Page 26 of Racing for Redemption
I study Blake from top to bottom, then look to William. Yes. William is shorter than him. He’s maybe between 170 cm and 175 cm; not tall as hell as other drivers are, almost breaking my neck to look them in the eye. But even if that height—that makes most women go feral—isn’t there, he still makes heads turn in the paddock. He’s really well-built. I’ll give him that. And the neck and arm tattoos only add to his whole reckless, crazy vibe that only comes out when he’s driving.
“I was just checking something. Don’t worry, I’m not judging you for being tall, or anything like that.”
He chuckles softly. “I sense you’re judging me, Violet. Your dad was like that with me all the time, calling me abusinessgiraffe.” His tone is nostalgic, and there’s a tenderness in his gazethat puts a smile on my face. Dad may no longer be around, but he left people with fond memories of him.
“Well, for what it’s worth, you’re an awesome right-hand man. I trust you with my life, Blake. Just like my dad did. Also, giraffes are cute.”
His eyes get glossy for a split second, and he turns his head around. “Thanks, Violet. I’m indebted to your family. Never forget, I’ll give it all to help you.”
I pat his back and smile at him. “We’re going to turn this around, together. Mark my words. My dad would have gone crazy if he knew we’d team up to make Colton Racing the team it was back in his time.”
“You know what? My wife still can’t believe I’m working with a Colton again.” He chuckles.
“I hope her disbelief is because she likes us instead of ‘oh no, you’re back with that bad employer again?’ type of disbelief.”
We both crack up, and he adds, “Nah, she was your father’s assistant. It was how I met her. I was your father’s right-hand man, and my lovely wife was his personal assistant.” The way Blake talks about his wife is endearing. His eyes soften, and his smile is completely different from anything I’d have seen before from him.
“I hope I can love someone as deeply as you love your wife. That’s a beautiful story, and I hope you stay together forever.” I give him a side hug. “Let me know if you need tickets to bring her in for a race. I’ll put her on the VIP list in a heartbeat.”
He smiles a bit bashfully. “And our daughter is in her last year of high school. She’s beautiful, and smart as a whip. She wants to become an engineer. I can show you a photo…”
As the interviews take place, Blake and I momentarily forget the stress of Formula 1 and talk about my family and his, sharing stories and crazy shenanigans. These ties make Colton Racing unique. Everyone was close. Like a family. Funnily enough, some even started their families because of us. My father’s passion for the sport brought everyone together, and honestly, I want to do that again. Well, minus the matchmaking. I don’t have luck in love on my end; sharing that with our team members would be a disaster, another one to add to our long list of bad kinks to iron out in this team.
As William wraps up the interview, he catches my eye and waves. He shines very brightly. Almost a reflex, I awkwardly wave back.
With the recordings complete, he chats easily with the crew, and his energy is irresistible. He draws people in. Sounds and looks like a natural leader. He won over our engineers—and everyone at the factory—in no time. And, he’s slowly winning over the press, even if the fans online still hate and mock him and Colton Racing. He… has sort of won me over, too. Still, I won’t give him the victory, or before I know it, he’ll become the CEO for this team. He's too charismatic for his own good.
We’re making small moves in the right direction. Still, we’ve been handling things so ineptly; with the leak of Kevin’s situation, followed by the leak of William’s announcement. We need to take a step back and revise our communication strategy. And find out who’s been feeding all this information to the press.
William has arrived to give an energy boost to this team. The real test, of course, will come when the season starts. But for now, I allow myself a moment of cautious optimism. Colton Racing may be down, but we’re far from out. Our passion is still burning deep within us and ready to be unleashed. And when it gets out, it’ll be beautiful.
Chapter 9
Mission:befriending the boss
William
Icollapse onto the couch in my small countryside home, every muscle aching. It’s been a grueling week of testing, interviews, and endless meetings. But despite the exhaustion, I can’t wipe the grin off my face.
I’m finally in Formula 1.Fuck yes.
Okay, so it’s not with a top team. Colton Racing is struggling—there’s no denying that. But it’s a foot in the door, a chance to prove myself. And after the disaster that was my final F2 season, I’m not about to waste it. I’d initially considered using them to get to Formula 1, then move on to a different team. I can’t explain it, but I’m already becoming attached to everyone. The mechanics are cool, the marketing people are a bit intense—and they stress me out—but they are just doing their job while drinking more cups of coffee than I can track. Blake is a nice chap, and I can see why he’s been around Colton Racing since the days of the late Frederick Colton. And Violet has beensurprisingly nice to me, despite her cold, unapproachable and extremely professional facade.
I’m weirdly comfortable.
Way too comfortable.
The most I’ve ever been with a team.
It’s a bit scary, and extremely exciting at the same time.
For the first time in years, I’m doing something new. I’m wanted around to help with car development, to improve our image in the media, to own it and show that I’m a different man. A different driver. I’m doing my best to not be as hot-blooded as I typically am. But don’t get me wrong; I hold grudges, and those guys from Vortex Academy team will get their comeuppance when I can challenge them in their fancy—way faster—F1 cars. Paul will get his due.
Then, I grin, remembering the shocked looks on some of the journalists’ faces during our presser. They’d come expecting the hot-headed disaster from F2, and instead got… Well, me. The real me. The one who’s determined to make this work. The laidback me, full of jokes, and without any pressure. And that’s because I’ve ticked off the box of joining an F1 team. The pressure is off, my friends.
My gaze drifts to the black and red Colton Racing cap on the coffee table. It still feels surreal seeing that logo and knowing it’s mine now. Our team. My shot at redemption.
My phone buzzes. It’s James.
