Chapter Fifty-Four
Victoria
We don’t get much rest that night, but it’s made up by sleeping in. When we wake up, it’s to a drowsy morning, room service eaten in bed, and a quiet, unspoken sense of companionship that means more than any grand gesture.
Waking up with Asher feels like the most natural thing in the world. I want to do it forever, and it’s startling to realize that I might get to.
“Shit,” Asher says, glaring down at his phone.
“What’s wrong?”
“We’re being summoned.” He glances up at me. “Ilya wants to see us at the paddock, together. Apparently, so do Soren, Declan, and Frank Sterling.” He winces. “I probably should’ve talked to management before doing what I did at the press conference yesterday.”
At another time, I’d be panicking over this revelation and assuming I’ll get fired. But Asher and I are both valuable players on the team. I don’t think Gaston can afford to fire either one of us—because then, the other would leave.
“Let me call Delilah,” I say. “She’ll have our backs…”
“My god, you two are sickeningly in love.” Delilah’s greeting to us in the hotel lobby is nothing short of disgusted.
She looks at Asher’s arm, which is wrapped around my waist with delightful possessiveness.
“It might be wise to detach from each other. You know, in case you’re about to get in deep shit for fraternizing. ”
A touch of worry wrinkles my good mood, but nowhere near as much as it once would’ve been. “You said we’re not breaking any rules in the employee handbook.”
“That just means that if team management punishes you, you can sue. Which would be an expensive, years-long process, where you’ll probably lose more in legal fees than what you’ll recover.”
“Don’t underestimate how much money I’d throw at a spiteful endeavor,” Asher says calmly.
“Can the attitude, hotshot. Let’s see what these old men want.”
“First of all, my congratulations on your success yesterday,” Soren says. “The upgrade package was clearly well-placed, as was your use of your algorithm.” He gazes at me.
“Thanks,” Asher says tightly from beside me.
Soren’s paddock office is spacious enough to fit everyone who saw fit to attend this meeting.
Declan and Ilya idle on either side of the desk, standing, and Sterling leans against the floor-to-ceiling window behind Soren’s desk, observing silently.
Asher, Delilah and I sit in three folding chairs across the desk from Soren.
I think everyone in the room is waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“You’re welcome. Now, naturally, the press conference could’ve been handled better. A heads up on your intentions would’ve been nice—”
“My clients had no burden to inform you of anything,” Delilah cuts in neatly. “If you’d refer to the code of conduct the team operates by, section twelve, clause—”
“Why are you here?” Declan interrupts, frowning. “This isn’t a courtroom.”
Delilah’s smile comes on slow and terrifically menacing. “The world is my courtroom, and every day is a trial.”
“What a fascinating way to live,” Sterling murmurs, breaking his studious silence.
“Nobody’s in trouble, and there’s no burden of anything.” Soren looks tired. “We would like to assign you a publicist. Asher’s image could use some reform, and it would be good to keep any speculation around the two of you to a minimum.”
Asher yawns. “My manager will have someone within a day.”
“Wonderful. Next order of business.” Soren looks at me. “I believe we have a deal to sign.”
Delilah smiles again. “So glad you brought it up.” She withdraws a thick stack of papers housed in three separate folders from her purse, and reaches forward to drop them on the desk with a pointed thump.
“There’s the contract we’re offering. Minor changes should be alright, but the framework is non-negotiable.
I’ve brought three copies, just in case more than one person wanted to read. ”
Soren slides the papers towards himself and distributes them to Declan and Ilya. A tense silence descends as the three men read. Asher turns his neck to gaze at me, support written into every line of his features. God, I love this man. So much it hurts.
“This is not what we agreed on.” Soren looks up, glaring at me. “You agreed to give us the algorithm—”
“And she is. Exclusive use, until the end of the season,” Delilah interjects calmly.
“That isn’t—this is not acceptable!” Soren sputters. “Only you being allowed to use it is ridiculous!”
“Why?” I tilt my head to the side. “It’s early stages. It’s a bit glitchy, even if very effective. It still requires a lot of work. What’s the problem with me being its sole user, unless you were hoping to get a glimpse at the source code so you could replicate it?”
Asher hides a smile behind his hand. Soren blanches. Delan rolls his eyes, and Ilya sighs.
“That’s not what I was implying,” Soren grits out. “But this isn’t what we agreed on—”
“It’s well within the parameters of our agreement.” I lean forward. “I could sell this right now for money. A lot of money. Instead, I’m giving sole use to Gaston. Me being the one to use it would work in your favor. I don’t understand what the issue is.”
“Soren has a difficult time trusting newcomers.” Ilya gives Delilah a long, lazy glance. “Can a clause for mutual penalties be written in? Consequences should Victoria break her word?”
Delilah shrugs. “I don’t see why not. I’ll make the change tonight.”
Sterling pushes away from the window, and plucks the file right from Soren’s hands. I feel my eyebrows rise as he returns to his previous position and starts reading.
How much money does he give the team to be afforded such liberties? He shouldn’t even be in this office, let alone taking confidential legal documents from the Team Principle’s hands.
“Have you ever considered a career in F1?” he asks Delilah after several minutes of tense silence.
She doesn’t show it, but I can feel Delilah’s intrigue filling the room. Still, she keeps her tone bored and distant. “Sweaty drivers aren’t my thing.”
“But managing contracts and licenses clearly are.” He walks over to her, dropping the stack of papers on the table as he goes, and draws a business card from his jacket pocket.
He holds it between two fingers and offers it to her.
“Give me a call. I know some people in need of new in-house council. You might be an excellent fit.”
“I get bored quite easily.”
Sterling chuckles. “Then you must take a look at a few teams. There are many drivers in F1 who are occasionally… problematic.”
I share a look with Asher. This surreal meeting just turned even more surreal.
“Can we get back to the matter at hand?” Soren asks sourly.
“Of course.” Sterling turns around. “Contract looks reasonable enough to me.”
“If you’re not happy with it, I can see who else is interested in my program,” I say calmly.
“Then we can find a reason to remove the recent upgrades to Asher’s car,” Soren says seriously.
“Go for it.” Asher yawns. “I’m going for the podium with or without that upgrade this season. But, let me be clear; threaten Victoria again, and I will not even consider Gaston’s offer to renew my contract.”
“Bold of you to assume you’ll receive an offer,” Ilya murmurs.
“Perhaps.” Asher shrugs. “Perhaps not. In either case, wouldn’t matter, would it? I’d throw it away.”
It’s a horrible moment to feel a rush of warmth fill me, considering Asher’s actively putting his ass on the line… but he’s going out of his way for me. Again.
“Fine.” Soren glares at Delilah, who arches a perfectly-plucked eyebrow and stares right back. Unsurprisingly, Soren is the first to blink. Few people can hold out under the sheer force of Delilah’s stare, and I don’t bother counting myself among that number.
“We’d like to do a photoshoot with the two of you.” Soren nods at me and Asher. “A star-crossed couple is good PR.”
“How much are you offering for the privilege?” Delilah asks with a toothy smile.
I sit back and hide my laugh. Asher reaches over and clasps my hand in his. I feel his support in the gesture, and his love in the air between us.
And I know, with a deep certainty, that I’ve found my person. He’s imperfect. His flaws are significant. But I love every single one of them, just as I know he loves mine.