Page 20 of Fast & Reckless
She froze, heart pounding, heat pooling in all kinds of places. So he’d felt it too. The humor faded from his expression, and she knew from the heat in his steady gaze, that he was absolutely serious. Her mouth opened to reply, although she had no idea what she was going to say … what sheshouldsay … what she wanted to say. Because she wanted him, there was no denying that simple fact. She just couldn’t have him.
“I—”
“Please tell me this is my wine.”
Violet dropped heavily in her chair and seized the glass, taking a hefty swig.
Mira jerked back in her chair. “Um.” She paused to clear her throat. “Everything okay?”
“What?”
“Your phone call?”
Violet shook her head. “Nothing. Just haunted by ghosts. You know how it is.”
Oh, yes, she knew. And her own ghosts were just the reminder she needed to keep her head on straight. She’d just been dancing at the edge of a cliff with Will, but she absolutely refused to let herself be pulled over into the abyss.
11
Sakhir, Bahrain
A year of aerodynamic and mechanical design, months of planning, thousands of hours of work by hundreds of workers, and it all came down to testing in Bahrain, one week before the Bahrain Grand Prix. The top-secret planning and development would be secret no longer.
There would be no official winners after these three days on the track. The goal was to test the cars, make sure they were sound, and to generate data for the development teams back at the factories, so they could see if the cars they’d designed on computers and in wind tunnels were performing as predicted. But unofficially, a lot of prognosticating would happen in testing, and it would quickly become clear which teams had shown up with the cars and drivers to win this season, and which would face an uphill battle.
Adding to the pressure, the first race of the season was just over a week later. If there were any problems with the car, after testing there would only be six days to get it fixed before they had to be back on the track for qualifying.
Her father, the person in charge of the whole thing, was understandably on edge, but you’d never know it from lookingat him. The sun was blinding as Mira hurried toward the garage at his side. He seemed so calm in the midst of the chaos.
“Mira, can you check in with David and make sure they’re getting the data at the factory?”
“Already done. Video feed is good and all departments have confirmed they’re receiving the telemetry.”
“And can you make sure Ravinder’s on headset? I want him listening in.”
“He’s on headset in the office, taking notes. I’ll upload them to the server after the session.”
“And did David send over those updated numbers—”
“Already programmed into the onboard computer.”
He looked briefly at her without breaking his stride. “Well done, Mira.”
She wanted to wallow in his praise, but there wasn’t time. When they reached the garage, Matteo was already in his car so it was almost time to go. Omar handed Matteo his steering wheel and watched as Matteo clipped it into place and tested its functions. When Matteo’s race engineer gave the go-ahead, Omar gave a thumbs-up and he fired the engine. The roar was immense. Mira could feel it in the ground under her feet, several meters away. Despite the nerves that came with testing, she couldn’t help but feel a thrill, like this was the night before Christmas. It was almost here.
Then the mechanics around the car pulled back and Matteo headed out onto the track. Her father took up his spot in front of a bank of monitors, headphones on, feet braced apart, one hand curled under his mouth and the other arm crossed over his chest. His external calm was deceiving. His entire compact frame radiated coiled energy and intensity, and that steely gaze of his didn’t miss a single detail.
He’d seemed so all-powerful when she was little, hardly the sort of warm, affectionate father to plop a little girl on his lap and read her bedtime stories. That wasn’t Paul Wentworth’s style. When she was older and started spending summers with him on the road, they’d finally established a genuine and affectionate bond, one that centered on the sport she’d grown to love as much as he did. Then she’d blown that to bits, and they’d been distant ever since. Now that she was on the circuit with him again, it was improving, but doing well in this job would go a long way.
Matteo’s first lap was an installation lap as the engineers trackside and back at the factory poured through reams of real-time telemetry looking for anything the least bit awry. He circled back to the pits and shut it down for a systems check, and only after the team was completely satisfied that everything was screwed together properly did the mechanics fuel the car for a twenty-lap stint and refire the engine.
