Page 1 of Pole Position (Sexy As Sin #12)
Chapter one
Bianca
Belgium, July 2039
Circuit de Spa–Francorchamps
“Well, that’s the pre–race pleasantries complete. The drivers will head to their cars and get strapped in for the start of the race. This is one final blast before the summer break – any predictions?”
“Y’know, it’s looking good for the Red Bull team. Darren McCarthy starts on pole, but only after inheriting top spot from Maria Perez. The Spanish Ferrari driver topped qualifying but is serving a ten–place grid penalty for an engine change. The sister Ferrari of Haruto Tanaka joins McCarthy on the front row, with Bianca Rossi in third for McLaren and Gerrard Dubois in fourth for Mercedes.”
“And the formation lap begins! McCarthy leads the pack away.”
“All those frontrunners have gone the same route with brand new mediums for the start of the race. The track temperature is looking good, holding a solid 42C for the start of the race. Here we’re seeing McCarthy easing the pack up to bring everyone together before he reaches the grid. Here we go… And it’s lights out!”
“McCarthy leads from pole as Rossi gets into second ahead of Tanaka. Oh! And further back, one of the Williams duo has been forced onto the gravel. The team will be disappointed with that.”
“On the run down the Kemmel straight, McCarthy is just able to avoid being slipstreamed as Rossi fends off Tanaka. They will all be desperately holding onto their places on track, preparing for DRS being enabled on the second lap.”
“So, we’re still seeing McCarthy leading ahead of the McLaren car, Tanaka with Ferrari in third. They seem to have settled into a comfortable order there, but we all know nothing is ever guaranteed in the world of Formula One, especially without the DRS advantage.”
“Right you are. If we take a moment to look at the rest of the field, we’ve got Robert Peterson with Aston Martin who’s just dropped to eighth behind Sophia Harrington, the talented young McLaren driver sitting further back in the pack than we’re used to seeing her.”
“DRS is enabled. Rossi is using it to reel in McCarthy at the front, but it looks like she can’t quite get close enough on the straights for an overtake. McCarthy is holding the line for now, keeping Rossi in second through the twisty bits on the second lap.”
“Coming into lap three now and– Oh! Superb overtake by Rossi. She’s been fighting for an opportunity to use her DRS, and she’s found one. The McLaren driver charges into the lead ahead of Red Bull’s McCarthy on the Kemmel straight.”
“We’ve had an update from Tanaka over the radio. He’s complaining of a battery issue and is swiftly coming under threat from Dubois for third. Ahead, Rossi has set the fastest lap of 1 minute 49.109 seconds – that McLaren is flying along.”
“We’ve got five laps in the book and fan favourite Rossi still leads by one second from McCarthy, whilst Tanaka is still fending off Dubois. Sophia Harrington has worked some of the magic we love to see from her. The McLaren has found its way up to fifth, whilst her teammate Rossi – the only team with a female duo – has finally managed to move out of DRS range from McCarthy.”
“Things are starting to look up for McLaren, who have been really on point for most of this first half of the 2039 season.”
“Things are looking rather hot behind Tanaka. The Ferrari is leading a very tight group of talented drivers with Harrington at its tail. Can she get back in the mix for the victory fight? Only time will tell.”
“Rossi is the fastest driver on track as her lead grows to 1.8 seconds over McCarthy at the end of lap seven. The Red Bull driver seems to be responding to Rossi’s pace increase, trimming a tenth of a second off her lead, but will it be enough? It remains to be seen as Rossi comes in to pit.”
“The McLaren driver has been followed in by Tanaka and Peterson, all three drivers looking to switch to the fresh medium compound tyres.”
“Oh, here’s a twist! Sophia Harrington with McLaren also comes in to pit. Rossi has been given mediums, but her teammate is on a fresh set of hards. Interesting tactics by McLaren here. A clean getaway by all drivers—”
“Yes! In a real show of skill, Harrington gets the undercut done by exiting ahead of Peterson! Sophia Harrington is now within a real chance of getting up on that podium. She’s sitting in third – up from eighth.”
“We’ve just heard McCarthy asking to go long, but clearly Red Bull have overruled him as he comes in for fresh hards at the end of his lap, lap twelve.”
“That was a great stop. The Red Bull driver comes out behind Rossi but holds onto his position. Red Bull have told him "100% pace" which we all know means use all the juice from these tyres.”
“Another lap down, and McCarthy remains second – but he is only 7.3 seconds ahead of Harrington and the McLaren driver is setting the pace out on that track with her fresh tyres.”
“Heading into the latter half of the race and Harrington is able to use DRS gained from McCarthy ahead to keep Peterson at bay behind her. Aston Martin will want to do something about that.”
“Things are really heating up out on track. Harrington had been set to defend from Peterson but if anything, she is attacking McCarthy for second now! He can’t possibly hope to defend from McLaren on the hard tyre and that may prove to be his downfall here at Spa.”
“Yes! At last, the break McLaren have been waiting for. Harrington finally gets her chance and darts by McCarthy and into second on the Kemmel straight! The crowd is going absolutely wild ahead of what will now be a direct head–to–head battle between the two McLaren drivers.”
“We’ve just heard Sophia asking McLaren to "think about a one–stop". She knows Rossi will have to pit again and if Sophia pits again now, she will lose three places. I think it’s the best choice available to McLaren right now – but will Harrington be able to make those hard tyres last for the rest of the race?”
“They’ll have to bring Rossi in for a stop, whatever way they go. Those tyres just aren’t cutting it.”
“And she’s into the pits! It’s a good stop – 2.4 seconds for Rossi and she comes out ahead of McCarthy with a gap of around 2.5 seconds. Teammate Sophia Harrington takes first place.”
“Harrington leads the Grand Prix by 6 seconds with only eleven laps to go, but she is swiftly being caught by her teammate, Rossi. Assuming McLaren play it smart here, they won’t want Harrington to cause her teammate too much trouble, but she’ll be fighting for her life for that podium place.”
“Rossi is on the radio. “Am I on target to beat her or not?" Rossi asks her race engineer. "It’s close," is the response.”
“This race has been a slow burner but we’re in for a cracking finish to decide every place in the top six. Don’t go anywhere!”
“Rossi moves to within three seconds of Harrington having taken nine–tenths of a second out of her teammate’s advantage on the last lap alone. McCarthy remains 5.6 seconds off Rossi, with Peterson and Tanaka within DRS range of one another, fighting for third.”
“All these battles are coming to the boil!”
“Rossi is within a second of Harrington now – will McLaren enforce a switch, or will Rossi need to fight for the lead?”
“And there you have it. Rossi is being told to "just make sure you give each other plenty of space" over her radio. The battle is on! They are allowed to race. It’ll be music to McCarthy’s ears because he’ll be catching both of them as they squabble.”
“Only three laps left. Rossi, with DRS, has a look at overtaking her teammate on the Kemmel straight… but no, she doesn’t risk it. McCarthy is 2.5 seconds behind them now.”
“Two laps to go. Rossi goes deep at La Source and, ooh! She loses ground to Harrington. Sophia leads at the start of the final lap. It is all or nothing time.”
“Again, Rossi is going wide into La Source and that mistake lets McCarthy into her DRS – but nobody can make a move at the end of the Kemmel straight.”
“Harrington is half a lap away from an incredible victory, making a one–stopper work from eighth on the grid.”
“Can she do it? Can she do it? Yes! Sophia Harrington wins the Belgian GP! She leads a McLaren 1–2 from Rossi, with Red Bull’s McCarthy in third! Wow! The top three are split by only 1.1 seconds at the finish.”
“We can see Harrington there, leaping straight out of the car and into the arms of her McLaren mechanics! That’s only her third F1 grand prix win and by far her best to date. Rossi looks a little dejected getting out of her car, she must be wondering how her likely victory slipped away to her teammate.”
“Rossi is a real firecracker of a driver. That defeat won’t have been taken easily.”
“I couldn’t agree more. That was a drive that surprised everyone. What a sight – Harrington lofts the sparkling winners’ trophy into the air to the roar of the crowd. A superb victory.”
“Time to get busy with the fizzy! Look at that champagne fly! Certainly not a bad way to go into the summer break, wouldn’t you say?”
“Most definitely. The DJ is booming out the party anthems and drowning out the post–race interviews, but that doesn’t seem to be fazing anyone. I think all the F1 teams deserve a good party after this latest gruelling run of races. The summer break brings with it a three–week pause, after which the Las Vegas GP will kick off the rest of the season. We’ll be back then but for now, go well and enjoy what is left of your weekend. Thanks for listening.”
“Congratulations on the McLaren 1–2.” Another well–meaning stranger took it upon themselves to hug me and I barely resisted rolling my eyes.
“Congratulations on not being quite good enough to beat your foetus of a teammate,” is what they really mean. I clenched my jaw and forced a smile.
“Thanks so much. It was a great result for the team,” I replied. As soon as the stranger had moved on, I sighed and tipped a large mouthful of champagne back. God, I hated these parties at the best of times, but when it was after such a bitterly disappointing race they sucked even more. Sure, I’d come second but I should have been first.
My eyes were drawn through the crowds to my teammate, Sophia Harrington, as she accepted yet more congratulations on her Grand Prix win earlier that afternoon. It was no secret my teammate and I rarely saw eye to eye, and our tenuous relationship was always made just that little rockier whenever she got lucky and managed to get one over on me. I could easily admit to being a sore loser – though weren’t we all on some level? You didn’t get to drive in Formula One unless you had some major competitive energy. I was the epitome of a fiery Italian, but I’d get over it… Eventually. At least it was the beginning of the summer break, and I could stew in silence whilst relaxing by the pool in my villa in the south of France.
To my disappointment, Sophia spotted me, and I cast her another false smile, groaning as she made her way through the crowds towards me.
Sophia was harmless enough, I supposed. She was a fresh–faced, painfully optimistic sort and that alone tended to get my back up. I had to remember she was just a kid – just turned twenty. It seemed bonkers to me that I had to be the mature one, given I was only twenty–four myself.
“Sophia,” I called out, waving her over before tugging her down into a half–hearted, one–armed embrace.
“Hey, Bee,” she replied, and I resisted the urge to slap her upside her head for the cutesy nickname. “Having a good night?”
“The best,” I muttered dryly. Sophia slipped onto the leatherette couch beside me without invitation, fishing her phone from her bag.
“Selfie?” Before I’d had the chance to answer her, Sophia was lifting her phone up above our heads, angling it and smiling her best social media smile. I joined her, praying I didn’t look as awkward as I felt. Despite having been racing F1 for several years now, I wasn’t a natural at the publicity side of things.
I watched Sophia fiddling with the filters, tweaking the photo until she was happy with it. She held it up for my inspection and when I shrugged, she swiftly posted it. I felt my phone rumble in my purse, alerting me that I’d been tagged.
“Have you seen Harold or the rest of the senior pit wall team yet?” Sophia asked, glancing around the crowds. I had to admit I was just as eager to lay eyes on our friendly team principal’s face. Harold Warner was a legend on the racing circuit. At sixty–four, he’d been around long enough to captain some of the world’s greatest teams and had earned himself a reputation for being the best of the best. I hadn’t had a chance to catch up with him after the race earlier that day and I was keen to have my ego stroked a little on the back of my losing out by a whisker to Sophia.
“I’ve seen a few of the engineers, but no Harold.” I shrugged.
“Maybe he decided to give this one a miss?”
I cocked a brow. “A celebration marking the beginning of the summer break and a McLaren 1–2?”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Sophia laughed. “It’s not like him to miss a party. I hope he’s alright.”
Before I could say another word, one of the minders scurried to Sophia’s side and crouched down to address us.
“You will never guess who is here!” she squealed, not even giving us a chance to reply. “Maddie Michaels!”
My stomach flipped over. Maddie Michaels was a goddess – one of the most successful drivers in the history of the sport and a personal heroine of mine.
“No!” Sophia gasped, looking around. “Where? I must meet her.”
We followed the minder’s gaze as she turned back towards the bar. Maddie Michaels, a blonde bombshell, stood a short distance away, champagne glass in hand and talking animatedly with a small crowd of adoring fans. I downed the last dregs of my drink, wiping my mouth off on the back of my hand before getting to my feet. I tugged my dress down a little and Sophia hastily hopped up to join me. We made our way across the bar towards Maddie, lingering beside her only a moment before the blonde noticed us and a bright smile illuminated her face.
“The McLaren girls,” she said. “I was hoping our paths would cross. Congratulations on the 1–2.”
Sophia and I both mumbled our thanks nervously, completely starstruck. Maddie was an icon, a trailblazer. I’d grown up with her face plastered all over my bedroom wall. She was the driver I had modelled myself after, and the reason women like Sophia and I had been welcomed into the sport. Without her, we wouldn’t have been where we were. I wanted to tell her all of this, but instead I just smiled, completely lost for words.
“You both did an incredible job out there today,” she continued.
“Th–thanks so much,” Sophia spluttered. “It was an amazing result. We definitely didn’t predict this win in our strategy meeting this morning, but y’know, the car was feeling awesome.”
“I can’t believe you made that one–stop work. You’d better believe I was screaming my head off in the box watching,” Maddie laughed.
“I kept saying ‘I think we can do the one–stop, I think we can do the one–stop,’ and the strategy was just really on the money.”
I pursed my lips, irritation eating at me. Sure, Sophia had done a good job today, but I had led that race. If it hadn’t been for that last minute decision to attempt the one–stop, I would have been today’s champion. Sophia glanced across at me, sensing my gaze as it burnt into her. She cleared her throat.
“I couldn’t have done it without Bianca, though. She controlled that race and if circumstances were slightly different, I am sure she would’ve got the victory instead.”
Maddie’s attention turned to me. “It can be tough out there sometimes, I get it. You guys were such an amazing team today. A 1–2 for McLaren is such an awesome result. What a great way to go into the summer break.”
“Thank you,” I replied. “That means so much coming from someone of your calibre.”
“Ah, you’re too sweet.” Maddie flapped her hand dismissively. “Have you guys got anything special planned for summer break?
In truth, other than some well–deserved rest and relaxation, I didn’t have much on my calendar. I planned to spend most of my time beside the pool, working on my tan lines. Before I could even open my mouth, Sophia interjected.
“Oh, well, I’ve got lots of—”
“Sorry to interrupt, ladies.” A voice came from behind us, and I knew without turning that another of my idols was standing at our backs. I should have known Maddie Michaels wouldn’t have come to this party alone. The blonde’s face lit up as Nick Larson, seven–time world driver’s championship winner, made his way to her side. He leant in and kissed her, confirming immediately that the pair were still very much an item. I’d only been nine or ten when Maddie had won her first world driver’s championship with Ferrari in 2024. For years afterwards, the passionate kiss Maddie and Nick, her then teammate, had shared on screen lived rent free in my head. It made me want to swoon and sigh just thinking of it. Maddie and Nick had set the bar for everything I ever wanted for myself one day, and I was beyond elated to meet the famous couple themselves.
“Sorry, have you met my husband, Nick?” Maddie asked.
“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure, though of course no introductions are needed,” Sophia replied, practically simpering. “It’s great to meet you, Nick Larson.”
“You too. Great job out there today.” Nick’s dark eyes turned to me, and I about shit my pants. “Especially you. That one–stop was something else, but you held that race together right to the end. A few more laps and I think you’d have regained your lead.”
“Thanks so much,” I squeaked, suddenly bashful. Nick had to have been in his late forties, maybe even early fifties now, but he was still as devilishly handsome as ever. In truth, I’d always had a thing for older men. It was clear even from their brief kiss that Nick was still very much head over heels in love with Maddie – honestly, who wasn’t? – but my pulse quickened regardless as I forced myself to hold his eye contact.
“Great party, too,” he continued, taking a sip from his glass. “I was always so relieved when it was time for summer break. I bet you pair are exhausted.”
Sophia and I simply nodded and laughed like a pair of flustered schoolgirls. As he finished his drink, Nick took Maddie’s hand in his own.
“It’s been great to meet you both,” Maddie said, a glamorous smile in place. “I hope we cross paths again soon. I’ll be keeping a close eye on your races. I’ve got a good feeling about McLaren this year.”
We muttered our farewells, Sophia and I watching as our idols strolled away, hand in hand through the party. Once they were safely out of sight, Sophia screeched, her long nails digging into my forearm.
“I cannot believe that just happened!” She hopped foot to foot excitedly. “Talk about life goals.”
I fanned my face. “Tell me about it. I’ve been dreaming about meeting them both since I was a kid. I think I’ve watched their docuseries about a hundred times.”
“Me too,” Sophia sighed. “It’s so romantic.”
“Right?” I gasped. “What I wouldn’t give for my own Nick Larson. No offence, you’re a great teammate and all but—”
“I hear you,” Sophia giggled. “The grid is painfully short on handsome drivers.”
“They don’t make ‘em like Nick Larson anymore, that’s for sure,” I sighed.
Sophia and I smiled at one another. Maybe we had more in common than I’d first thought. It felt good to finally have a genuine conversation with my teammate that wasn’t forced or all about work.
“You want another drink?” I asked with a smile.
“Absolutely! Lead the way.”
Harold hadn’t shown at the party, and I hadn’t heard anything from him or any of the senior team. At first, I hadn’t thought much of it, but as more time elapsed and we entered the last week of our summer break, I started to grow concerned.
Sat beside the pool, the hot sun blazed down on me, and I stared at my phone. I frowned, navigating to my WhatsApp messages and tapping on Sophia’s name.
BIANCA: Hey, hope you’re having a great break. Have you heard anything from Harold or the others?
It didn’t take long before she replied.
SOPHIA: No, nothing. Do you get the impression something is going on?
BIANCA: Definitely. I’ve tried calling Harold a few times, but his phone goes straight to answerphone.
SOPHIA: I’m going to reach out to some of the other seniors and see if they know what’s going on.
BIANCA: Keep me posted.
I locked my phone, dropping it into my lap with a heavy sigh. I had a bad feeling about this.
I turned my face up into the heat of the sun, closing my eyes. I loved being here at my sleepy French villa, especially during the summer months. It was always so quiet, just me and two members of house staff – as different as it was possible to be from the hustle and bustle of London, or the constant jet lag from travelling the world. It was exhausting, but I wouldn’t change it for anything. I lived for racing.
Sweat beaded on my brow and I got to my feet, unwrapping my sarong from my waist. I left it beside my phone before skipping across the hot tiles and diving into the cool waters of the pool. When I surfaced, I floated on my back, gazing up into the bright blue, cloudless sky.
I wasn’t sure how long I stayed there, but as I clambered out in a shower of water, I heard my phone ringing. Hurriedly towelling myself dry, I rushed to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Bianca, long time no speak.” It was Frank Matthews, the owner of McLaren. I sucked in a breath, there was no good reason for him to be calling, that much was certain.
“Hi, Frank. What can I do for you?”
“I’m sorry to call you on your summer break, but I’m going to need you to come into the office. There’s some important news I need to fill the team in on and I’d like to do so face to face before anything gets released to the press.”
I felt my stomach turn over. “Is this about Harold? Is he alright? I’ve been trying to call him, but—”
“Just come in. I’ll explain everything when we have everyone together,” Frank interjected. “Safe travels.”
“Alright, see you soon,” I replied, hanging up. I stared at my phone with confusion. Something serious was going on and I needed to get myself back to Britain as soon as possible. I grabbed my towel, wrapping it around my body as I hurried inside to shower.
“Miss Rossi?” My housekeeper stepped forward, her face etched with concern.
“I need to get back to the office. I’m going to head for a shower and get packed. Can you call me a car?”
“Of course.” She nodded, striding away.
I trotted up the stairs and into my bedroom, shutting the door behind myself as I stripped out of my wet bikini. I’d have liked a few more days to myself, but at least my tan lines were already nice and stark from days of constant sunbathing. As I waited for the water to heat up, my phone rumbled, and I reached for it.
SOPHIA: Any idea what we’re being called back for?
BIANCA: Not a clue, but it can’t be anything good.
SOPHIA: My thoughts too. See you back at the office.
I pressed my lips together. The sooner the better. I wouldn’t be able to rest until I got some answers.
“Thank you all for coming in at such short notice.” Frank addressed the room, leaning forward on his arms against the long, mahogany desk of the meeting room. The entire McLaren racing team was assembled here, everyone looking a little nervous. I’d asked around and no one seemed to know the reason we’d been brought in, but the same conclusion had been drawn as it became clear Harold wasn’t joining us. Something was wrong.
“I wanted to bring you all together to tell you the full story before the rumour mill undoubtedly begins to run around the paddock. Harold Warner will not be returning as team principal for the rest of the season.”
The room erupted into concerned murmuring. I glanced at Sophia, and she caught my eye, brow furrowed. Frank held up his hands for quiet.
“I know this will come as a shock to you all. Harold has been a pillar in the community for many, many years. He is well respected by you all. I am disappointed to inform you that he has been arrested, pending charges for embezzlement and fraud.”
This time there was no silencing the room. Loud chatter drowned out Frank as he attempted to regain control of the team. I felt my blood run cold. Embezzlement and fraud? Harold? That seemed inconceivable. I’d looked up to Harold, grown up beneath his wing. I felt sick.
“Please, quiet down,” Frank shouted. “I don’t have all the information, but I am more than happy to answer any and every question that I am able to.”
Several people shouted at once, their questions getting lost over one another. I simply stared into space, trying to process what Frank was saying. I could feel Sophia’s eyes on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to meet her gaze. I wasn’t sure what I was feeling – sad, betrayed, angry… Harold had fooled us all and everything our team had achieved off the back of talent and hard work would now be thrown into doubt. The FIA would be all over this, turning over every stone looking for more corruption. How could Harold have done this to us? To me? What did this mean for my career now?
“Who will be replacing him?” A voice boomed across the room, and everyone fell silent.
Frank hesitated before answering. “Harold’s fall from grace came as a surprise to me… but I was made aware of the authorities’ intentions many months ago. As such, I have been able to give a lot of thought to his replacement so as to disrupt the team and our chances of success as little as possible.”
I couldn’t stand the beating around the bush any longer.
“So?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. “Who is taking over?”
“Kristian Wright.”
The room burst into uproar once more. I’d never met Kristian Wright, but I knew of him. He was the team principal for Invicta Racing at Formula Two level. They’d had some serious success since he’d taken over the team a few years prior and I’d heard some interesting chatter around him. He was rumoured to be a real piece of work, with little tolerance for bullshit and a short fuse. He would be the polar opposite to Harold, who had been like a father to the team… but perhaps McLaren could benefit from something completely different right now, given the circumstances.
“Alright, calm down please!” Frank called out. “Kristian has rather graciously decided to step in to run things for the remainder of the season. Whether he is to remain on board as team principal going forward is still undecided. Those sorts of final decisions will be communicated in due course, but for now I think we can all agree that we need to keep pushing and ride out this storm.”
Frank’s PR manager stepped forward. “And on that note, I do not want any of you talking with the press. An announcement will be made just as soon as we adjourn here, and Harold’s swift exit will undoubtedly be the subject on everyone’s lips when the second half of the season begins.” She gathered a pile of papers together and began handing them out. “Which is why I will need you all to sign a nondisclosure agreement.”
I took the contract as it was offered to me, scanning over the information. One of the engineers sitting beside me handed me a pen and I swiftly signed my signature upon the dotted line. All papers were gathered back in and Frank tugged at his tie.
“I understand there will be some feelings of unrest within the team. I want you all to know you can come forward and speak with me about anything that is on your minds. I have faith in Kristian. He has the kind of firm resolve we need right now, to protect us from what promises to be a complete shit show,” Frank spat. “I need your support in this. If you don’t feel you are able to give that, then you know where the door is.”
As the owner strode away through the room, exiting swiftly, everyone began to chatter once more. I gathered my belongings, listening to the engineers beside me.
“Firm resolve,” one of them snorted. “More like balls of steel.”
“Right? Kristian fucking Wright… Thanks, Harold. Thanks a bunch. Best guard your arseholes, boys. We’re about to get fucked raw.”
“Surely he can’t be that bad?” I muttered with a scowl.
The two engineers cast me an incredulous look. “You too, Rossi. He’s not known for going easy on his drivers either. That smart mouth of yours you like to run so much might get you in trouble.”
I swallowed, palms suddenly sweaty. Though I told myself I had nothing to worry about, I couldn’t help but worry about what was awaiting us all when the season resumed.