Page 67 of Overtake
“All night.” Asuka doesn’t sound the least bit troubled by this. “Petra, we’ll need thorough feedback from you during the reconnaissance laps to fine-tune the settings.”
I nod. “Just give me a list.”
Dad looks at me from beneath his brows. “You okay with this?”
“Absolutely. Better a difficult car than a DNF.”
“Right.” He touches my arm. “Then go get sleep. The team can handle this.”
I hesitate.
His brows go up. “If you’re compensating for mechanical issues tomorrow, you need to be sharp. That means proper rest and recovery.”
Asuka nods. “We’ve got this. Engineering will have a full briefing ready for you in the morning.”
“I’ll get the coffee started.” Zara stands. “The team’s gonna need it.”
I know they’re right, but leaving feels wrong. Still, years of training tell me a tired driver is a dangerous driver, especially with a compromised car. And they don’t need me to tell them how to do their jobs.
“Fine. I want complete details. Every setting, every adjustment.”
“Copy that, boss,” Bowie says, already deep in differential maps with Hans, Zara, and Asuka.
Zara smiles, looking as fresh as a fucking daisy. I don’t know how she does it, especially with a chronic health condition. She should be wilting more than me, and I’m in awe of her. As usual.
Dad gives me a gentle shove toward the door. “Get out of here.”
Tomorrow just got more interesting, but I’m not tired enough to return to the hotel. I’ve got nervous energy and if I don’t burn it off, I’ll be up half the night. So instead of leaving the circuit, I return to my driver’s room and change into trackies and running shoes. A quick run around the track will burn off the last of my Saturday energy, then I’ll go back to the hotel, carbo load, shower, and sleep.
“Back to the hotel, Ms. Hayter?” Rodrigo appears as I emerge from my driver’s room.
“No. I want to run first. Burn off some of this energy.”
He falls in beside me as I head toward the track’s service road. Rigo’s both protective and unobtrusive, and I appreciate that his presence buys me time to think.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Where’s your focus tonight?”Esteban adjusts Nico’s position during their workout. It’s evening, but a few other drivers are in the gym with their performance coaches, so he and Nico are speaking Gallego, Esteban’s mother tongue.
“Thinking about tomorrow’s race.” They’re doing neck training, Nico wearing a neck harness and resisting the weight his physio has added to it. He loves and hates this training in equal measures.
“And the stewards’ decision? And Graham’s threats? And whatever happened here with Petra?” When Nico doesn’t respond, Esteban sighs. “I heard something interesting from Jacintha Hayter.”
That gets his attention. “What?”
“Focus.” Esteban taps Nico’s head, then answers. “Nitro has a rear suspension issue with Petra’s car. Their engineering team’s pulling an all-nighter to find workarounds.”
Nico grasps the weight to ease the pressure against his neck. “How bad?”
“Bad enough to need creative solutions. Not bad enough to give up the pole for a pit lane start.” Esteban takes the weightfrom him and adjusts the harness as Nico sits up. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t.”
“Right. Like you didn’t care about the Singapore incident?”
Time for isometric exercises. “That was about fair racing.” Nico holds his head in place, resisting the pull that Esteban asserts against the harness.
“Suuure. Like Carlos was just concerned about general safety regulations when he fought the FIA?”
