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‘No, no, I’m here. That’s fine. Send me her number and I’ll call her now.’
‘Will do.’
I hang up and watch Olivia as she joins Harry and they walk over to the slip road that leads onto the track. She’s in her element, and the truth is she’s dragged me right out of the darkness and shown me the fun that can be had when you just let go again. Stop fearing the what-ifs.
And I’m all for it. Right now, I’m all for it.
Cars. Speed. Her. The works.
An engine roars in the distance and its bright orange form comes into view at the mouth of the slip road. I squint. Try to make it out. Its lines are familiar but not. I keep watching and my phone pings. The number for Autumn.
I lift it, eye the number, but find my attention drifting back to Olivia, as it seems to twenty-four-seven these days. Harry’s taking over from the driver and Olivia’s climbing in the passenger seat. My heart and body both lighten.
‘Don’t tell me you have a thing about women drivers?’
Do I? I don’t think I do.
Yes, Layla was driving. But if I hadn’t insisted we stay out later, if I hadn’t distracted her with my antics...
My fist tightens around the phone and I swallow down the rising chill.
Let it go. Let it go and call Autumn back. Focus on work and when it’s done, take Olivia home and show her just how much you’ve enjoyed today, be honest with her about how you feel.
I dial Autumn’s number and deal with her call, her concerns, as readily as if I were a machine because I’ve done this so many times over. But getting to enjoy Olivia’s zest for life is something so new and tantalising and I know I’m not going to be able to give her up when this job is over.
I want this to continue long past our working relationship. I want this to be official. No more blurring of lines. I want this woman to be mine and vice versa. Even now, as I talk details with Autumn, I’m planning tonight’s conversation. I almost laugh. I haven’t asked a girl out since I was in school. To be doing it now...
But then Olivia is fiercely independent. A point she has made to me several times over. I know it’s a risk to play my hand, but what choice do I have? Say nothing and let this end with the job? Not an option. I’d rather regret telling her than walk away and always wonder.
I trace their progress on the track as I continue my conversation with Autumn. I watch as they pull into the pitstop, jumping out, a prancing Olivia racing around to the driver’s seat.
She’s in her element and I feel her joy across the field, feel it ease away all the stress from the morning, when I woke knowing the plans for the day and when I first laid eyes on the track and the speed at which people drive...
I speak to Autumn as I watch the car speed off, the engine rumbling through the ground beneath me, getting faster and faster. I can’t even begin to guess at its speed, but it looks faster than Harry. I keep watching, every corner, every angle. Definitely faster than Harry. Definitely too fast. It’s stupid.
What the hell is she trying to do? Prove a point? Show me that she’s just as talented as a man again, if not more so...but seriously...?
And I get it. I get why she pushes herself so hard, stifled by the men that have come before me, but now she doesn’t need to. Not for me. Notwithme.
I start to walk towards the track as the back end of the car does a rapid wobble before righting again, but my heart is already in my mouth, my stride picking up as my vision blurs at the edges.
‘Valentine—Valentine, are you there?’
‘Yes. Yes, I’m here.’ But what the hell is she doing? She’s going too fast. Way too fast for that corner. She hits it and I watch as the back end slips out, but this time it doesn’t recover and everything seems to slow right down—my breathing, the car, the dust building around it. Just like the night of the accident. The car spins and spins.
Fucking hell, Olivia.
I’m running, my mobile stuffed into my pocket as the car disappears amidst the cloud of dirt, the screeching tyres crippling me. It comes to a final stop, deathly quiet. No collision. No accident. But hell, it could have been, and my heart is racing, my eyes wide and unblinking as I race straight for her.
The doors open and she clambers out, laughing. She’sfuckinglaughing.
‘I’m so sorry, Harry!’
Fuck Harry, what about me?
‘Are you okay?’ My voice roars through the brake dust, overtaking her laughter, which quickly cuts.
‘Of course I’m okay. I was always okay.’
