Violet's expression softens immediately. "That's nothing to be shy about. In fact, it's refreshing to hear a driver speak openly about seeking support."
Felix relaxes slightly. "Thank you. It's still not something we talk about much in this paddock."
"Perhaps we should," Violet says simply, then shifts gears smoothly. "I should be transparent, though. Colton Racing can't offer anything close to what you'd be accustomed to at Baretta. Their budget for a single driver exceeds our entire operational expenses for almost half a year."
I wince inwardly. Felix was making nineteen million a year at his peak—an astronomical figure for a team like ours.
"I'm aware." Felix nods. "I'm prepared for a considerable adjustment if this is the right fit. Money isn't my primary concern right now."
I can't help the grin that spreads across my face as I watch them talk, the possibility of this actually happening growing witheach exchange. Felix at Colton Racing. My oldest friend, the guy who gave me his hand-me-down racing gear when my parents couldn't afford new, joining the team that gave me my chance.
Violet notices my expression and shakes her head slightly, amusement dancing in her eyes.
"You're doing that thing kids do at school when they're trying to get their friends into their class," she observes, the corners of her mouth lifting.
"Is it working?" I ask hopefully.
To my delight, she laughs—a warm, genuine sound that does weird things to my insides. "Surprisingly, yes."
She turns back to Felix, her expression growing more serious. "You're a tremendous driver, Felix. Strategic on track in a way few are. Your feedback to engineers is legendary in the paddock." She pauses. "Having someone with your experience would be invaluable as we develop this car, especially for a young driver like EJ."
Felix straightens slightly, clearly pleased by the recognition. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you."
"You know my background, then?" Violet asks.
"I know you raced karts," he says with respect in his voice. "Regional champion, if I remember correctly. And your business acumen is quickly becoming the talk of the paddock."
A flash of surprise crosses her face, quickly replaced by appreciation. Not many people remember or acknowledge her racing past. Even I don’t know much beyond what is public.
"Well then," Violet says, rising from her chair. "I think we have things to discuss. Contract details, expectations, schedule. But the fundamental question"—she extends her hand across the desk—"is answered. Welcome to Colton Racing, Felix."
For a second, Felix just stares at her hand, as if he can't quite believe this impromptu meeting has actually resulted in a job offer. Then he stands, taking her hand firmly.
"Thank you. I won't let you down."
I can't contain myself any longer. I leap up and throw my arms around Felix in a bear hug that nearly knocks him off balance.
"This is going to be epic!" I exclaim, pounding him on the back. "The three of us together? We're going to turn this whole grid upside down."
Felix laughs, returning my hug with one arm while shaking his head at Violet over my shoulder. "I apologize in advance for his enthusiasm. It's contagious and occasionally exhausting."
"Oh, I'm well aware," Violet replies, and there's something in her tone that makes me pull back to look at her. Her eyes meet mine, warm and filled with a softness that almost melts me on the spot.
"I'm counting on it, actually," she adds softly. "That enthusiasm is rebuilding this team, one day at a time."
My chest swells with pride and love, but I won’t dare say it out loud, or I’ll spook her. But as the three of us stand there in Violet's office—Felix looking relieved and eager, Violet professional yet warm, and me practically bouncing on my toes with excitement—I know one thing for certain.
This season is going to change everything.
Chapter 9
Desperate for different reasons
William
After handling things with Felix and Violet, I returned to the simulator room for more sessions until late in the afternoon.
In the locker room, I strip quickly, shoving my sweat-soaked gear into a bag. The shower's hot spray pummels my shoulders, washing away the simulator session's physical tension but doing nothing to ease the restless energy building inside me.
