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But she wasn’t convinced. And that was what hurt the most, that she didn’t believe in us as a team.
“I need to get back to the States. To talk to my mom, to feel grounded again. I don’t think this life is for me. All the travel and instability. I’m sorry, Max.”
Then she kissed me good-bye, and I was left heartbroken, alone in a hotel room.
◊
Lily
Late in the afternoon, when the scorching Texas sun is high in the sky, I’m alone in the makeshift office at the paddock, feeling a tiny bit better. One of the first things the crew assembles is the office pod, which kind of looks like a modular classroom or a mobile home. All I care about is that it’s air conditioned in this Texas heat.
Now that Max isn’t nearby—he is doing an interview with a German magazine this afternoon—I feel much more like my old self.
Organized, purposeful, and in control. I’ve already talked with Anh; she’s coming to the Boots and BBQ party tonight, and I can’t wait to see her. And Mum texts with good news: my father’s met with a nutritionist and is in good spirits. My weird parents are apparently getting along well.
Don’t worry about us, dear. Papa says to focus on the team.
She then sent a selfie of the two of them. A half hour later I spot the same photo on her Instagram. Which is probably good because the press will pick it up and dissect her caption, taking the heat off me for a bit. Thanks, Mumsy.
“Whatever works for them,” I murmur at my phone, then turn back to a lengthy recap written by Jack of the last race. Esteban needs to work on his focus, the team needs to prioritize tweaking the engine.
In reality, Jack writes,we’re not entirely certain how to unleash the potential for Max’s car. Max’s driving is in top form but we need to slice and dice the data, which isn’t correlating with what Max is feeling and experiencing when actually behind the wheel.
I take a minute to absorb this. When winning Formula World races, it all comes down to milliseconds. Sometimes it’s driver performance, like breaking a fraction of a second too late. Other times it’s the car and tuning it to get the most out of the combined petrol internal combustion engine and electric motors. Then there’s the team and the pit stops, and if someone fumbles during a tire change, it can alter the course of the race.
Those aren’t my decisions, though—it’s why we pay top dollar for brilliant engineers to craft the perfect car. I’m merely my father’s eyes and ears. Still, I love the sport and want to know what’s going on. I love the technical details, and that’s one of the reasons why I went to work for the racing game designer. I could be around the sport but not in it.
I fire off several emails about Max’s engine issue in Miami. It’s a complicated matter because any changes to an engine could result in penalties, such as Max being knocked down on the starting grid. It’s essential we get these things clarified by the sport’s governing body immediately.
If we make power unit changes to Max Becker’s car prior to the Austin race, will we be penalized? I write in an email to Jack. There’s also another issue: If we replace Max’s power unit, must we also replace Esteban’s? Doing so would cost the team millions, something I’d like to avoid on my watch. We’re not a big team backed by a car company.
As I’m going over the sport’s rules discussing at length which engine components lead to penalties, there’s a knock on the flimsy office door.
“Come in,” I call.
Tanya saunters through the door, holding a clipboard and a cell.
“Hey, there.” I move my bag off a seat and she plunks down.
“You look happier,” she says.
“Feeling much better. I’ve spent the last few hours reading through reports, getting up to speed. I think I can do this.”
“You absolutely can. And I have some good news. The press release about you and your father is getting great play, and your mother’s statement and photo on Instagram are playing well. We’re also seeing a lot of positive reaction to you taking over the team. ESPN is already speculating about what it would be like to have you as the owner of your father’s team. They’re saying more women need to lead the sport. Even Savannah Jenkins weighed in.”
“What did she say?”
“That she’d welcome you as competition.”
I lean back in my chair, laughing. “It’s true that the sport needs more women, but I’m probably not the woman to lead the charge. She is, though.”
“We’ll see about that.” Tanya’s eyes twinkle. “About the schedule. Tonight, at the Boots and BBQ event, you’ll be meeting with the TelecomCo rep. That’s a big one, since they’re our largest sponsor and their company headquarters are here in Austin. I’ll be there, and so will Esteban and a few team engineers.”
Whew. At least I won’t be around Max. I’m not sure if I can handle watching him flirt his way through a dinner party. “Location and dress code?”
She flips a few pages on her legal pad. “They’ve rented an authentic and well-reviewed taqueria, so I’d say business casual. In Texas that means jeans and a blouse, I’m told. Nothing formal. My intern is out buying boots for you now. The event begins in a couple of hours, so I suggest you shower and change here at the track in the team locker room. I’ll clear the space. Saturday’s the big pre-race bash.”
I stare longingly at my suitcase in the corner. We’d come here directly from the airport, and I needed to freshen up and change. “Damn, I was hoping to get to the hotel and unwind a bit before any social obligations.”
