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Pulling out his phone, Dalton glanced at the on-screen app. His brother was still driving toward Germany. He hit the button to call and was not surprised when the call went to voicemail. A frisson of disappointment inched through him.
“I need to make some calls, so we need to make this quick,” Moore announced as he entered the mobile office.
A snarky response flicked through his brain, but Dalton held his tongue and just pointed to the seat next to him. “Let’s get started.”
He waited until Moore was settled and then began, “Rory noted that you need to watch your line going up to turn one. Stay on the outside. The inside is the defensive line. That’s the line you take when you’re racing with someone, but for this session, our real concern is nailing the exit on the corner. So, let’s practice the outside line. Remember to start feeding the gas a hair before the apex of the turn. That will get you up to speed on your exit but avoid the curbing on the way out of the turn. It will unsettle the car, and you’ll bounce all around like this.” He put his hand in the air and moved it back and forth and up and down.
Moore glanced at Dalton’s hand and then down at the paper. “Fine. Got it. Don’t hit the curb.” And then went back to staring at his phone.
“Dennis, I need you to focus on what I’m saying.”
“I said I’ve got it.” The man looked up. “What’s next?” He let out an exasperated sigh.
Twenty minutes later, Moore left to prepare for the practice session. As soon as the door closed behind the man, Dalton leaned back in his chair and blew out a harsh breath. He hadn’t given his brother enough credit. Dealing with Dennis Moore would drive anyone crazy, yet his brother hadn’t complained once. He’d said they had a good rapport. Was that even possible?
Timo breezed into the office. “Time to go. You okay?”
Dalton shook his head. “Sometimes I think I should have quit the racing world and gone into selling insurance. It’s got to be easier than this.”
Timo grinned. “It’s not always that bad. Moore is a very particular client. Mostly, coaching is fun.”
“Sure. Sure. That’s what they all say.” Dalton shook his head as he stood and stretched. Time for him to get ready. “Hey, Mario, can you make sure to keep a close eye on Moore’s car? I want to see exactly what he’s doing on the track.”
“Will do.”
Dalton headed to the other trailer to change into his fire suit. Pulling on his gear never failed to make him smile.
It meant he was going to be racing, and there was no place and nothing on earth he’d rather be doing. Nothing touched the thrill of being in the driver’s seat of a powerful race car. He might not be racing now, but he’d have some fun going around the track, something he didn’t get to do very often anymore. Might just make dealing with the likes of Dennis Moore worth it.
“Good luck out there,” Kendra said as she walked by him to install the water bottle in his car.
“Thanks,” Dalton replied.
The smell of grease and fuel, mixed with the buzzing of tools and people, made his adrenaline surge. He had to admit, just like a junkie, he couldn’t wait for his next fix, his next lap around the track. Racing was an addiction he’d never wanted to give up, but time and experience dictated otherwise. Still, moments like this, the anticipation, the buzzing excitement, were amazing.
Moore wasn’t in his car yet. Scanning the garage, Dalton finally saw him emerging from the restroom. “You ready to go?”
Moore grabbed his helmet. “Yeah. Looking forward to it.” Moore pulled on the protective gear and headed toward his car.
Dalton did the same and then nodded to his head mechanic. “Ready?”
Gus grinned. “Good to go.”
Dalton gave him the thumbs up and then crawled into the car. It was still up on the pins. The guys would put the tires on last to keep them warming in the sun as long as possible. In the European Cup, tire warmers weren’t allowed so they used whatever advantage they could.
Gus pulled the seat into position and fastened Dalton’s six-point safety harness. Then he hooked up the comms and water. He gave Dalton the thumbs up. Dalton nodded in return and gave his old friend the all-ready sign. They’d done this for years. Gus had been his mechanic from the beginning.
Gus hung the safety curtain across and closed the door. After they went through the adjustments with the mirrors, Mario joined them and tested the comms. They were good to go.
Dalton settled in. The air gun hissed as Gus juiced up the tires on this car. Taking a second, he glanced around to check his student’s progress.
Moore was not in his car. Dalton scanned the part of the garage he could see, but no Moore. He could see Mario standing at the screens. “Mario, where the hell is Moore? I thought he was in his car.”
Mario looked up from the screens and then looked around the garage. He hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “He’s on his phone.”
Dalton didn’t bother to reply. Frustration revved in his veins, spinning higher. The rest of the team, along with their coaches, were already heading to the pit lane. The cars were lining up, ready for the start of the session while he sat there waiting for Moore. The mechanics were stowing their tools as the engineers manned their laptops and stared at the wall screens. Everyone had a job, and they were doing it. Except him. He was just sitting, and it drove him nuts.
Ten minutes later, Moore finally climbed into his car. The session had already started. Dalton was ready to go and gave the thumbs up to Gus, who was standing at the door to the garage, watching for other cars coming down the pit lane. Gus was holding him due to traffic, but Moore shot out right in front of him. He looked over at James, Moore’s mechanic, noting the kid’s shocked look. Moore had almost hit another driver as he flew out of the garage.
