Page 18 of Downforce

Annalise’s voice pushes in right behind my mother’s. I can’t stop the scowl that crosses my expression.

It reminds me of what I overheard her say years ago. That I wasn’t good enough. That I was a waste of space on the grid.

She, like many others, assumes the only reason I’ve come as far as I have in my career is because of my last name. The uppity way she tossed those words around assure me that she’s every bit the princess I pegged her for years ago.

Heat that I can only assume is anger courses through me at the same time a vision of those sparkling wide eyes and flaming red hair appear in my mind.

“What time did they want to meet?” I suddenly ask Edwin in order to stop the bullshit thoughts going on inside of my head.

He grins like a Cheshire cat. “I knew you’d come around.” He claps me on the back. “I’ll text her back.”

Might as well enjoy the little free time I have with someone whose name I won’t remember in a few weeks.

CHAPTER 6

Annalise

Me: What time will you arrive?

I check the time again, even though I did so thirty seconds ago. It’s five of eleven and Travis is scheduled to arrive at the photoshoot location in another fifteen minutes. Amato has their shoot before the customary group photoshoot of all twenty drivers on this year’s grid lineup.

While his Amato team has his racing suit and helmet, I’ve brought a few other supplies he’ll need for the shoot and am here to assist the photographer in any way he needs.

Travis doesn’t answer within a few minutes, which leads me to conclude that he’s driving and on his way. Instead of staring at my phone, I head inside. When I glance up, it’s to see a few of the Formula 2 drivers entering the large hangar structure where today’s shoot is taking place.

The building and lot are owned by the FIA.

“Annalise.” Sascha, an FIA employee, waves.

“Hey,” I greet and point toward the entrance. “That’s Bree Walters, isn’t it?”

She nods excitedly. “That’s right. They all just finished their shoot this morning.”

“I can’t wait to see what she does this season,” I comment, watching Bree walk away while talking to one of the other F2 drivers. “She’s amazing to watch on the track.”

“I know! And they say that Create’s car is looking good this year, too,” Sascha confirms the news I’ve heard as well of the Formula 2 team’s chances.

“Let’s hope it’s not a lie. If Bree performs the way I think she can and has a good car to boot, her chances to reach Formula 1 are within grasp.”

Sascha looks at me askance.

Did I say something wrong? I go back over my previous comment.

“You think so?” There’s laughter in her voice as if that’s the last thing on Earth she would’ve expected me to say.

“You don’t?”

She shakes her head. “What do I know?” She throws up her hand. “I’m going to go see if they need help finishing up in there.”

I watch her go, wondering what she might know that I don’t. I mean, in the world of motorsport there’re always secrets. Teams wouldn’t be able to keep their advantage without some secrets, obviously.

But what’s not a secret is how excellent of a driver Bree Walters is. The daughter of a French-Senegalese businessman and a Black American mother, she’s poised to leave her mark on this sport, in my opinion. This will be her third year in Formula 2 after making the switch over from motorcycle racing.

No, there’s never been a woman with a long-term career in the history of Formula 1, and not one this century, but my money is on her to be the first.

Shaking off thoughts about Bree, I head inside to where the photographer for today’s shoot has set up. My phone buzzes with a message from Travis.

“Shit.”