Page 30 of Retrograde

After he’d literally got on his knees and begged for her forgiveness, Lucie and Brett had been snuck out of the back entrance of the event in Monaco, still in their formalwear, and Jasper’s driver had taken them to the airport, where their suitcases had been delivered from the hotel and there was a small flight crew waiting to take them away.

‘I’m sorry, Sunny,’ he mumbled again, close to a full-scale breakdown in the bedroom at the back of Revolution’s private plane.

‘I’m at my breaking point too, and I’m not trying to guilt trip you, but you have to understand that your choices don’t just impact you. But I don’t need verbal apologies, I need action. I need you to focus on getting to the root of your problems.’

‘You don’t have to be here with me, Luce. I understand if you want some space.’

‘No, I told you, we’re a team. But don’t think you’re going to be easily forgiven.’ She swallowed the lump in her throat as she watched sobs wrack his body.

‘I want to get better, Luce. I don’t want to keep hurting myself, or you, or my family.

My fucking teammates . I’ve let so many people down just because I couldn’t hold it together.

I was stupid to think I had it all figured out.

I just wanted so badly to believe that I was fine, that I was healed.

’ Brett fiddled with his watch, a Rolex gifted to him by the organisation on his first race win.

‘I was spiralling when I flew home to Sydney without you.’

‘I think tonight was a bit of a giveaway, Anderson. But you can’t use me as a crutch, you’ve got to learn to cope on your own.’

‘I slept with Sienna.’ He sobbed again, a fresh wave of tears hitting him.

‘You did what ? Was it just the once? The first time you went home?’ Lucie couldn’t hide her anger at his stupidity, it was like he was actively trying to hurt himself at this point.

‘Yeah.’ He looked as sick as Lucie felt. ‘Nothing happened the night I came home to you. The night I kissed you.’ As if that made it any better.

‘Why didn’t you just walk away?’

‘I wasn’t thinking straight. It was a lot , all the emotional upheaval from the last couple of months.

My head was a mess. I wanted answers, closure, to feel like the old me again and forget everything else I was feeling.

We’d bumped into each other that morning, and it felt normal.

Comfortable. That second night I went to see her, I was just reminded of the way she betrayed me and I realised I shut the door on her for a reason. ’

‘That door is now deadbolted, right?’ She took a deep breath.

‘Thrown away the key.’

‘I hate to ask, but she doesn’t know about the drinking, does she?’

‘No, but… maybe I should speak out about my situation, let my fans know why I’ve just disappeared off the face of the planet.

They’re going to be confused about why I’m not racing all of a sudden.

Especially because I raced at Spa and Monza.

I started the season, but I’m not going to finish it. That’s not usual.’

‘You know it’s risky, Brett. Sponsors might not like the truth.’

‘No, but they might like the honesty. The opportunity to bring awareness to mental health and the effects of alcoholism,’ Brett mumbled, proving he wasn’t confident in his words.

‘But first, you need to focus on getting yourself into a position that allows you to use your voice in the way you want. Right now, you’re in the thick of it. Barely in the first step of recovery.’ Lucie spoke gently, hoping she didn’t offend him.

‘Yeah, speaking of. Where the bloody hell are you taking me, Carolan? I’m being held hostage on my own team’s plane.

We’re about to be thirty-five thousand feet in the air.

It’s unnerving. For all I know, you’re going to drop me over some deserted island and make me live out the rest of the season catching my own food and shredding coconuts. ’

‘Do you trust me?’ she laughed. Now the hard stuff was out of the way, jokester Brett was allowed to make his return. Anything to make this feel a little more normal.

‘Always,’ he nodded.

‘We’re going to spend the summer with my parents.’

‘In Tuscany?’ Brett’s face lit up.

‘Yep. We’re going to help them renovate their farmhouse in Capannori.’ Lucie stood up, leading him out of the bedroom so they could get seated for their meal. Brett still needed to sober up.

‘You mean to tell me I get to spend the summer indulging in Rosa’s cooking, working on your dad’s classic cars and lounging around in the sun?’

‘And journalling, therapy, painting walls, fixing the roof…’

‘Yeah, yeah. I’ll be a busy boy. Still, I can’t think of anywhere better to get myself on the straight and narrow. Do you think your mum will make me her famous tiramisu?’ he asked, and he wasn’t exaggerating. It was literally famous; she had a bestselling cookbook published many moons ago.

‘I’m pretty sure she’s planning on bringing some to the airport so you can eat it in the car.’ Lucie’s mum had been making her ‘adopted son’ a tiramisu every single time she saw him for years.

‘I think I’m going to have to ask your dad for his wife’s hand in marriage.’

‘Brett, my darling!’ Rosa Carolan’s voice rang through the arrival terminal of Florence’s airport and just as Lucie had suspected, she stood there with her flip flops, summer dress, straw hat and a dish of tiramisu while Lucie’s dad, Mateo, waved an Australian flag on a stick.

Never mind the fact their own daughter was there, too.

Where was the American flag? Brett always got the fanfare, not just at the racetrack.

‘God, I love them,’ Brett laughed, causing Lucie to scowl and yank her suitcase out of his hand. She would carry it her damn self.

‘Hi, Mum. Dad.’ Lucie hugged them both before stepping aside so they could fawn over her best friend, pinching his cheeks.

‘Rosa, you made this for me?!’ Brett pretended to be shocked, and Rosa played up to it. She was born to be a perfect hostess.

‘Of course! We couldn’t welcome you without it.’

‘She already had it in the fridge,’ Mateo chuckled.

‘We’re so happy to have you both with us, we’re going to have such a good summer!

’ Mateo flung an arm around his daughter as they walked to the car, unable to do the same to Brett due to their height difference.

Lucie and her siblings were never going to inherit good height genes from her parents.

‘Brett, honey, you look like you need a couple of days lounging by the pool before we put you to work.’ Rosa spoke so fast, Lucie almost missed the insult.

‘Mum!’ Lucie whisper-yelled at her, but Brett looked nothing but amused. He was used to the lack of filter that all the Carolan women had been cursed with.

‘Goodness, I’m so sorry. That was insensitive.’

‘No worries, Mrs C. I can’t wait to see the farm. Did all your cars make it over in one piece, sir?’ Brett asked Mateo.

Her dad had inherited a car from her grandpa ten years ago, right when Lucie had started with the IEC and made a friend in Brett.

Since then, he and Brett had travelled all over the world to find more for his collection.

Mateo called them ‘investments’. Brett had gifted him a few; one for his fiftieth, one just because, and one when Mateo and Rosa had retired.

‘Oh, yes! I’m converting the barns to keep them all safe. Rosa is sacrificing her precious horses, at least until we figure out an alternative. Maybe another barn… custom built.’

‘Dad! You promised Mum she could have animals,’ Lucie tutted.

‘I don’t mind. If he’s out there converting the barns, then he’s out of my kitchen. You know how he always gets in my way. Drives me up the wall.’

‘Yeah, and she can have chickens instead. There is a lovely chicken coop out back.’

Lucie glanced at her mum as Brett and Mateo hurled the luggage into the car and was met with a look of pure disgust. Rosa may not want chickens, but she’d accept the apologetic gesture from her husband without complaint to save him feeling guilty.

Lucie couldn’t wait to see the kitchen in all its glory, almost certain that the photos she’d been sent didn’t do it justice.

Her parents had begun renovating when they’d moved here a few years ago, and her Mum’s dream kitchen was a mammoth task that they’d been working on for the last eight months.

It had terracotta accents, an island in the middle with wicker bar stools, two stoves because one would never be enough for Rosa, and an emerald-green tile splashback.

It reminded Lucie of her grandparents’ apartment in Rome, it was where her parents had got their inspiration from, and Mateo had worked day and night when they’d first moved to give his wife a place that felt like home.

Their house in Los Angeles had been way too modern, and not to their taste at all.

That house had been all about making a good impression to their upper-class social circles.

They had both been born and raised in Italy.

Rosa was an Italian film star, Mateo a budding director.

They had moved to Los Angeles for bigger and brighter opportunities and hit the jackpot.

Her parents may have been famous, especially in their home country, but the world had no idea Lucie and her sisters were connected to them.

Sure, people knew they had children, but their identities were kept hidden much like Julien’s daughter had been until recently.

Mateo had adopted the use of Rosa’s maiden name, Clemente, and they had both built their reputations on that.

Their children used Mateo’s actual last name, Carolan, and lived a life out of the public eye.

The motorsport world didn’t know they had the heir of Hollywood cinema working for them, and Lucie preferred it that way. Only her closest friends knew.