Page 66 of Retrograde
‘Hey, Gabriel. What can I do for you?’
‘What are you doing right now, Anderson?’
Brett frowned, questioning where this was going. ‘Just gardening, planting some flowers out the front… why?’
‘How would you feel if Jasper and I sent a plane out to Florence airport and brought you to Paris for dinner with your team tonight?’
‘What?’ Brett wondered if he’d heard him incorrectly. After all, it was loud. He could hear mechanics and engineers working away, the sound of engines as multiple cars exited the pits. ‘Are you serious?’
Gabriel laughed heartily. ‘One hundred per cent! Jasper has had confirmation that you’ve begun therapy– good on you, by the way– and he wants to make sure you still feel connected to Revolution, that you stay motivated to keep pushing through so you can come back and join us. Like he said, this break from racing isn’t supposed to be a punishment! We’ve certainly missed having you around, Anderson.’
‘I’d love to, Gabriel. Thank you.’ He swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat.
‘Not a problem. Now, Jasper still doesn’t want you at the track. He’s sticking to his rules. Plus it would cause quite a stir. But he’ll give your driver the address of the restaurant, and if you give his last name to the host,they’ll seat you. We’re not telling the team, either. It’s a surprise.’
‘Oh, it’s definitely a surprise, sir.’
Gabriel gasped suddenly. ‘You won’t have to miss a therapy session, will you?’
‘No,’ Brett laughed. ‘Had one yesterday. I have three days until my next one.’
‘Excellent. Do you need a car to take you to Florence? Sorry, it’s all quite last minute. I’m not sure why we didn’t think of it before!’
‘I think Lucie’s dad will drive me if I slip him some euros. He likes having things to do while Rosa is down at the local market.’
‘In that case, I’ll send through all the information you need. Looking forward to seeing you, Anderson.’
As Brett hung up the phone, he rushed to track down Mateo out by the barns. He was working on his mint-green 1956 Ford Thunderbird, polishing it to perfection. ‘Mr Carolan?’
‘You all right, Brett?’ Mateo stopped what he was doing immediately upon hearing the haste in Brett’s voice. ‘Has something happened?’
‘Um, any chance you could drive me to the airport in Florence, please? The team have invited me to dinner, they’re sending a plane.’
Mateo’s face lit up. ‘That’s wonderful! Of course I will. I suggest you change your outfit, though. Not sure muddy knees will convince your boss you’ve got your shit together.’
‘No…’ He looked down. ‘Glad I had my suitprofessionally cleaned after that night in Monaco. I knew I’d have a reason to wear it at some point, even if Luce teased me relentlessly for it.’
‘Borrow my crocs if you want, that’ll make her chuckle.’
After they’d both changed, Brett now feeling much more like his usual self with his work boots left safely in the utility room, the pair set off to Florence, blasting nineties R&B.
Life felt good. Hopeful. For the first time in a long time, he felt motivated to stay healthy and make some changes. Very necessary changes if he didn’t want to hit a point of no return. He missed sitting down to dinner with a beer, but he knew that beer always led to whisky or vodka, which was always too much.
Even with the heavy topics he discussed in therapy, he felt clearer-headed. Like he was capable of being so much more than a racing driver.
Why shouldn’t he have a happy relationship? Why shouldn’t he buy some land and build a house, grow his own food, get a dog. That was what his happy ever after had looked like up until Sienna had broken him. Why was he giving her so much power all these years later? Had she not taken enough from him? He was sick of letting her win. And if he wanted to be the kind of man his dad would be proud of, didn’t that mean he shouldn’t go through life alone?
It wasn’t until he walked into the restaurant a few hours later that it sunk in. He was nervous. The panic attacks of his past had been threatening to make acomeback, but he’d kept them at bay. It was just the night terrors he needed to get under control, and night terrors couldn’t haunt him so much in the daytime. But right now? His breathing was off,hefelt off. He was nervous not only to see his team and crew, but to see Lucie. He hadn’t seen her for almost a week, and he knew that there was a strange kind of tension between them. A sexual tension like nothing they’d shared before. He was so worried she would feel as though he was using her, but he didn’t want to stop. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that his reputation had ruined any shot he had of keeping her.
‘No way!’ Marco’s voice rang out through the restaurant. ‘Anderson, what the hell are you doing here, bro?’ His teammate’s brown eyes went wide as he took in Brett sitting at their table in his fancy linen shirt. He’d sat on the plane and then in the car still as a statue, careful not to crease it. He was hyper-aware of making a good impression today, and purposely hadn’t ordered a drink yet so everyone would clearly hear him ask for an iced water.
‘Ah! Anderson! You been waiting long?’ Jasper was the first to reach him, shaking his hand and making it clear to the rest of the team that he was here by invitation.
‘Only twenty minutes or so. Congrats on the great result, guys.’ He stood up to greet his team, Garrett Woods included, and gratefully accepted every hug he was offered.
By the time Lucie reached him and threw her arms round his waist, he was fighting the urge to lean downand kiss her right there on the lips in front of the entire restaurant.
The guys had done an excellent job and taken them over the finish line in second place, which was outstanding for a race as gruelling as Le Mans. Lucie and Faith had posted fantastic content, made great progress with Girls Off Track. And Brett? He washere. Celebrating with them.
