“Ooh, that’s good.”
“No, I’m just venting. I have to come up with a response to that!” She pointed at the post on Charles’s phone, which kept pinging as thelikes and comments flooded in. She handed it to him. “Will you please mute that thing already?”
“Sorry.” Charles silenced his phone. “You’ll think of something. You always do.”
“It’s more difficult now. We’re on the same team.”
“Oh …that.”
“Yes …that.Trust me, he’s already got a response ready to any reaction on my part. He’s going to say something like he was just joking, it’s all in good fun, part of the team dynamic. He’ll accuse me of overreacting, say I’m too sensitive—or worse—hysterical. I wouldn’t be surprised if he suggested I was on my period.”
Charles nodded. “As though men don’t have periods.”
Nico frowned.
“You know what I mean,” Charles said. “We get moody too.”
“Damn skippy, you do.”
“Look, you’ll come up with something. What’s that saying: Revenge is best served as an ice-cold martini—either that or coffee ice cream.”
“You mean revenge is a dish best served cold.”
“Exactly. So, let’s take a deep breath, sit back, watch a movie, cool our jets, and afterward we’ll have that ice-cold martini and coffee ice cream and come up with something.”
Charles was right. She was too upset to come up with a good response, let alone a coherent one. Better to calm down and think it through.
“Okay. So, what do you want to watch?”
Charles’s eyes were gleaming. “You know what …”
“Oh, please,” Nico groaned. “NotThe Notebook. Again.”
Charles made a face. “How many times have I sat throughThe Princess Bride?”
Nico sighed. “It is your turn, isn’t it? Okay,The Notebookit is.”
Charles’s lip curled like the Grinch’s when he’d come up with a plan to ruin Christmas for all the Whos down in Whoville. “I’m not thinking of movies. I’m thinking of the perfect response to that post. Who says your response has to be on social media? Well, actually, it’ll probably end up there. Oh yeah, there’s no way you do this and it doesn’t.”
“What happened to the martini and ice cream?”
“We can still have them as we plot the details.”
“Okay,” Nico said apprehensively, “well, let me hear it, and then I’ll decide whether or not I’ll do it.”
“My dear, no one knows you better than I do. You’ll do it.”
CHAPTER SIX
ROCCO
Rocco and Dario headed down to the ground floor of Maverick Racing headquarters.
The complex appeared to have everything one would need not only to design, develop, and manufacture a Formula 1 car, but also to assemble and operate it and to handle the business end when it comes to packing up the entire works and traveling across the globe with everything in tow.
There was a reason Formula 1 had been referred to as a traveling circus. That’s exactly what it was.
Rocco had to admit the owner seemed serious and willing to put money into the operation. The place was equipped with state-of-the-art technology—the latest in AI and machine learning. There was a driver-in-loop simulator, wind tunnel, and dynos. There was also a gym, sauna, showers, and even a cafeteria.
