Page 21 of Break My Heart

“Okay. Then tell me what you are going to do.”

I don’t hesitate. “My job.”

“I never doubted that. I meant what you’re going to do when you see Leo.”

“That’s the only answer that matters.” I cross my arms over my chest. “He said I would disappear. Let’s see how long that impression lasts.”

“Your attitude has always been a thing of beauty.” Then Aio snickers. “Can you imagine his reaction when he realizes who your father is?”

I shrug before admitting, “Dad never came up other than when I talked about my mom.”

“I wonder if you actually know more people in the industry than he does.”

“Likely. I mean, until Mama died, Dad was at the top of his game.” I blink rapidly, thinking about my mother’s passing. “I figured it out timewise. Dad retired a few years before Leo appeared on the circuit.”

We sit in silence for a few moments before Aio questions, “Are you going to be okay?”

“I have to be.”

Aio nods slowly. “I’ll believe you, but know if you need to not be, we have your back.”

I know by we, she’s referring not only to the team at Castor, but Maya, Amy, and Emery. The five of us have all known each other since our freshman year at Oklahoma Plains University.

I remind myself the sooner I get started, the sooner I can get back to the Leo-less life I was left in. Standing, I reach for the tablet. Once Aio hands it back to me, I announce, “I have a system to optimize.”

As I reach for the door handle, she calls out, “Christin?”

I glance over my shoulder. “Yes?”

“He’s going to feel stupid. May act that way as well.”

“So?”

“Remember, what he did is on him.”

I open my mouth and then snap it shut before walking out the door. In my head, I’m already thinking about the software. Mentally preparing timelines.

Emotionally, I’m preparing myself to see Leo again because it’s going to be vastly different from the last time we were in the same room.

8

PRESSURE DRIVING: FORCING MISTAKES FROM RIVALS

My car is fighting me as I race around the practice track in the Vegas heat.

The readouts tell me I’m not oversteering, nor do I feel like there’s about to be a catastrophic malfunction that will send me into a wall. Instead, it’s subtle lag causing my already piss poor temper to escalate.

I turn again, experiencing a drag that feels a fraction late.

I’m all too aware that my inability to correct something can permanently end it. Just like you did with Christin, I think irately.

Last night, I spent the evening as I have for the last three months: trying to find a way to apologize. I started and saved drafts of texts I know I don’t have the right to send.

I’m sorry.

I didn’t mean what I said.

I miss you.