Chapter 8
They settled in for the flight, and Jonathan checked in on Erik’s injuries from the crash.
“Oh, just a few bruises. I’ll be fine by the weekend,” Erik answered, showing his war wounds. “I think you should be more worried about who did this to me.”
“That’s why I wanted us to fly over together.”
Jonathan’s right-hand, Elizabeth Warren, was with them. She was more than a Chief of Staff and Communications Director. She helped Jonathan with most of the team's day-to-day tasks, including crisis management.
“If you’re going to ask me what’s wrong with him, I honestly don’t know.” Erik put his hands up.
“Erik, this can’t continue. Have you two fallen out?”
“Not at all. We had a drink together the other day. He even apologised to Antoine and me for the incident in Japan. Antoine was the one who noticed something was going on, so he brought it to me, and I started looking at some replays of his driving. He’s getting reckless.”
“What’s the situation with your girlfriend and Dunham?”
Erik was taken aback and didn’t know how to answer this. He quickly gathered himself again, “Girlfriend?”
“Oh, come on, Erik, I’ve known you for years. I could see it from the moment she entered the paddock. Is she hired by the team or Antoine?”
“I actually don’t know, but from what I understand, she’s hired by Antoine. I think it’s Antoine who pays her, not the team.”
Jonathan looked over at Elizabeth, who gave him a nod.
“Interesting, I’ve heard rumours that she’s made a few changes at the team.”
“We don’t really talk about her work, Jonny. She’s very confidential about it.”
“That’s good to know,” he responded. “Do you think she would be able to work with Mark?”
“I honestly don’t know. You would have to speak to Ingrid. I can’t speak for her.”
“Ok, I’ll look out for her in Saudi.”
“She won’t be there, has to be in Paris with another client. Some politician, if I understood enough of her French correctly.”
“Oh god, you really have grown up in the past few months! Found yourself a woman with a brain.” Jonathan laughed. “It’s about time.”
Erik gave Jonathan the finger.
“Back to the real issue. What are we going to do about Mark in the meantime? Everyone is talking about it.”
“You do your magic with the media. Also, we’ll have to figure out how to manage the media around you and Ingrid.” He looked at Elizabeth.
“Don’t worry, Jules and I started working on a media plan a few weeks ago,” she responded.
“Lizzie, did you know too?”
“It was pretty obvious.”
“She still hasn’t agreed to be my girlfriend, so you can keep your media plan in a holding pattern.”
The rest of the flight was spent joking around about how obvious Erik was when he thought he’d been so good at hiding his interest in Ingrid. By the time they landed, he had forgotten all about his crash.
Erik put on a good show for the team’s social media, laughing and joking with Mark.
His friend seemed to be in better spirits, too.
When it came to media day, he also brushed off the incident and said it wasn’t anything serious – “nothing like a few bruised ribs between friends”. That became the line for the weekend.
Ingrid sent him his voice note, which he played over and over again. He had also remained calm about the crash, but he wanted to see her face afterwards. This was racing; it was bound to happen at some point, and now they had been through it. Just a few more days, and they would be together again.
On race day, he did his new ritual of calling her.
Jimmy was starting to think he was crazy.
He also added in a step of hugging Antoine for Ingrid.
After the crash the week before, he did this for himself as well.
Antoine was like the brother he had never had.
He would protect him from Mark while he was in this reckless state.
Erik took home the 2nd place trophy. Nico won this round.
Mark was disappointed with third place and showed it on the podium.
People, especially the pundits, were starting to talk. The only person not talking was Mark.
???
Ingrid had watched Mark throw his silent temper tantrum on the podium and then in the media pen.
At least he hadn’t gotten physical with anyone.
Antoine finished P4 again. Ingrid was more than pleased because this continued effort had now put him in third place in the Drivers’ Championship.
It was still early in the season, but he was consistently finishing races in the top five.
“Hello.” She smiled as she answered.
“I’m coming home. Well, my home. Are you packed?” Erik asked.
“For a week in New York and then Miami? No.”
“Ingrid!”
“It will take me, like, an hour to pack.” She laughed. “You haven’t even left Saudi yet. Is Sigrid still joining us?”
“Yes, she loves the Miami GP for some reason. It’s my worst. Plus, it’s a fucking sprint. I also don’t know why Oliver wants to come to this one. Oh, wait, I can guess.”
Ingrid laughed. “He’s going to love it! I had no idea you had made this deal with him.”
“Yes, but it was worth it. Ok, we’re taking off. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Me too.”
The next call she made was to Antoine’s media manager, Henry, to let him know it was happening. It was going to come out eventually, and so they had decided to get ahead of it.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Henry asked her.
“Henry, I was splashed all over papers here for just having coffee with a client. I think I would rather have a plan in place for this than go through that again.” She didn’t tell him the part about actually sharing feelings with the client.
“Plus, we have our very attractive siblings with us, which will cushion the blow.”
“Ok, I’ll speak with Jules, and we’ll put Operation Scandi in play.”
“Oh, you’re joking? That’s the name?” She laughed.
“We had to call it something, and that was the obvious choice with you two. Been working on it for weeks.”
After the call, Ingrid told Oliver about the hilariously named ‘Operation Scandi’.
“Good god, Sister, could they not have come up with something more original?”
“I know, right?” She giggled. “I just hope the fallout isn’t too bad for Antoine. He’s such an easy-going guy, though, that I think he’ll be the one to make it all work.”
The minute Ingrid got on the jet, she regretted bringing the siblings along.
She had missed Erik more than she realised.
Sigrid looked quite similar to her brother but was clearly still in her rebellious, youthful fashion phase.
She was warm and open like her mother. Oliver was stunned by the private jet.
Ingrid could tell he wanted to travel this way all the time.
The siblings sat together and got to know one another.
Despite the age difference, the two were getting on well.
“God, I’ve missed you,” Erik whispered in her ear.
“Me too,” she replied. “How soon until we have our own room?”
He laughed, “For me, not soon enough.”
The flight to New York was quicker than Ingrid anticipated, and they were soon checking in at their hotel.
“All meet in the lobby at 7 for dinner? I’ve booked a nice restaurant for us,” Erik said.
Oliver was grinning at Ingrid because he knew what she was about to get up to. She rolled her eyes at him and told them to go out and have fun.
“Come here,” Erik said as soon as their suitcases had been dropped off. Ingrid had been politely keeping her distance. She melted into his arms.
“I’ve missed you, you know?” She said.
“You’ve already said that.” He kissed her neck. “What else?”
She pulled away and hit him.
“Don’t ever crash on me again!”
“Oh, I was waiting for that.” He laughed.
“Let’s see your ribs?”
He took off his top to show her the fading bruises.
“See, not that bad? You could have just asked me to get naked if you wanted to…” And he pulled her back into an embrace.
Weeks of not being together faded away. They devoured each other at first, then slowed things down after that rush to be together disappeared.
Ingrid had missed this connection to her body.
The way he touched her. It was always the way he touched her bare skin, the gentle pressure of his fingers, that set off sparks inside her.
“Am I forgiven for the crash?” He asked as he traced the shape of her body.
“Yes, but it isn’t forgotten,” she said, and kissed him. “I know I’ve said this before, but I think Mark looked drunk when he did it.”
“I really don’t feel like talking about Mark right now,” Erik responded by moving his hand down between her thighs.
“Ok, no work talk,” she said, rolling over onto him and kissing him instead.
“Yes, that’s much better.” He wrapped his arms around her. “You fit so perfectly there.” He was murmuring into her ear.
“Although you know we’re going to have to talk about work and this whole Operation Scandi thing at some point.”
“Killing the mood, V?lva!”
“Ok, shutting up now!”
“Let’s just enjoy some quiet time now before we have to join the siblings; we can talk then.”
Over dinner, Operation Scandi came up. They were at an Italian restaurant in Midtown. New York was working out for them so far. People sort of recognised Erik, but they didn’t know where from. It meant he wasn’t hounded for photos or autographs, and they could act as a couple.
“I think it’s a stupid name,” said Sigrid. She was blunt and honest. Ingrid liked that about her. “Plus, no offence, Ingrid, you’re only half-Norwegian.”
The twins laughed at this because their father would take offence.
“No offence taken; they think because of my surname that I’m fully Scandi.”
“I think it’s too stage-managed.”
“We do too,” Erik joined the conversation. He had been looking at the plan on his phone.
“Oh, cute, bror, you’re using ‘we’. You never do that with other girlfriends.” Sigrid laughed. “And now you’re blushing!”
“Shut up, Sigrid, or I’ll send you home to Mamma!” He said jokingly.
Ingrid put her arms around him and gave him a peck on the cheek.