Page 114 of On The Edge

I bristle at that. At his lack of faith. At his ability to think so little of me and yet have no problem throwing me into a situation like this with a man he really didn’t know for the sake of his business venture. Is this a man I really want to work for long-term if he thinks of me this way?

What if Cruz was an absolute prick? What if things had turned out the polar opposite?

I took the job. I didn’t really question things yet accepted the terms. But for some reason, and maybe it’s because he’s bad-mouthing Cruz, this is hitting me all wrong right now.

Oblivious to my train of thought, he keeps talking. “Not only did you step up to the plate in this regard, but you also did an incredible comparative on the energy drink market that gave me a different vantage point to look at. A different set of eyes. I was impressed and wondered why I hadn’t noticed your work before.”

“Because there are people in middle management competing for your attention just as much as I was, and therefore why show you something that would rival their work?” I say without really thinking about it.

Silence eats up the distance and I wonder if I’ve overstepped. I sink my teeth into my lower lip and wait to see what he says.

“There’s a reason I asked you to attend the meeting today, Maddix. And your work is one of them.”

“Thank you,” I say cautiously.

“Don’t thank me yet. The management at Revive are workhorses. You might be in New York for a few days, but they’ll probably make it feel like a week by the time you leave.”

“I’m grateful for the opportunity.”

“Make the best of it.”

“I will.”

“Just think, you’ll most likely be done with all this Cruz nonsense after the Austin race. The board will have voted, the ink on the signatures will be dry, and you can figure out a creative way to publicly break things off with him.”

“Okay.” I swear to God the word catches in my throat.

In fact, this whole trip has felt this way. Especially being called to these New York meetings as a Genesee representative at the same time as race week in Mexico.

It’s like I’m so very excited to be here, to get to work in this city I love, but know I’m missing out on all the new experiences of being there too.

And more than anything, I already miss Cruz.

Ridiculous, I know. We’ve been together almost every single day for over three months and so I should welcome this time for myself. This time to be able to breathe without Formula 1 everything being in my face . . . but weirdly, it has become a part of my life now. My temporary life, but my life nonetheless.

Sofia was right.

“The rumbling in your chest. The whine of the engines. You hear it when you close your eyes at night to sleep.”

It’s become so much a part of me.

I pick up my phone and fire off a text.

Me: Don’t get in too much trouble while I’m gone. And kick ass on the track.

“Miss Hart, are you ready to get started?”

I look up at the man waltzing into the room in a no-nonsense manner and the three women walking in behind him. If New York had a type, they are the personification of it. Brusque. Cosmopolitan. Efficient.

“Yes. I’m excited to get started.”

“Great. After Kevin’s glowing commendations, we have high expectations of you.”

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Cruz

“Christ, Navarro. Quit being such a buzzkill and get your ass out here. The race is done and over with. The hard work is over. The interviews have been given. The autographs have been signed. Now is the time to go and have the fun we bust our asses to enjoy.”