Page 30 of Racing for Redemption
Violet looks up, surprise flickering across her face. “What do you mean?”
I take a deep breath, deciding to just go for it. “I mean, you could have walked away. Found an easier job, one with less pressure. But you’re still here, fighting for this team. The board of directors wants your neck, and social media makes your life a living hell. And yet, you fight. It’s… admirable.”
A faint blush colors her cheeks, and she looks away. “It’s my family’s legacy. I can’t just abandon it.”
“Is that the only reason?” I press gently.
She meets my gaze then, and I see a vulnerability there that takes my breath away. “No,” she admits softly. “I love this team. This sport. Even when it drives me crazy.”
I laugh, nodding. “Oh, I know that feeling. It drives me so crazy that sometimes, I do dumb shit.”
“Like almost hitting a Team Principal, and offending their team,” she adds.
“Yeah.” I scratch the back of my neck. “Like foolishly almost hitting a Team Principal, and offending their team.” I look at the background of the restaurant, avoiding eye contact with her for a while. A DJ is playing some loungy music, several couples are enjoying their time together, and the rowdiness of coworkers hanging out after more than a couple drinks is just starting.
“I’m sorry,” I utter, looking her in the eyes.
“For what?”
“I wasn’t going to hit you. I’ve never hit a woman in my life. Guys, yes. Women, never, and I'll be keeping it like that. I… I just needed to hit something, and… you were there, and I’m so fucking stupid for doing it… Worse yet, I offended you in front of the cameras…” I swallow dryly. “I was not going to hit you that day, Violet. I wasn’t. I want you to know that. I’m stupid and hot-blooded, but not a monster. I treat women like treasures, not like how it seemed.”
She lets out a long sigh. I can’t figure out if it is relief or frustration, because her expression is neutral. Then, she says, “I trusted you wouldn’t. Even without knowing you, I trusted you wouldn’t. And if you did hit me, just know I was ready to kick your ass. I’ve got a black belt in Krav Maga; you wouldn’t leave the paddock walking straight.”
I let out a low whistle. “Damn. I dodged a bullet. Actually, a well-placed fist or two.”
She laughs, sounding warm and relaxed. “That you did.”
A comfortable silence falls between us. I study Violet’s face in the soft lighting, noticing details I hadn’t before—the slightcrinkle at the corners of her eyes when she smiles, the faint freckles dusting her nose. She’s beautiful, I realize with a jolt. Not just in a conventional sense, but in the way her passion and determination shine through. She’s smart. Self-made. A powerful woman. Hell. I like that. A lot.
Violet catches me staring and raises an eyebrow. “Something on your mind, Foster?”
I clear my throat, my cheeks flushing crimson. “Just thinking about the season ahead. We’ve got our work cut out for us.”
She nods, her expression turning serious. “That we do. But I think we might surprise some people if we keep up our unpredictable, slightly chaotic, momentum.”
“I know it’s only been a month since I joined, but I think we make a good team,” I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
Violet’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of warmth, maybe even affection. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared. She gives a small smile. “We do work well together,” she says carefully. “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. There’s still a long road ahead.”
I nod, understanding her caution. “Of course. One step at a time.”
She glances at her watch and sighs. “I should get going. Early start tomorrow. The glamour of being a CEO and Team Principal, you know?”
I nod again, trying to hide my disappointment that the evening is ending. “Of course. Thanks again for dinner. And for everything, really.”
Violet stands, gathering her things. “You’re welcome. Just keep up the good work, and we’ll call it even.”
As we walk out of the restaurant together, I’m acutely aware of her presence beside me. The night air is cool.
“Here,” I say, shrugging off my parka and holding it out to her to calm the slight shivers she is trying to hide.
She hesitates for a moment before accepting it with a small smile. “Thanks.”
We pause at the curb, an awkward silence falling between us. I’m not sure how to say goodbye—a handshake feels too formal after the evening we’ve shared, but anything else might be crossing a line.
As we stand there, a sudden urge to prolong the moment comes out of nowhere. “Let me walk you to your car,” I offer.
Violet hesitates, then nods. “Alright.”
