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CHAPTER FIVE

NICO

W hat did he say after you said that?” Charles asked as he placed the bowl of popcorn between them and handed one kernel to Templeton perched on the back of the sofa.

“Nothing,” Nico said. “He told Casey he wanted to try out the car I’d been driving. I should have left. There and then.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t,” Nico huffed angrily.

“How’d he do?”

She shrugged. “Okay.”

Charles grinned. “That good?”

Nico frowned. “So he had a faster time. He had the advantage of going after me, and I wasn’t going all out.”

She grabbed some popcorn, and the three of them, including Templeton, sat gazing out into space as they munched.

“Do you regret it?” Charles asked.

“Regret what?”

“Scamming all that money off him.”

Why should she? Especially after the way he’d acted today. She didn’t feel bad about what she’d done, not even a little bit. Although that money was still sitting in the top drawer of her dresser. She didn’t feel right about spending it. But she could hardly give it back to him.

“Okay,” Charles said. “I see by that Bowser look on your face, the answer is no .”

“What?”

“King Koopa?”

Nico frowned.

“Grand pooh-bah of the Koopa race?”

Nico threw her hands in the air. “Oh, of course, now, I see.”

“Mario’s archnemesis!”

Nico rolled her eyes. “Video games.”

“Okay, so you don’t regret it. Too bad you’re going to be teammates.”

“Yeah, too bad,” Nico said glumly, plucking one kernel of popcorn from the bowl and tossing it behind her for Templeton, who caught it between his claws. She then scooped out a handful for herself. “You should have heard some of the foul things he said.”

“Like what?”

“Like suggesting I only earned a spot on the team because I was sleeping with someone.”

“What a dick!”

Nico grinned. “I told him that’s what his name meant in Italian.”

Charles roared with laughter.

“Maybe he won’t say yes ,” Nico mused. “I hope he doesn’t. So, what, if there’s no one else without a contract in Formula 1; they’re plenty of good drivers in Formula 2 who are just as good as him.”

Charles remained silent.

Nico glanced at him. “Did you hear me?”

“Even you have to admit he’s good, Nico. He might be one of the best ever.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, he hasn’t won the trophy in years. He hasn’t even come in second or third.”

“Well, in that case, maybe the best ever without the record to show for it. I wonder why that is.”

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s time for him to retire.”

“He’s not that old. Is he even thirty?”

“I don’t care. I wish he would retire. Or at least not join Maverick Racing.

You know how Formula 1 teams work. Team is an oxymoron.

We’ll be racing against each other; driving a car that’s been built by the same engineers and mechanics.

It’s like driving the exact same car. So, how would it look if I did well and he didn’t?

Whether or not he has a shot at winning or making it to the podium, he’ll make damn well certain I don’t.

He’ll set me up to fail. I know it. And I can’t fail.

There’s a lot riding on this—not just for me.

There are no women drivers racing in Formula 1 right now. ”

“I’m well aware.”

“There’ve only been a total of five women who’ve raced F1 since it began. And only one with enough starts to earn any points. And that was Lella Lombardi way back in 1975.”

“I’m well aware of that too,” Charles said, rolling both his head and eyes toward Nico’s bedroom. The walls were papered with images of them all.

“When I said yes , I didn’t even think to ask who the other driver would be.”

“Would it have mattered?”

Nico shook her head. “No. There’s no way I would pass up this opportunity, even if it means having to race alongside that asshole.”

“You mean that annoying, arrogant, asshole, prick.”

“Yes, even if it means having to race alongside him.”

“Well, there you are. Your brain knew what it was doing when it decided not to ask who the other driver was. It was preventing even the slightest possibility of doubt on your part.”

“Huh?”

“Not giving you a chance to hesitate or second-guess yourself. The brain can do that. It’s actually ahead of you, making decisions, figuring out what you’re going to do before you have the thought to do it.”

When Nico looked at Charles with a wrinkled brow, he added, “It’s true. I read that somewhere. Can’t remember where.”

Of course not.

“So,” Nico said, “it was my brain that decided I should go to Drink and Dive and take the annoying, arrogant, asshole, prick for all he’s got. And I had no say in the matter.”

“What do you mean you had no say in the matter? What— Your brain belongs to someone else? Or maybe it’s not even in there”—Charles poked Nico’s forehead—“behind that thick skull of yours. Maybe it’s floating in a vat of ginger ale in a scientific lab in Duluth or Brainerd.”

“Why Duluth or Brainerd? Why couldn’t my brain be in a lab in Paris? Or Monte Carlo?”

“Anybody who’s stupid enough to think their brain is floating in a vat of ginger ale doesn’t deserve to be in Paris or Monte Carlo.

” Charles heaved a big sigh. “We are going off track here. My point is, if your brain is making decisions, it’s making decisions for you and as a part of you.

It’s not floating in a vat somewhere where Dr. Wily pokes and prods your gray matter, making you do all sorts of wicked things. ”

“Is this another video game reference?”

“The Dr. Wily part is.”

Nico shook her head, exasperated. “How did we get here? I don’t know what in the hell we’re talking about.”

“You were the one who wanted to talk metaphysics.”

Nico found that hard to believe, given she wasn’t even certain what metaphysics was.

Charles handed Templeton another kernel of popcorn.

“Does it really matter if you’re on the same team?

You said it yourself. When it comes to Formula 1, team is an oxymoron.

The drivers don’t compete like a team. Although I suppose it means you’ll probably have to see him more—up close and personal-like—and you’ll have to stop that social media war with him. ”

“I will if he does.”

Charles laughed. “I bet he’s saying the same thing.”

Nico got up and walked over to the shelf of DVDs. “So, what do you want to watch?”

Tuesday was movie night.

She pulled out one— 10 Things I Hate About You .

Maybe.

“His cousin sounds nice,” Charles said.

“Dario? He is.”

How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days .

Maybe.

Nico smiled. “He told him not to be a tool.”

Charles laughed. “He did?”

Never Been Kissed .

Um. Uh-uh.

Nico nodded. “When annoying, arrogant, asshole, prick wouldn’t shake my hand.”

Isn’t It Romantic.

Definitely not.

Charles picked up his phone and began scrolling while Nico continued perusing the DVDs.

The Little Mermaid .

That’s Disney, isn’t it?

Nico pulled it out. The cover didn’t look like Disney.

She read the fine print. It wasn’t. This one was a Swedish film based on the original Andersen fairy tale. Where did Charles get this?

Nico turned to him. “What happens at the end of The Little Mermaid ?”

Charles smiled. “Ariel marries Eric, and the two live happily ever after.”

“That’s the Disney version. What happens at the end of the original one—you know, the Andersen fairy tale?”

“Oh.” Charles’s smile disappeared. “In that one, she can’t bring herself to kill the prince, so she saves his life by killing herself. She jumps into the sea and turns into sea-foam.”

“Sea-foam.”

“Uh-huh. Sea-foam.”

Nico shoved the DVD back into its slot.

Big. Nope.

Charles sighed. “At least annoying, arrogant, asshole, prick didn’t recognize you. I figured he wouldn’t.”

“Wait until you hear the last thing he said before he left.”

Staring at his phone, Charles’s blue eyes ballooned. “That he’d be trying out the simulator on Friday early in the morning so he’d put in his order now—a double espresso for him and a cappuccino dusted with cinnamon for Dario. Some jelly doughnuts would be nice too.”

Nico frowned. “How did—”

Charles held up his phone. Nico grabbed it.

@RacingRocco

It’s official. I’m joining the Maverick Racing team.

And what do you know? I’ll be racing alongside one Nico Angelini.

Let me be the first to welcome Nico to Formula 1.

I’ll be testing the simulator on Friday at headquarters early in the morning, so I’ll put in my order now.

I’ll have a double espresso, and for Dario, a cappuccino dusted with cinnamon. Some jelly doughnuts would be nice too.

Nico stared at it, speechless, feeling like she’d had the wind knocked out of her.

Charles shook his head. “That boy deserves a spanking. I certainly wouldn’t mind doing the job.”

Nico made a face.

Charles tried to turn that glimmer in his eye to a glower but failed miserably.

She started pacing. “He hasn’t given a thought to stopping the social media snark. I suppose he thinks me—the demure woman—will just remain silent.”

“You? Demure?”

“Not to mention he went ahead and made the announcement. Not just about himself, but about me! And the way he did it, as though I were just an afterthought. Like the big news is one Rocco Vittori joining the team rather than a woman racing Formula 1!

“They specifically asked me not to make it known publicly. They wanted to wait until they had everything set up and then have a press conference. And now he just goes ahead and shits all over what should be a historic moment! I have to come up with some kind of response.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do. I can’t just let that sit there.” She shoved the phone in Charles’s face. “Look at all those likes and comments.”

Charles huffed. “Male chauvinists! We need to put our heads together and come up with something.” He grabbed a scoopful of popcorn and shoved it in his mouth.

Nico began to pace. “How do I hate thee?” she hissed. “Let me count the ways.”

“Ooh, that’s good.”

“No, I’m just venting. I have to come up with a response to that!” She pointed at the post on Charles’s phone, which kept pinging as the likes and comments flooded in. She handed it to him. “Will you please mute that thing already?”

“Sorry.” Charles silenced his phone. “You’ll think of something. You always do.”

“It’s more difficult now. We’re on the same team.”

“Oh … that. ”

“Yes … that. Trust me, he’s already got a response ready to any reaction on my part.

He’s going to say something like he was just joking, it’s all in good fun, part of the team dynamic.

He’ll accuse me of overreacting, say I’m too sensitive—or worse—hysterical.

I wouldn’t be surprised if he suggested I was on my period. ”

Charles nodded. “As though men don’t have periods.”

Nico frowned.

“You know what I mean,” Charles said. “We get moody too.”

“Damn skippy, you do.”

“Look, you’ll come up with something. What’s that saying: Revenge is best served as an ice-cold martini—either that or coffee ice cream.”

“You mean revenge is a dish best served cold.”

“Exactly. So, let’s take a deep breath, sit back, watch a movie, cool our jets, and afterward we’ll have that ice-cold martini and coffee ice cream and come up with something.”

Charles was right. She was too upset to come up with a good response, let alone a coherent one. Better to calm down and think it through.

“Okay. So, what do you want to watch?”

Charles’s eyes were gleaming. “You know what …”

“Oh, please,” Nico groaned. “Not The Notebook . Again.”

Charles made a face. “How many times have I sat through The Princess Bride ?”

Nico sighed. “It is your turn, isn’t it? Okay, The Notebook it is.”

Charles’s lip curled like the Grinch’s when he’d come up with a plan to ruin Christmas for all the Whos down in Whoville.

“I’m not thinking of movies. I’m thinking of the perfect response to that post. Who says your response has to be on social media?

Well, actually, it’ll probably end up there.

Oh yeah, there’s no way you do this and it doesn’t. ”

“What happened to the martini and ice cream?”

“We can still have them as we plot the details.”

“Okay,” Nico said apprehensively, “well, let me hear it, and then I’ll decide whether or not I’ll do it.”

“My dear, no one knows you better than I do. You’ll do it.”