Page 96 of Collided (Dirty Air 2)

Liam

Rick and I set up a meeting in Brazil to discuss logistics and offers because I rarely hear from him nowadays. It’s been weeks since he called me on my birthday. His job keeps him busy as he handles me and a few other clients, instead preferring to discuss contracts once we could meet in person.

We sit together in a McCoy conference room. He scatters papers around the table, some with Excel sheets and others with transcripts of his conversations with other teams.

“Any word on McCoy’s thoughts about my counteroffer?”

“He’s willing to look past you associating with any Bandini workers.”

I only care about one Bandini woman. “And Sophie?”

“He doesn’t seem happy about that relationship. There’s no guarantee it won’t go badly between you both, and I don’t think that’s a risk he wants to take. He’s offering you a ton of money. A higher salary than your previous contract.”

“I’ll have to think out how to approach this deal. Maybe I accept less money for Peter to drop the Sophie thing? Money always talks.”

Rick sighs. “I’d advise you against that, but if you tell me the amount, I can talk to Peter.”

“He’s not going to get pissy because this is taking so long?”

“These types of deals usually last months. I won’t lie to you, your deal has lasted longer than I’m used to, but you’re a big deal. The best, right up there with Noah.”

“Thanks.” I run a nervous palm through my hair. “What about other teams?”

“You received some offers from lower teams, like Albrecht and Sauvage. Due to their smaller budgets, they can’t offer anything over eight million.”

“Shit, that’s less than half of what I make with McCoy.” Even though I keep my finances in line by investing rather than overspending, I don’t want to compromise millions of dollars and a stellar car.

Rick’s jaw clenches. “Unfortunately so.”

“And the best of the rest? I don’t see any mention of them.” I stare into Rick’s dark eyes.

He checks the time on his phone. “I really haven’t received much word.”

“So just McCoy and these two?” The lack of offers hits me harder than I expected. But I get it, with my poor decisions, I’m a risky bet for next year.

“Yeah. And you know which I think is best.”

Of course, he does. Who wouldn’t like a nice bonus paycheck for brokering a deal with McCoy?

“I’ll have to give it some thought.” I rub my chin. “I’ll reach out to my accountant and get back to you on the price-drop counteroffer.”

“We’re lucky Peter McCoy is a patient man who’s sure you’ll accept a deal.”

“Peter’s patience looks a lot like assholery, but to each their own. I don’t know how I feel about a contract offer clearly stating how I need to avoid public relations with Sophie or any other Bandini representative.”

Rick gives me a half-assed shrug of his shoulders. “Well, everyone except Noah.”

“That’s not exactly the issue, and you know it.”

“Listen, I want what’s best for you. You, not my bank account. Shitty cars from the lowest teams don’t make World Champions. You’d be kissing your career goodbye.”

“Then let’s hope Peter accepts my next offer.”

He glances at his spreadsheet. “With these crappy offers from other teams, the decision shouldn’t be this hard. Get your head in the game, and I’m not talking about the one in your pants. You’ve spent years climbing up to the top. Sophie may be a good time for the season, but it’s only that. For a season.”

Rick dismisses himself, claiming he needs to meet with Peter and Chris. I ask if he needs me to join, but he says my time is better spent elsewhere. I couldn’t agree more. Meetings and talking shop bore the hell out of me.

I visit my Bandini princess in her motorhome fortress. She hangs out with Maya, who busies herself with prepping for an interview with Sophie’s dad. The man looks at me like he can’t make up his mind about my intentions, his green eyes following every step I take. Her dad wears a Bandini polo showing off arm muscles that seem like they can knock me out with one punch. He takes my offered hand and shakes it, giving it a warning squeeze before letting go.