Page 50 of Not So Fast
Mia reached for his arm. “I’m so sorry.”
He slipped his hand into hers. “That’s life, isn’t it?”
Mia had to wonder about the timing. Perhaps some of his struggles this year had to do with the stress of his family situation. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “You’re sweet, but not right now. We’re enjoying ourselves too much.”
Mia left it alone, but later in the walk Xander spoke about the sacrifices his parents and younger siblings made so he could become a Formula One driver. “Imagine being twelve andhaving everything…the household finances, weekend activities, family vacations…all of it dictated by my obsession with racing,” he said. “I’m so thankful my parents believed in me. But I know it was selfish.”
“You were young and you had a dream. They wouldn’t have done it if they didn’t love you,” Mia insisted. “And I think the families of every professional athlete have similar stories of sacrifice.”
“I know. But it eats at me,” Xander said in response.
Again, Mia was left wondering about the larger issue here—the things he felt he owed his family and how that played into his troubles on track.
Over pints of beer, there were heated chess matches, and over glasses of whiskey that made Mia’s throat burn, there were even more serious games of gin rummy, in which Mia handily kicked Xander’s butt. She often couldn’t help herself and delivered a post-game critique outlining his strategic mistakes.
“I can’t believe you played the Queen. You had to know I had the King and Jack,” Mia said.
“I was too distracted by your cleavage in that tank top.” Xanderdidfixate on her breasts. A lot. And she loved it.
“Next time, I’ll wear a different shirt.”
“Or just wear that and I’ll keep losing. Plus, I can’t help but think you’re playing at a higher level than I am. You won fair and square. Despite your magnificent boobs.”
Mia’s smile was impossible to contain at that moment. Was there actually a man in this world who wasn’t intimidated by her brain? She was starting to think there might be.
He even convinced her to work out with him, a humorous endeavor to say the least. Essentially, Mia did a gentle half-hour stint on the elliptical while Xander ran his ass offon the treadmill. Then she stretched and did a few crunches while Xander grunted his way through pull-ups while he held a medicine ball between his knees, and push-ups where his hands and feet were on small rubber balance balls, and then did medieval-looking resistance exercises for his neck. She was flat-out amazed by the physical sacrifices he made for his chosen sport. Having to stay lean and muscular…not too bulky, but also not too slim. It was a careful balance requiring discipline Mia simply did not have, nor did she care to. Life was too short not to enjoy ice cream whenever one felt like it. End of story.
One night they went to the pub, where they sat in the back corner and the locals stopped by to offer their thoughts on his season. Most folks were charitable well-wishers, but one man in particular was not, telling Xander he’d better get his bloody act together, lest he get released by the team and embarrass the entire town. That was Mia’s cue to announce she was tired and wanted to go back to his house.
“Are you okay after all of that?” she’d asked in the car.
“Nothing I haven’t heard before,” he answered, his eyes trained on the road ahead.
For what felt like the millionth time, Mia felt bad for the role she’d played in the chorus of voices critical of his driving form of late. And that left her a bit worried about how he might perform at the next race. If he did poorly, people would expect her to criticize him. But she knew far more about his struggles than her listeners did, and she couldn’t share any of it.
“You’re on an upward trajectory. You can tell that guy to sod off in a few months.”
“He’s the mayor, so I probably shouldn’t.”
Oh. Wow.“Maybe wait to see if he gets reelected.”
Time hadn’t stopped for Mia’s career, either. She was somewhat regretting having given Heather, the president of the newly mintedNSFfan club, her cell number. Heather was very eager, delivering updates at an almost too-regular pace.
Up to 327 members! Yay! What do you think about doing a special fan club T-shirt? I could work on some designs if you don’t have time.
Great idea. Can we talk about it next week, maybe? I’ve been super busy.
Sure thing! Whatever you want. I’m here for you. Also, when will there be a new episode? People have been wondering.
Having brought along some of her equipment, Mia recorded two podcast episodes—one a preview of the upcoming Austrian Grand Prix and before that, a more in-depth look back at everything that had happened in Monaco. “I’ve rewatched the race twice. From everything I saw, the setup for the Mega Racing car in Monaco left both Xander and Dirk with a ridiculous amount of oversteer. The team overcorrected in the wrong direction. It’s no big surprise that Xander lost the rear of the car heading into Portier. It could’ve happened to Dirk just as easily,” she’d said.
Later, Xander said in the living room, “I heard you recording. Dirk didn’t lose the end. Only I did that.”
“It could have happened to either of you. That’s my point. Maybe you just had a bit of bad luck.”
“Maybe.” He set aside his book and with a pat on the cushion next to him, invited her to join him on the couch. “I did appreciate your assessment of the race. You really know yourstuff, Mia. It’s so impressive. I wonder if perhaps you aren’t selling yourself short when you employ snark and sarcasm to speak about the sport.”
