Page 92 of Flat Out
For the quickest moment, the candlelight caught a flush high on her cheekbones, but Ivy didn’t so much as glance at either of them, only lifted her glass in a graceful arc, the faintest twitch of her lips betraying amusement. Queens didn’t entertain pawns unless it was for sport.
She tipped her glass toward me, eyes glittering. “Remember, darling. The British love drama.” The smirk sharpened, her toast slicing the air. “It’s Silverstone. Hope you’re ready for your close-up.”
The next morning,the paddock was already humming when we arrived, even though it wasn’t much past nine. Steel cases clattered over asphalt, radios buzzed with staticky voices, power tools sounded in the distance as teams tinkered with new setups before the first official sessions.
Silverstone’s air was damp and cool, carrying the scent of fried food drifting from the vendors already setting up outside the gates. It made my stomach churn, and a metallic taste filled my mouth.
Ugh. If I seriously threw up right now, I would be utterlymortified. All the nerves were starting to catch up to me.
I tugged my jacket tighter against the chill. Austria’s heat already felt like a lifetime ago. Here, the gray sky pressed low, threatening rain–the kind of weather that seeped into your bones.
Callum stretched his shoulders once, grimacing as he shifted the strap of his bag. His bruises were still fading, now just faint shadows across his skin, but the way he winced when he moved sent a pulse of worry through me anyway.
“I have to go to the medical center, love,” he said, jerking his chin toward the far end of the paddock. “Doctor wants another look before clearing me to race. Physical therapy after.”
Marco snorted. “Careful, they’ll poke and prod until you squeal.”
“He likes it,” Kimi deadpanned.
Callum just flipped them both off, which only made Marco grin wider.
“Two hours?” Ivy asked, glancing at her phone, preparing for the three meetings stacked before noon. She’d been complaining about it since the flight yesterday.
“Two hours,” Callum confirmed. “Meet back here and get mic’d?” His eyes flicked to me, softening just enough to make my chest ache. He didn’t know what I was up to this morning. Not yet. “Stay out of trouble.”
I gave him a quick nod, distracted, because my phone buzzed in my hand. The screen lit up with a number I knew too well.Étienne. This was the first time I’d heard from anyone in my family since the blow-up in Monaco, and now my stomach was roiling for an entirely different reason.
Callum scrutinized me, eyes narrowing skeptically. I gave him a watery smile. “I’ll be fine,” I said quickly, before he could press. “See you in a couple, mon amour.”
He frowned but didn’t push, letting the crowd swallow him as he strode toward the medical center. Marco and Kimi followed, bickering in low voices, Ivy trailing with her usual feline grace.
I waited until they turned the corner, the knot in my stomach tightening, before slipping out of the paddock the other way.
The town office was quiet,tucked into a row of gray-brick buildings not far from the circuit. No crowds, no engines, no cameras. Just the tick of a wall clock and the scratch of a pen across paper as I signed my name one last time.
Aurélie Camille Dubois.
My new address stared back at me in bold type. Not the family estate, not the team-provided flat in Paris.Mine.For the first time ever, I had a place to call my own that wasn’t controlled by anyone but me.
The finality of it settled heavy on my shoulders. I’d wanted this for months–years, even. Freedom, independence, a space no one else could touch. But now that the papers were in front of me, it felt less like a beginning and more like cutting a cord I wasn’t sure I was ready to sever. I’d been so caught up in this new world, in the never-ending turn of events that seemed to be my life, that I hadn’t let myself process any of it.
Across the desk, the notary tapped the papers to straighten them in a pile, droning on about scanning everything to the mortgage company and the attorney’s office coordinating the closing. I barely listened, because the fatiguing fog lingering in my brain made it difficult to concentrate.
Maybe I needed more caffeine. Or something to eat. Probably the latter, because coffee on an empty stomach sounded like my literal worst nightmare right now.
My phone buzzed against the desk. My hand shook as I unlocked the screen, rising from my seat and thanking thenotary. As I slipped through her office door, I opened the message thread that I’d been avoiding for the last hour.
Étienne
Maman et Papa said you bought a house. Congratulations!!!
I can help you move some things? Or make sure your car is running?
Just that. No apology, no accountability, no mention of Monaco.
My throat closed around the rush of emotions the texts dragged to the surface. I wasn’t ready to face him, to reopen wounds that still bled when I thought about that massive argument in my hospitality suite. They’d been livid that I signed with Ferrari without consulting them. They wanted to control me. Étienne had accused me of wanting to be better than him. Called me selfish.
And then I’d come clean about me taking Étienne’s seat while he was still in the hospital. That I barely hesitated before accepting an opportunity to participate in testing with Luminis.
