He accepts the device, takes a few steps back, then hits me with a dazzling smile. “I’ll see you in Australia, Evangeline.”
Tears well in my eyes again. I’m too scared to speak—to jinx myself or say something that will make him rescind the offer and leave me back at square one.
I’m going to Australia, like I planned.
“See you down under,” I reply with a small smile.
I’m still smiling when I coast down Alaric’s driveway, finally moving forward.
CHAPTER 9
EVANGELINE
MELBOURNE, AUSTRALIA
Elation sparks through my every cell as I breeze through the metal detector, then scan my credentials to enter the paddock for the first time this season.
As I go, I trace the thick lanyard hanging around my neck. The red fabric is heavily woven and accented by the red, white, and black pass with my picture and access credentials listed below.
I’m not here on a guest pass or as a WAG today. No, I’m a full-time employee, and for the first time in my life, I’m officially part of a Formula 1 team.
I can’t help but grin as I push through the sleek turnstile.
“Hold up,” Mia calls from behind me.
I turn, searching for her.
She shifts over to the side for a random security screening. A woman in a uniform waves a circular wand across her torso and limbs, then ask her to turn so she can check her back.
Smirking, Shelby breezes past her younger sister.
Mia and Shelby make up one of two sibling pairs racing the grid this season. We met as kids, with Mia, Shelby, and Auri all rising through the ranks in karting, regional races, Formula 4, and Formula 3. That’s where Auri’s career ended, much to her chagrin. She suffers from migraines and POTS, and the downforce of the advanced tiers of this sport were too much for her chronic pain.
She didn’t leave the sport entirely, though. She’s a race engineer for Gwen Ford with Kelly.
Shelby went on to Formula 2 before securing her seat in Formula1 six years ago. She drives for Pavo, a Swedish team, and has been with them for two years.
“Excited for your first day?” she asks, coming to stand beside me.
“Honestly, yes,” I confess. “I didn’t expect any of this to work out.”
With a knowing smile, she wraps one arm around my shoulder and squeezes. “I’m really glad it did. You belong here with us.”
The sentiment bolsters my flailing confidence, and the nerves dancing through my veins temper a little.
I’ve spent the last seventy-two hours oscillating between excitement and panic, anticipation and dread.
I love this sport, and all my best friends are involved in Formula 1.
Maybe the best part is the chance to be involved in something bigger than myself.
Still.
I loathe the idea of seeing Luca regularly, and I’m dreading the questions from the people who don’t know we’re not together anymore. I suspect there will also be random comments from acquaintances who don’t possess the tact not to ask about the demise of our relationship. Thankfully, Luca doesn’t seek out the spotlight like some of the other drivers, and he made a point to keep our relationship out of the media. I don’t think he ever posted a picture of me or us together on his socials while we were dating. In retrospect, this discretion screams cheater, cheater pumpkin eater.
Despite my unease about facing Luca, I’m still happy to be here. I’m tired of minimizing myself. Tired of settling for the path of least resistance. I can do hard things, and Shelby isn’t the only one who’s glad I’m here. I’m really happy to be here, too.
Even so, I’m unbelievably anxious about the actual work I’ll be doing.
