28. TIAGO
TIAGO
‘Despiértate.’
Wha—
I make to rub my eyes and my entire body spasms.
OW.
Everything hurts. Why—?
Yesterday returns in vivid flashbacks. The pep talk. The explosion. Leone’s bankruptcy.
Jules.
I know she’s not here without opening my eyes. The blankets are tugged tight on the far side. I can’t smell anything but my brother’s cologne. Did I dream it? Spooning, talking late, watching four episodes of possibly the greatest noughties show ever produced.
‘Tiago, despiértate.’
I finally open my eyes to find JC sloping over me, face set in a deep frown. I really don’t need his saltiness. My shoulder’s pounding and my head feels like I fell on it.
Oh wait, I did.
How did he even get in?
‘Buenos días,’ sings Isa, eating a mango from the penthouse kitchen.
Oh great, so this is a family reunion. And I’m not wearing any pants.
JC raises his middle and index fingers. ‘Two words.’ There’s an urgency to his usual monotonous tone. ‘Turbo failure.’
I struggle to sit up, rolling awkwardly and relying on my good arm. My neck protests, an angry stiffness at the base of my skull. ‘?Qué?’
‘I got a call this morning from Leone’s legal team. The fire was caused by a pressurised oil feed line to the turbo which burst. It’s a manufacturing defect. The engine supplier’s giving full compensation.’
WHAT?
I don’t believe this.
It’s a fucking miracle!
‘For real?’ I utter.
The corners of his lips quirk. ‘Leone are in the clear.’
‘Holy shit!’ I jerk up, and a catching pain spikes in my shoulder joint, reminding me it hasn’t made the same lightning-fast recovery as my team. ‘?Ay!’
Isa laughs. ‘You look better.’
‘It hurts. It all hurts.’
‘You’ll improve every day,’ is Trey’s contribution, coming in carrying drinks. I stare longingly at the white cup. ‘I have all your notes from the doctor. She gave me Co-codamol for any big pain spikes, and an anti-inflammatory we don’t get even in the US to be taken after breakfast.’
To my delight, he lays both drinks on my bedside table.
‘Café con leche?’ I ask, just to be sure. The race weekend’s over so caffeine’s back on the menu.
‘Claro. Hydrate like you’re in Singapore.’
My spirits lift to high heavens. ‘Thanks, dog. I always knew you were my favourite.’
‘Excuse you,’ Isa butts in, pointing her mango core at me. ‘Who sat with you while you were hopped up on morphine? If I had to hear about Jules’ boobies one more time—’
‘ISA,’ I hiss over the sound of Trey pissing himself.
‘That British chick who flew to New York with us?’ JC says, sitting on the bed.
Isa and I look meaningfully at each other.
I don’t have time to worry about what the hell I said yesterday.
JC still doesn’t know about me working with Jules and I can’t see any benefit to that changing.
He’ll find out when I’m safely retired from motorsport and this can be a fun little anecdote. Probably not even then.
‘Yeah, she’s a content creator,’ Trey explains. ‘Focuses on lifestyle and self-betterment. Dating Tom Webber right now.’
‘Allegedly,’ I counter before I can catch myself.
‘Allegedly my ass. They were spotted at Passadís del Pep on Saturday night.’
Don’t remind me.
‘We slept together once – a long time ago,’ I throw in so JC doesn’t think I’m a homewrecker. ‘It was no big deal.’
‘You guys hang a lot, huh,’ JC comments, looking at his phone.
I’m sweating into my gauze. ‘I wouldn’t say a lot.’
‘I would,’ says Trey, perching at my feet. ‘You guys are together every race weekend.’
Jesus fuck, Trey!
‘Marketing specialist,’ JC reads from Jules’ bio.
I jump in before my moron cousin. ‘That’s not—’
‘She’s working with Pagari right now,’ adds Trey, louder, and I’ve never wanted to strangle him more. ‘Did a little work with Martinel— ?Mierda!’
Isa retracts her foot. ‘Since when did you become such a fan?’ she asks through gritted teeth. It’s not hard to notice the sharpness in her voice. Jules is her thing. Was her thing? Who the hell knows.
JC doesn’t notice shit, his focus pinning me in place. ‘Has she worked with Leone?’
Before I can answer, Trey scoffs a laugh. ‘Of course not, bro. She doesn’t even look at anything outside the top three. She keeps a tight ship where her business is concerned.’
He hasn’t totally made up for the last five minutes, but that helped.
JC hasn’t stopped staring at me. He knows something. He doesn’t know what he knows, but he senses it. ‘Is that right?’
Heat’s climbing up my aching neck. I school my face, keeping it neutral. ‘Yup.’
‘So when you came downstairs yesterday looking like Tío Joaquin, and you said you were trying something new, that came from you?’
Trey barks out a laugh.
Fuck Jules and her old man clothes. ‘Yup.’ It’s strangled. Let’s see if I can salvage this and spin it into the truth. ‘I’ve always liked sports jackets, you know that.’
‘You haven’t voluntarily worn tight pants in—’
‘Alright,’ Isa cuts in. ‘Let’s me and Trey help him get dressed and you, JC, go order us some breakfast. Tiago needs to take his meds.’ JC’s still turning it over in his head and she grabs him by the sleeve. ‘Muévete, Juan Camilo.’
He snarls back – mostly because she used his real name – and she pushes him out the door.
Gracias, I mouth as she shuts it behind him.