Dyson smiled. “Only on race day.”
He slid his hands into the pockets of his fire suit and looked at Dr. Wilcox. “Can I steal her for a second, Doc?”
Dr. Wilcox nodded. “She’s all yours.”
With that, Dr. Wilcox headed in the direction of the team garage. Dyson turned towards me.
“Second place?” I said, crossing my arms at my chest. “I could’ve watched you finish second sitting at home. I didn’t have to come all the way down here.”
Dyson chuckled at my protest. “It’s always better in person. And don’t worry, second place is only temporary.”
“I should hope so.”
He nodded at me, flicking his chin in my direction. “Let’s take a walk.”
I won’t pretend it was easy. The throng of people literally crushed us as we tried to get out of the post-race melee.
However, early on, Dyson insisted I hold his hand.
The entire way, the mass of bodies spread apart with ease as he moved through them like an icebreaker. Well-wishers patted him on the back the entire way, encouraging him to keep driving, stay aggressive, and do what it takes.
As we walked, I kept my eyes down, clinging to him as we moved. After what seemed like forever, but was probably no more than five minutes, we emerged from the crowd into an area of relative peace and quiet.
“So, what did you think?” Dyson said, turning and stopping to face me. “Your very first Formula One race? Maybe your boyfriend will win next time.”
I shifted my jaw, glaring at his smart ass comment. “Who’s to say my boyfriend didn’t win this time?”
Dyson leaned back, roaring with laughter and clapping his hands together. “You had fun though, right?”
I smiled, amused at his amusement. “Yes.”
“And you’re going to take the position aren’t you?”
Suddenly, everything slowed. I stopped, looking at him. As soon as he asked me the question, his smile faded. In its place, a look of focus and concern.
“You are taking it, right?”
I wasn’t exactly sure what to say in that moment.
I studied him.
Between the time we’d come down from the owner’s suite to the pits and now, there hadn’t been enough time for Dieter to tell Dyson about the offer he’d made to me. A myriad of thoughts raced through my mind.
How did Dyson know about the offer? Was he behind it the entire time? Was Dieter’s entire line of questioning all for show?
All of the positive feelings I’d been building towards Dyson melted away as I stared at him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning as he looked at me. “Are you going to take the job or not?”
For a split second, I considered telling Dyson exactly what he could do with the position and where he could stick it. I had little doubt he was involved somehow. Repulsed though I was at the meaning of it, I couldn’t help but think of Simon.
No matter what kind of games went on with the team, my nephew was innocent. I had a responsibility to follow through on the commitment I’d made to him years ago, and one oversexed race car driver wasn’t about to stand in my way.
I swallowed hard, flexing my jaw in defiance.
“I haven’t decided whether or not I’m taking it.”
Dyson blinked several times. I resisted the urge to stick my finger in his chest and tell him to go to hell.
“Oh, okay,” he replied, nodding. Still holding his crash helmet in his hand, he continued, “Well, I know we’re all hoping you can.”
It took everything I had not to curse him out and put the whole thing at risk. Yet somehow, I managed to hold my tongue.
“I’m going to head back to the pits,” I began. “I’ve got to get home.”
Dyson stepped towards me, raising his hand towards my upper arm. “I’ll walk you back.”
I shook my head and backed away from him. “That won’t be necessary. I know the way.”
He stared at me without a word for a second or two before he nodded his head. “Okay, Ava. No problem. So I guess I’ll see you if I see you, right?”
Before I turned to walk away, I looked at him. “I guess. Good luck, Dyson.”
“Yeah, you too.”
No sooner had he finished speaking than I spun away from him and headed in the direction of the pits once again. Unlike before, I didn’t allow the throng of bodies to deter me from my path. I elbowed my way through, shoving and grunting as I moved among them. This was all about survival for me now. It was clear that being out on the Formula One tour meant I’d have to fend for myself. With backstabbing and double dealing at every turn, I couldn’t afford to lose focus for even a second.
Before long, I reached the pits and approached Dr. Wilcox. He stood there, chatting with Dieter as I walked up to them.
“Dr. Wilcox,” I began, looking up at him. “I need to get going. I’ve got to get home and talk to my nephew.”
Dr. Wilcox looked at me, concern framing his expression. “Something the matter, Ava? You seem upset.”
I shook my head. “No sir, just focused. I know what I’ve got to do now. Can you take me home? If you can’t, I’ll find another way.”
He reached towards me, placing his hand on my upper back. “Of course, don’t be ridiculous. I’ll take you home right away.”
AVA
After we arrived back at my apartment, I thanked Dr. Wilcox for everything he’d done for me. I held out the tiniest bit of hope that he was the only one behind the whole idea. If nothing else, I certainly didn’t think he had anything to do with Dyson’s involvement, if Dyson was involved.
Really, I had no idea, but my intuition nagged at me.
Not long after Dr. Wilcox dropped me off, I headed towards my apartment. While I did, I realized I’d have to lie to Simon about why I was leaving in the first place. If he had any inkling I’d taken the position so he wouldn’t have to go back to public school, I worried it would upset him and stress him out.
Clutching the hard brass of my house key, I slid it into the lock and clicked it open. I needed to come up with a believable story—the sooner the better.
As luck would have it, he and Jillian were sitting at the kitchen table eating an early dinner. I pushed the door closed and smiled at them as I walked inside. Crossing the room, I reached towards Simon’s head and began to stroke his hair.
“Are you feeling better?” I asked, hugging him close.
“Mmm hmm.”
I leaned over and placed a single kiss on the crown of his head. “Good.”
Turning in place, I headed in the direction of the kitchen. “It smells great. What are you guys eating?”
“Spaghetti and meatballs,” they answered in unison.
Jillian giggled and leaned in towards him. Afterward, she turned her head and glanced at me. “So, how was the big race?”
Reaching in the cabinet for a plate, I cleared my throat. “Good. It was good.”
Without saying a word, she arched an eyebrow at me. Simon didn’t notice but instead kept his head down, eating in blissful ignorance.
“What happened?” Jillian mouthed.
Refusing to answer, I shook my head and pointed towards my nephew. “Later,” I said in silent response.
Not long after, I joined them at the dinner table. Leaving out the part that might have upset Simon, I recounted the rest of the day’s events to both of them as we ate.
Once we’d finished, I looked at Jillian.
“I need to talk to Simon for a few minutes. If you can wait, I’ll help you clean up.”
Jillian waved at me with a dismissive flick. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. You two go ahead.”
I smiled and thanked her, helping Simon up from his chair before heading towards his bedroom. After entering, I closed the door behind me while Simon lay down on his mattress. I spent the next minute or so making small talk with my nephew, gauging his state of mind.
Clamminess crept to the palms of my hands.
What I had to tell him was unlike anything we ever talked about before. For someone so young, Simon was surprisingly levelheaded. It was a shocking trait when I considered his parents. As much as I loved my sister, even-tempered was not the word I would ever have used to describe her. I helped him get underneath the covers, and once he’d snuggled in, I sat down on the bed next to him.