us, lost in my thoughts.
I haven’t gotten to see Evie since that night we spent together. When I messaged her about joining me in Monaco, she responded with a vague answer, explaining it might be too complicated for her. With the European season about to start, I will have even fewer opportunities to return to Colorado.
I have to.
It’s been five days since I last saw her, and I already miss her. How will I handle these two months?
Maybe she’ll change her mind. It’s not like there’s that much to do during the summer break in our home state. She’ll let it simmer for a while and realize this is a golden opportunity. And not just to spend time with me, but to explore Europe.
I heard some of what she told my mother.
Her insecurities, her reluctance. I know I hurt her, and I understand why she’s so scared I’ll do it again.
Something broke between us back then. And with the years, the crack has only gotten deeper, harder to fix.
But I’m tenacious, and no matter how long it takes, I’ll find a way to mend us.
That’s why I’ve given her all the incentives I could think of to join me. Now, the decision rests in her hands.
Actually, there’s one more thing I could do to encourage her to come join me.
I unbuckle myself and walk to Madeline in the back. “Hey, could you do me a massive favor?” I ask, low enough for Wes not to hear.
“Of course, dear. What do you need?”
“Can you get some plane tickets for me? Open date, I’m not sure when they’ll be used.”
“Sure thing. From where to where?”
“From Denver to … let’s say Milan. It’ll be easy to have a connection anywhere in Europe.”
“Oh, is it for one of your parents?”
“Actually, no. It’s for my—for a friend.”
“It’s the first time I heard you mention a friend from your old life,” she notes with surprise.
“You actually met her.”
“I did?”
“Yeah, a long time ago.”
“I see. Well, forward her information to me, and I’ll get this sorted.”
“Thank you, Madeline. You’re a peach.” She waves a dismissive hand and resumes her typing.
I feel a little more optimistic as I return to my seat. Now that she’ll have the plane tickets, Evie is more likely to accept my offer. She’s stubborn, but not to the point where she’d look a gift horse in the mouth, is she?
Only time will tell.