Page 16 of Formula Dreams
When I don’t answer, she keeps poking at me.“Really… why don’t you want your friends to know me?You know… I’ve always supported you.”
I stare at her.
She blinks.
My anger bubbles.“Really?Is that what you remember?”I ask, and a mean edge creeps into my voice before I can stop it.“You supporting me?Because I remember you showing up to that junior kart final in Marbella so drunk they wouldn’t let you past the gate.Or how about the time you fell asleep during my prep school awards banquet?Or maybe it’s the time you made a scene at Ascot, trying to climb into a hospitality tent and screaming that you were my manager.Are those the ways you supported me?”
She flinches.It’s small, but I see it.“That was years ago,” she murmurs, flopping another dismissive wave at me.
My upper lip curls over her refusal to take responsibility.“You did it last year at a press event in London.Luckily, security stopped you before you could make a fool out of both of us.”
She opens her mouth, then closes it.Shifts on the chaise like the cushions have turned against her.
I try to soften.God knows why.Habit, maybe.“I’m asking you to go back to rehab,” I say.“To try again.Not for me, but for you.”
“I am trying,” she snaps.“But everyone has a different idea of what that looks like.My therapists say I’m ‘noncompliant.’The doctors think I’m a walking liability.And you—” She gestures at me, a fresh slosh of tea spilling onto her robe.“You all think if I just go to another clinic and eat kale and chant mantras, I’ll come out the other side fixed.”
“No one expects you to be fixed,” I say evenly.“Just sober.”
Vivienne stares at me like I’ve spoken in a language she’s only half learned.
A long beat passes.
Then she huffs and reaches for her pill bottle, popping it open with her thumb.“I wish you’d bring someone home,” she says, as if we’re picking up the conversation where it left off.“A nice girl.A model, maybe.Or someone with a title.I’d love a daughter-in-law.”
My stomach twists.“Did you even hear a word I said, or are you deliberately being obtuse?”
She smiles faintly.“Oh, I hear everything.I just don’t care for the tone.Now, would you like to join me for a drink?”
“No, I would not,” I say.
I leave her in the sitting room, sipping her tea and muttering to herself, and step out onto the back terrace.The view is lovely.Gardens someone else maintains, manicured hedges, a gravel path that leads nowhere.The sky above Woking is a dull wash of clouds, not gray enough to rain, not bright enough to lift anything.Just enough to match my mood.
My phone buzzes in my hand and I mutter a curse when I see it’s Harley Patrick, Crown Velocity’s team principal.My true boss.She’s no-nonsense, sharp, and one of the few people in the sport who has the power to make or break my career.
I answer curtly.“Barnes.”
“Hey,” she says, her tone warm but cautious.“You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I clip out.I’ve never liked this familial tone she takes with her employees.
“You left Suzuka so fast.Told the team it was a family emergency, so I wanted to make sure you don’t need anything.”
“It’s all good.”I glance toward the sitting room window, where the curtain sways like someone brushed past it.“My mum’s sick.I’m with her now.”
There’s a pause.“Do you need some time off?We can spare it this week.Next race isn’t for two weeks, and honestly, no one’s going to blink if—”
“No.”It comes out sharper than I intended, so I reel it back.“Thank you, but I don’t want time off.”
Racing’s the only thing that keeps me sane.
She hesitates.“All right.Just know the option’s open.”
“Is that the only reason you called?”I ask abruptly.She’s my boss, but Harley isn’t the type to waste time on meaningless conversation, so I know she won’t hold efficiency against me.
She shifts into business mode, words picking up pace.“We’ve signed a co-sponsorship with Drivex, that new British sports energy drink launching globally this fall.They want both British teams—Crown and Titans—on a joint campaign.”
“Titans aren’t technically British,” I point out.Which is half true.While the team is now owned by an American based out of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, it was formerly Excalibur Racing, a company based in Great Britain.They’re currently still occupying headquarters in Guildford, which is not far from here, although rumors are they’re going to relocate permanently to the States in the future.
