CHAPTER 5
Anna
When Anna woke on Friday, it was the first day of her new job.
Her eyes flew open, and she jumped out of bed.
It had been years since her last “first day” and for once, she was looking forward to working.
It had been a long time since she’d had that feeling.
Because of the night races, the pre-race press conference had been at dawn—right after arrival yesterday—and thankfully she’d been excused.
Her chest tightened at the idea of all the people she’d meet and the responsibilities she’d learn today.
The feeling was a mix of nerves and excitement.
Everything was changing so quickly. She didn’t regret the choices she’d made in her life; that was pointless.
Her life had been stagnant, and she’d been wasting her time. Now she was ready to live.
Angel had been helpful, giving her a printed copy of both her schedule and Isaac’s for the weekend, including a time and place to catch her ride to the track.
Plus, a stack of team clothing. Her skin tingled when she donned the new white t-shirt and navy cargo shorts, each with the team logo.
A thrill shot through her about being part of a team, an unfamiliar experience.
She’d always preferred to work alone—even when technically part of a marketing team, she’d been on her own—but this time, the idea of working with others was invigorating.
She’d avoided looking at her umbrella girl outfit, leaving it thrown on the bed in a crumpled heap as long as she could.
At last, she held it up and cringed. She’d shown little skin in public other than at the beach, and even then, she’d been uncomfortable.
Adam hadn’t encouraged her to look sexy, and she’d often felt invisible around him.
His recent comments about her desk job adding to her weight didn’t help.
Perhaps later she’d feel more confident about wearing clothes like this.
But right now, his cutting words were too recent.
Worrying about the Sunday clothes made her late for breakfast downstairs in the busy hotel dining room. She was one of the last to arrive in the Honda section that held over two dozen mechanics, engineers, and technicians of various kinds—other teams had their own area today.
Most of the job titles meant little to her as Angel introduced her to the crew while they stood beside the long buffet table.
Her hands shook as she grabbed hot tea and sweetened it, distracting herself from the buzz of noise and press of people by stirring.
Taking a breath, she focused on meeting people’s eyes and learning some of their names.
She didn’t understand most of what they did, other than they were part of Isaac’s crew, and therefore her team. But she’d learn.
She glanced at Isaac. He and Vince wore similar team polo shirts, Isaac’s in white with blue and green, and Vince’s white with orange and black. Both rode Hondas, but they seemed to have several unique sponsors.
She’d looked up their teams last night to learn about the differences.
Vince’s team was the factory team which entitled him to more upgrades and the latest bikes.
Isaac’s was a satellite team with last year’s bike and was considered an independent team.
She’d also discovered that the brothers had a massive online following and their own fan clubs.
Many young women professed their undying love, particularly to Vince.
It seemed that Isaac hadn’t exaggerated his brother’s popularity, even if he’d downplayed his own.
Collecting yogurt and a spoon from the breakfast buffet, Anna’s throat constricted as she turned towards the tables, uncertain where to sit.
It was like high school all over again. She should have come down sooner.
She breathed a deep sigh when Catarina waved for her to join her, two people away from the Vasquez brothers at the long table.
Isaac caught her gaze and smiled, causing her stomach to flutter.
He made her nervous—in an exhilarating way.
She liked that he wasn’t loud or intense.
He seemed easy-going and pleasant. She watched his long supple fingers as he took apart an orange, unable to help her fascination.
That was how her brain worked, uninterested or mildly obsessed.
“You settling in?” said Catarina as Anna sat.
Like Anna, she wore team colors in a polo shirt and navy shorts. Somehow, her Spanish friend seemed stylish, even in generic clothing.
Anna nodded, checking the time. She didn’t have time to eat more than her yogurt and fruit.
She’d spent too much time stressing over the umbrella girl uniform on her bed, eventually trying it on.
She didn’t have to wear it until tomorrow, but the idea was a blight hanging over her morning that she couldn’t shake.
“Questions so far?” Catarina spread jam over her roll before taking a bite.
Anna shook her head and smiled, forcing herself to forget about her problem with the uniform.
It was kind of the other woman to check-in.
She would have liked to talk more, but it was close to departure time.
Anna wiped her palms as she finished eating and glanced around.
Several riders and crew bosses had left the room, which seemed to be a signal for everyone. Time to work.
“First days are tough, but you’ll be fine.
Angel will be good to work for. He’s a kind man that Isaac looks up to.
Sit with me tonight at dinner,” said Catarina in a quiet voice as she got up to follow Vince to her shuttle—headed for the track.
“I’ll want to hear about your day.” She left with a smile and a confident stride.
Anna didn’t feel that way herself, but she attempted to give her own walk a similar confidence. She passed the Australian rider with his off-putting smirk and ignored his rude stare.
“Hey, America. What’s your name?” He called after her. She pretended not to hear and climbed onto Isaac’s shuttle with the rest of their team.
Once she arrived at the track, the full Honda group separated into four distinct garages, one for each rider.
Instead of calling them garages, she learned they called each section a box.
All the interior panels matched the team and manufacturer colors and looked to be portable and fastened into place.
They must be set up again at each venue.
Looking down the long row, she counted at least twelve other non-Honda teams. If each had two riders, that meant twenty-eight competing in each race.
Counting was calming and easier to focus on than all the unknowns.
Isaac disappeared out the back of the box, and when he returned, he’d changed into tight-fitting cobalt blue, bright green, and white riding leathers covered with logos and writing across the top half—including down the sleeves.
While Isaac had been gone, the crew had uncovered two identical-looking motorcycles that matched the colors Isaac now wore.
Up close, the bikes seemed huge and more powerful looking than any motorbikes she’d seen.
She looked around, unsure where to stand.
Everyone seemed busy, bustling through the garage with familiar jobs.
The scent reminded her of the parts department of a car dealership: rubber, oil, and gas.
She jumped at a repetitive staccato noise and turned. Two men in team shirts were inflating tires on a compressor of some kind. Another screech of a power tool added one of the new tires to the back of a motorbike. The burst of sound was over quickly. Calming her racing heart, she glanced at Isaac.
After meeting her gaze, Isaac called her over and patted the blue and green tank of the closest of the two motorcycles. “These are my beauties,” he said when she’d joined him.
“Why are there two bikes? They look the same.” She bit her lip, hoping it wasn’t a stupid question.
“Mostly to save time.” He didn’t quite look at her as he spoke.
“The guys can have two bikes ready with different settings or tires.” He crouched down to look at something lower on the bike.
He glanced upward and met her eyes. “We use different tires for rain or for different temperatures. The harder tires are for the hottest or roughest tracks.” He seemed about to say more but stopped short.
Was there something he wasn’t saying? She ran through what she’d learned last night.
Ah. She sucked in a breath. He also had a second bike in case he crashed the first one in practice or qualifying, making it unrideable for the race.
That’s what he was avoiding mentioning. She flushed.
He must not want to think about the risk, even if it was always present.
Either that, or it didn’t even cross his mind.
After all, as a motorcycle racer, he must be an adrenaline junkie.
“How do you like the bikes?” There was pride in his voice as he raised his eyebrow.
She bit her lip. She didn’t want to ask too many questions all at once.
Adam said that was annoying. “They look fast.” Now that she’d seen them, she believed they could reach the insane speed of three hundred and fifty kilometers per hour.
What would that feel like? Would she ever get to feel the speed?
As if reading her mind, Isaac grinned in a slightly crooked, daredevil way, so different from his usual composed expression.
“They are really fast. Maybe one day when you’re more comfortable, I can take you for a slow lap.
” He checked over his shoulder for Angel, who had joined them and said, “A very slow, cautious lap.”