Chapter 20
Travis
Me: Did you eat breakfast this morning?
I stare at the text message I sent Alyssia all of five minutes ago.
The Miami Grand Prix is today, and instead of heading out to meet my parents or answering my agent’s calls, I’m waiting to find out if Alyssia had breakfast. Today’s Sunday, so she isn’t working.
She’s chosen to work in the office for her first few weeks or months of employment just to get to know the staff better before working from home.
Every day I’m home during the week, I meet her at her metro stop with breakfast to make sure she eats. And to walk her to work. She often comes earlier than she needs in order to be able to walk past the marina.
I’ve never been much of a morning person, but lately it doesn’t feel like getting up early for our walk and talks is much a chore. In fact, I look forward to our walks.
But as I sit in my hotel room in Miami, wondering if she ate breakfast, I think I need to have my sister schedule breakfast delivery to Alyssia’s apartment on the days I’m not in town.
I reach for my phone to message my Annalise who’s here in Miami with me, but already went down to the paddock. However, a call from Norm comes in.
“Ready to win today?” he asks as soon as I answer.
“Always.” I run my hand through my hair and check my text again to see if Alyssia’s responded.
Maybe I should send her my gratitude list also.
Every morning on our walks, she tells me what was on her list, and I’ve gotten into the habit as well.
“After the race, there’re some people I want you to meet,” Norm says, catching my attention. “It’d be great if you could push your flight back until tomorrow. A few of my contacts are in town, and we can—”
“I can’t postpone my flight home,” I say before he can finish.
That would delay my seeing Alyssia after almost four days away. The tightness that pulls in my gut, at the thought, is strange, but it’s been happening a lot lately whenever I think about her.
“Travis, Miami’s always been a place where we do business. You’ve never had a problem staying longer for business before.”
Because I never had anything I was in a rush to get back to before.
The thought hits me like a car slamming into a metal barrier at two-hundred miles an hour.
I’m in a rush to get back home to see Alyssia.
“I can’t stay until tomorrow,” I say.
“Is there something going on? You’re not looking for a new agent, are you?” Norm asks. “Because if it has to do with my percentage, we can negotiate.”
“I’m having a baby.”
The phone goes quiet. I pull it away from my ear to make sure the call didn’t drop. He’s still there.
“A kid?”
The tone of his voice has my back going vertical in an instant.
“Are you getting married?”
“N—” I go to reply no, but the closing of my throat stops me, preventing me from saying it. Alyssia and I haven’t discussed our relationship so far … she won’t even live in my fucking apartment.
A fact that still haunts me.
Any sane person would say this isn’t going to end in marriage. But I’m not a sane person, and there’s been a shift over the past few months. When I think of marriage, the knee-jerk rejection I used to have is no longer present.
“Shit,” Norm murmurs. “Travis, you’re at the peak of your career. Are you sure now is the time to do all of this?”
“Norm?” I pause. “You’re my agent, not my father. And even he doesn’t dream of telling me what to do, nor has he for a long time,” I say through gritted teeth.
“I’m not trying to run your life. You’re at a very pivotal moment in your career. Most guys would kill to be in the position you’re in right now. If things had gone differently last, you would be in contention for your second championship.”
“But I’m not,” I say, rising from the bed and pacing the floor.
“All the more reason for you to be focused this season,” he counters. “Nothing can get in your head this season.”
“I know what the hell I’m doing. Remember, you’re my agent, not my fucking life coach.”
“Travis, you—”
“I need to get ready to win a race.” I disconnect the call and toss my phone on the bed. Then I retrieve it again to check my text messages.
Alyssia: Yes, I had breakfast
Alyssia: Good luck today.
She ends the text with a winky face emoji.
Me: You never sent me this morning’s gratitude list.
I pause longer than I should, staring at my phone when I’m supposed to meet my parents before my race. The only thing that gets me moving is a knock on my door from my parents when I take too long to meet them.
“Job well done,” Drake Horner says in my ear as I climb out of the car.
I’ve just won the Miami Grand Prix. Another twenty-five points on the board in my quest to hold that championship title.
“I need my phone,” I say to Annalise who’s come out to congratulate me along with the rest of my team. I only have minutes before I need to head back to the post-race conference area, hydrate, and do some interviews. But I want to check my messages.
There’s a message waiting for me.
Alyssia: Congratulations on a great race.
This one message has my already present grin stretching wider.
Alyssia: Today I am grateful for:
1. The new pregnancy pillow you bought for me (Thank you by the way)
2. Clear skin
3. Morning walks
4. My job
5. Beautiful weather
I frown as a sudden soreness in my chest occurs. I hate that I’ve missed a morning walk with Alyssia. I despise not being able to go for a stroll around the neighborhood where she lives and stop in a shop to sit down to have breakfast with her.
“Travis?” Horner calls. “Nice work today, though you went out harder than we planned.”
“Flat out or nothing,” I respond, tucking my phone away.
He groans before saying, “Flat out, one hundred percent of the time is impossible and trying will drain you. Strategy is what’s important.” He taps his temple for emphasis.
Horner knows more than anything I need to make up for what was stolen from me last season.
“Anything else?” I deadpan.
He shakes his head before handing me a folded piece of paper. “My secretary took a message for you.”
He pats my arm and then reminds me that I have ten minutes before I need hydrate and get ready for the podium ceremony.
“Coming,” I tell him at the same time I unfold the sheet of paper.
On it is a message with a phone number asking me to call. My first instinct is to throw the paper away, but something stops me.
“Travis, five minutes,” one of the members of my team calls out.
I wave him off as I pull out my phone.
“I see you got my message.” The mechanical voice that answers makes my stomach drop.
“Who is this?”
“That’s not important.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as my mind goes back to the note I received at the end of my first race this season.
“Then tell me what you want so I can tell you to fuck off before I hang up the phone.”
“You’re a smart ass.”
“I’m more than that.”
Whoever this is on the other end scoffs. There’s no point in asking for a name since I know he won’t come out and give it to me.
Coming from a family with as much wealth as mine, and working in the industry I’ve been in since I was a teenager, I’m not a stranger to extortion or bribery attempts.
It actually comes with the territory. And it’s also one of the reasons I choose to live where I live. There’s an added level of privacy and security given the type of people who live in Monaco.
It’s why I wanted Alyssia to stay in my apartment building. She would have additional security there.
“You’re not anything!” the voice insists.
I sigh. “If you’re so easily rattled, you’re in the wrong line of work,” I goad.
“Listen up,” he proceeds. “If you want to save your season and avoid messing up like you did last year, I suggest you do as I say.”
The comment about last year is what sets my teeth on edge. “What the hell did you just say?”
“Not so confident now.”
“Checking for clarity’s sake.”
“Abu Dhabi wasn’t simply a bad call.”
Memories of that race come flooding back. I’ve spent hours analyzing it from various angles. I’d beaten myself up for not making that final pitstop, but in the back of my mind, there is always a shred of doubt. Of questioning why a certain call was made.
I can’t help but think the call wasn’t something just done in the spur of the moment. That maybe someone had it out for me.
“What do you know?”
“Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”
“What the hell are you calling me for then?”
“It’s easy. If you want to keep Amato Racing in contention to race, you need to miss the podium next race.”
“I’ll never purposely lose a race.” It’s not in my DNA to lose and definitely not on purpose.
A gnarly chuckle passes through the phone line. “If you know what’s good for you, you will.”
In this industry, backstabbing, cheating, and even bribery aren’t new. With millions of dollars on the line, people turn into animals to get what they want. That night in Vegas comes back to mine.
The two teenage boys who had gotten involved in online gambling and were so caught up in it that they thought coming to my hotel was a good idea.
Alyssia and the baby.
All it takes is one thought of her and I’m dialing the number of the one man who taught me everything I know about personal safety and security. The man who my entire family trusts implicitly because he’s part of our family.
“Uncle Brutus, it’s Travis.”
“You do realize your face comes up on my phone, don’t you?”
I grunt at his sarcasm.
“I think I’ve got an issue.”