Race to the Top: Book one in the Racing to Find Love series (2 page)

‘That’s great, Anna. Thank you – I
really mean that. We can pencil in a talk for a few months’ time about how we
go forward with your stories.’

That was management-speak for ‘You
scratch my back, I scratch yours.’

Anna nodded and left the office, Stella
promising she would send her the details and the team contact by the end of the
day.

‘You’re doing
what?!’

Anna’s sister had burst out laughing when she had told her
about her latest assignment, as they sat round her dining table, her kids
happily stuffing slices of pizza in their mouths. Anna shrugged, helplessly.

‘I know, I know. It’s absurd. I can barely drive my own car,
let along write about someone else driving theirs.’ She shook her head ruefully.
‘I’ll need to at least find out the basics before season starts, or I’ll be a
laughing stock.’

Stella had sent through contact details for the guy on the
team Anna needed to liaise with, and she had called him that afternoon. He had
seemed about as thrilled as she did with the assignment, and they had both
glumly discussed arrangements.

‘We move fast,’ he had said.

‘I hope so,’ Anna had replied, ‘I don’t imagine you would win
many races otherwise.’

There had been a thick silence on the other end of the
phone. Apparently Gary Freeland was not in the mood for jokes.

‘When a race is over, sometimes we have to leave within
hours. We can’t have you dilly-dallying about, holding us up. When the plane is
packed, we go.’

Anna felt quite affronted and thought this was an
inauspicious start to their professional relationship.

‘I can assure you, Mr Freeland, I do not “dilly-dally”.’

Gary had grudgingly invited her to come in later that week
to meet the key personnel, including the drivers, and discuss how things would
work. After she hung up, Anna reflected that it was unlikely her and Gary
Freeland were about to come best friends for life.

Her sister, Jules, poked her husband, Dan, in the ribs.

‘You watch a bit of racing, don’t you?’

Dan nodded, enthusiastically.

‘I do. Which team did you say it was you were going to be
following? Most of them have bases here in the UK.’

‘Willis Mechanical I think they’re called,’ Anna replied,
reaching over for a slice of pizza.

‘They’re quite new,’ Dan said, with the air of someone who
knew what he was talking about. ‘Still trying to find their feet, but they’ve
got a good engine and two promising young drivers.’

Jules and Anna caught each other’s eyes. Good engine? Anna
shook her head. Lord, was she ever about to be totally out of her depth…

‘Ooh, are the drivers sexy?’ Jules asked, suddenly, and Dan
looked back at her sternly, gesturing at the children sitting at the table.
They were oblivious though, creating some sort of pizza mountain on Ben’s
plate.

‘I wouldn’t know,’ he said, ‘I watch for the racing.’

Anna snorted as Jules waved a dismissive hand at him. She
loved them as a couple; they complemented each other so well. Dan’s serious
streak reined in Jules’ slightly wild one, and they loved each other with a
real intensity.

Anna thought back to Scott and the many times she had forced
Jules and Dan to sit there, listening to his drivel and his patronising
comments about their lifestyle, and felt guilty. Jules and Dan had never said
anything of course, they loved her too much for that. They had been nothing but
nice to Scott, always inviting him to family occasions and buying him
thoughtful birthday and Christmas gifts. Scott, on the other hand, had sneered
at their ‘simple’ lifestyle: Jules a stay-at-home mother and Dan assistant
manager at a bank.

‘Let’s go find out,’ Jules said, jumping up from the table
and disappearing from the room.

Anna looked at Dan quizzically and he rolled his eyes, but
there was humour in them. Jules was back in a second, carrying her iPad.

‘What are their names?’ she asked, fingers poised over the
screen.

‘Erik with a K Jonasson, that’s J-O-N-A-S-S-O-N, and Devlin
Carter.’

Julia tapped furiously and then let out a whistle. Dan
elbowed her and she laughed, passing Anna the iPad. Anna took it and looked
down. She could see why Julia had whistled – staring broodily back at her from
behind the tablet screen were two extremely attractive young men. Anna read the
caption: ‘Willis Mechanics drivers Erik Jonasson, left, and Devlin Carter are
ready for a battle to the top.’

She looked at Erik Jonasson, left. He was quite tall, or
seemed tall from the photo. He was certainly taller than his teammate beside
him. He had blonde hair, she presumed due to his clearly Scandinavian heritage,
and piercing blue eyes. He looked muscly too – that surprised her; she hadn’t
really thought you would need to have the
body
of a sports star to race
a car. She had assumed you could be as fat as you liked, if all you were doing
was driving a car. Anna voiced this opinion outloud and Dan laughed, shaking
his head at her.

‘No, no, it’s really physically intensive and their weight
is really monitored, too, so the weight of the car isn’t too heavy and it
breaks the rules.’

Oh. Anna drew her eyes away from Erik Jonasson’s chiselled cheekbones
and surveyed his teammate, Devlin Carter, right. He was stockier than his
teammate, with brown hair that was arranged in a way that looked so careless, she
was sure it had taken hour to get right. He had a slight smirk on his face,
which was covered with his stubble, and his eyes looked challenging.

She put the iPad down and Jules looked at her, waiting.

‘Well? Aren’t they hot?’ she asked, ignoring Dan’s pretend
‘hmmph’ noise beside her.

 Anna had to agree, they were an attractive pair.

‘They are hot,’ she admitted. ‘But I doubt they have a brain
cell between them.’

‘Who needs brains when you look like that?’ Jules laughed at
the expression on her sister’s face. ‘Maybe they’ll surprise you.’

Anna doubted it.

***

After she got home that night, she decided it would be wise
to invest in a couple of books that explained at least the basics of the sport.
She was determined to at least keep up with the conversation, even if she
wasn’t able to actively take part in it. Dan had very kindly given her a brief
overview of how the season worked, and the number of racing teams taking part,
but she definitely needed something a bit more substantial before she met the
team and was thrown in at the deep end.

 Anna browsed online, wading through the seemingly never-ending
catalogue of tomes purporting to be
the
definitive guide to racing. She eventually
decided on two suitable-looking books that looked like they were written in an
engaging enough manner to at least hold her attention for an hour or so. With a
couple of clicks, they were ordered, and she sat back, feeling proud of herself.
What now? She thought back to the picture of the two men on the iPad screen
and, after a moment’s pause, she brought up YouTube and typed their names in.

A long list of videos greeted her, and Anna scrolled
through, surprised by how popular this pair seemed to be. She clicked on a
video that seemed to show them racing against each other. She didn’t know much
about racing, but it seemed quite aggressive to me, the cars almost touching at
times. She looked down at the comments, and read, with some amusement, a heated
argument between two girls, ‘Eriksgirl87’ and ‘MrsDevlinCarter’, about who the
better driver was. Evidently, tensions were high here.

Anna scrolled down further and found another video; this
time of them out of the cars, and at a press conference. She clicked play,
intrigued to see what they sounded like.

The two of them were sitting in a sort of tiered seating
area with, she presumed, some of the other drivers around them. She could tell
in the first few seconds that something had obviously happened between them –
and it hadn’t been good. The body language told her that much, and she skipped
forward a bit until she saw one of them speaking. She rewound a few seconds and
pressed play.

‘Erik, you and Devlin got quite close on the track at some
points. Were you worried at any point that your car might sustain some damage?’

Erik Jonasson leaned towards the microphone on the table in
front of him, smiling slightly at the question.

‘It can be intense out there.’ His English was impeccable,
but there was definitely a slight hint of an accent in there. ‘But I can
control my own car and my own race. As for my teammate, you’ll have to ask
him.’

Gosh, that had seemed like a bit of a challenge. Anna’s eyes
sought out Devlin Carter’s face on the screen, and it was like thunder. The
journalist repeated her question to him and he, too, leaned forward to speak
into the mic. Erik Jonasson was watching him, his face impassive.

‘I was faster than Erik,’ he said, shrugging his shoulders.
Anna saw his teammate bristle. This was evidently some sort of pissing contest
in racing speak. She was fascinated. ‘I just couldn’t get a clean pass on him.
He’d been holding me up for a few laps, but I knew the team would want both
cars home safe.’ He smiled, looking pleased with himself, and sat back again.

She closed the laptop lid. Maybe this would be a more
entertaining endeavour than she had imagined – these two seemed to have some
rivalry going on, and it might be quite fun to watch it play out. Even the
other drivers had looked uncomfortable as the two traded verbal blows.

***

Anna had paid for express delivery, as her meeting with her
old pal Gary Freeland and the rest of the team was drawing ever closer. Her new
racing books arrived at work the next afternoon and her colleague Eleanor
popped out from behind her computer, curious.

‘What’s that you’ve got?’

Anna had told her about her new assignment the previous day
– everyone had wanted to know why she had been in Stella’s office. Eleanor had been
jealous, Anna thought, and she was tempted to go in and tell Stella to send her
instead. But Eleanor would not be a good choice and Anna knew Stella would
never accept it. Eleanor was too flighty – and prone to being star-struck when
encountering celebrities, even really awful ones from terrible reality shows.

Anna gestured at the books and then threw her hands up into
the air.

‘Idiots’ guides to racing. I really haven’t a clue.’

Eleanor laughed and came round to stand beside Anna, picking
up one of the books and flicking through its pages.

‘Tyre choice is extremely important – there are a range of
tyres that drivers and their teams must choose from, depending on race strategy
and track conditions,’ she read, in a solemn voice.

‘Tyres?’ Anna asked, her mind spinning. ‘There’s more than
one type of tyre?’ This was news to her. She remembered something vaguely about
snow tyres and wondered if that was what the book meant. Did it snow often
during the racing season? She made a mental note to check all the race
locations for the season. She was only going to three – the first race of the
season, in Australia; Germany, about two-and-a-half months’ later, and then the
final race of the year in Brazil, about three months after that. That seemed
like plenty to her.

Eleanor nodded.

‘Soft tyres are used when the driver needs a shorter burst
of speed; they wear out faster than their harder alternatives,’ she parroted.

‘This is going to be awful,’ Anna wailed, grabbing the book
from Eleanor’s hands and chucking it into her bag. 

Eleanor patted Anna’s shoulder sympathetically.

‘I don’t want you alarm you,’ she said, ‘but I also noticed
a whole section about something called “kers” when I was flicking through.’

Great, Anna thought. Now she had to learn a whole other
language.

By the day of the team meeting, Anna had managed to get
through exactly three chapters of one of the books. She had learnt what a grand
prix was – seemingly just a posh name for one of the races – and she had learnt
that each team had two drivers, as well as test drivers, mechanics, and a host
of other personnel. That was pretty much it. She was sure there had been more
information in the pages she had read, but if any of it had even made it from
her eyes into her brain, it was long gone now. Anna hoped that meeting the team
would be over quickly, before her lack of knowledge and interest became
apparent. Nod and smile, that would be key, she thought.

Anna had dressed up, knowing that first impressions would be
crucial, especially in a sport where glamour and fashion were part of the
lifestyle. She had settled on a smart top and skirt and her new knee-high
boots. She spent more time than usual on her make-up, too, thinking that if she
could at least look the part, she might get away with not knowing her soft
tyres from her, well, non-soft ones. And at least if she did look stupid, she
might not look as if she’d crawled through a hedge to get there.

Anna arrived, bang on time, at the Willis Mechanical HQ. It
was located in the country, to her surprise, but she supposed they needed the
extra space for all the cars, or racing tracks, or whatever it was they needed.
The building was large and predominantly made of glass – which seemed like a
recipe for disaster with overpaid prima-donna drivers and cars racing around at
200mph. Anna introduced herself to the receptionist and she told her to take a
seat, saying Gary Freeland would be along to collect her shortly.

She idly flicked through some of the magazines on the coffee
table next to her. The one on top had Erik Jonasson and Devlin Carter
head-to-head, staring at each other with barely disguised fury. The large
headline over the top read: ‘Clash of the Titans’. Anna leafed through the
glossy pages until she came to the article in question, and scanned it, feeling
it was never too late to try to glean a little bit more information.

As
preparations for the new season hot up, the question on everybody’s lips is
‘who will win this year’s championship?’ It seems almost inevitable that one of
the Willis Mechanics drivers, Erik Jonasson and Devlin Carter, will seize the
opportunity. But, as we saw last season, the pair pulled no punches when racing
each other, and the team must surely be concerned about the potential impact
this personal grudge match could have on their fortunes. 

So, Anna hadn’t got the wrong end of the stick from the
videos she had watched online – there was an intense rivalry here. As she
flicked through some of the other magazines, ending up reading an incredibly
dull article about some engine changes that were due to come in the following
year, a door opened to her far left, and a man in his late 40s strode out. He
was wearing a t-shirt with Willis Mechanics on it, combined with suit trousers
and shiny shoes, and Anna had to suppress a smirk. He looked absurd – who mixed
and matched a t-shirt slathered in logos and branding with a pair of clearly
expensive suit trousers and shoes? She had no doubt that this was the fabled
Gary Freeland, her telephone amigo of the other day. Anna stood up as he approached,
placing the magazine she had been reading back on the pile.

‘Anna Sawyer?’ His tone was clipped and brusque. It seemed
the passage of time had not warmed him to the idea of her joining his entourage.

‘Yes, you must be Gary,’ Anna said, reaching across to shake
his hand. It was limp and clammy, like a dead fish. She dropped it as soon as
was polite, and wondered if it was appropriate to wipe her hand on her skirt.
Probably not.

‘Yes, I’m Gary Freeland. I’m the team principal.’

Anna hadn’t the faintest idea what that meant, but it
sounded important, so she nodded, sagely.

‘Follow me please.’ He turned and headed back through the
door he had come through at a stride, and she was forced into a jog to keep up
with him – not ideal when she was wearing brand new knee-high boots. As they
hurried down a long corridor, Anna tried to look at the photographs that
adorned the walls. She couldn’t see them in any great detail, as she and Gary passed
them at the speed of light, but she could see glimpses of trophies, of men in
helmets cheering, of champagne bottles being popped on a large podium.

Gary stopped abruptly, and Anna almost crashed into the back
of him. They had reached a large set of double doors and she tried to peer
inside, but to no avail – Gary blocked her vision as he turned to her.

‘We’re just about to go and meet the team. Did your editor
run through the rules with you?’

She had, Anna confirmed. Stella had sent her a long list of
requirements from Gary, which included promising not to write anything about
the private lives of the drivers or teams, or relate any conversations without explicit
permission from him. Her columns were evidently to be frilly and without
substance. It was a shame, Anna thought. Perhaps she could do a column on the
clearly fantastic style pulled off by Gary Freeland. She had to disguise a
smirk at the thought.

Gary seemed like he was gathering himself, preparing to
plunge into a pool of cold water. Then he nodded at Anna, and opened the door,
beckoning her to follow.

Anna felt like she had walked into one those Westerns, the
ones where someone enters a bar and everyone stops what they are doing and stares.
She hadn’t thought that actually ever happened in real life, but here she was,
standing awkwardly at the door while about 30 men, and a couple of women,
looked at her. She resisted the urge to wave, thinking it probably lacked the
professional air she was hoping to exude.

‘Everyone,’ Gary said, gesturing at them to come closer, ‘This
is Anna Sawyer. I’ve mentioned her to most of you, but in case anyone is in the
dark, Anna is a writer for
Stylish
magazine, owned by James O’Hare. He
thought it would be nice-’ He spat the world slightly and Anna glared at him. Gary
noticed but carried on in much the same vein. ‘Nice, if she wrote a monthly
column on travelling with the team and the lifestyle. She knows the rules: no
personal stuff, no team talk, nothing without going past me. If you have any
problems with her, come and let me know.’

Anna gave him a withering look, and she heard a snort of
laughter off to her side. She turned and was surprised to see it had come from
one of the drivers – Erik Jonasson. She hadn’t even noticed he was there, she
was so absorbed in looking knowledgeable. He looked just like he had looked on
the videos she had seen; tall and handsome, blonde hair slightly scruffy. In
person, though, his blue eyes were even more piercing, and they sparkled, now,
obviously finding her annoyance at Gary amusing.

‘Yes, Erik?’ Gary snapped, turning to look at him too.

Erik shrugged languidly and Gary glared at him for a moment,
then continued. Anna’s eyes roved over the crowd looking for Devlin Carter, but
she couldn’t see him. Her feet were getting sore from standing, and Gary had
now started talking about some sort of travel arrangements for getting the cars
to the first race.  Anna cast around for a chair, finally spotting a couple of
free ones on the other side of the room. She scurried across and sat down,
pretending to listen.

Gary was in mid-flow about something called a ‘front wing’
when the double doors banged open, and Devlin Carter walked in. He looked just
like he had in the videos too, stocky but still attractive, his carefully
blown-dry hair sweeping across his head. Anna wondered how he handled helmet
hair.

‘Good of you to join us, Devlin.’ Gary looked meaningfully
at his watch and at the clock on the wall.

‘No problem, Gaz,’ Devlin said, to sniggers from around the
room. Anna noticed Erik Jonasson didn’t smile – apparently he didn’t find
Devlin particularly amusing. Gary looked furious for a second but then waved a
hand, indicating Devlin should sit down and shut up pronto. Devlin looked
around for a chair and spotted the empty one beside Anna, making a beeline for
it.

She sat, primly, ignoring him as he gawped at her with
obvious curiosity. Gary droned on, and Anna fished in her bag for her notepad,
deciding that trying to take notes would at least help to keep her awake. Gary
caught the sudden movement, though, and glared at her. Anna got the hint and
she placed her notepad back in her bag with a sigh.

‘Oh, you must be the reporter that’s going to be following
us around.’ Devlin grinned at her, raising an eyebrow. ‘What’s your name?’ He
had at least bothered to lower his voice slightly, but it still felt like they were
naughty children at the back of the class.

‘If you’d been here at the start then you might have found
out,’ Anna hissed back.

He laughed. It wasn’t the effect she had intended to have,
and she made the mistake of making eye contact with him, which he seemed to
take as encouragement to continue.

‘I’m Devlin Carter.’ He stuck out his hand and Anna took it,
feeling a little foolish.

‘I’m Anna, Anna Sawyer. And I’m a feature writer, not a
reporter.’

He looked amused and cocked his eyebrow again, indicating it
was all the same to him. Anna turned away and put all her energy in to
listening to Gary, who was babbling about some sort of simulator. She wondered
if it was like those ones they had at the carnival, where it was like you were
on a spaceship. That didn’t really make sense, but she quite liked the idea.

It seemed that even Gary could eventually run out of things
to say, and class was finally dismissed, after he handed out the information
sheets for the upcoming trip to Australia.

Anna stuffed hers in her handbag and headed for the exit –
she  had no desire to hang around and be pounced upon by Gary again. Or to
engage in idle chit-chat with Devlin, who had seemed interested in her for some
reason.

She realised, as she left the room, that she had no idea how
to actually get out. She hadn’t been paying attention when Gary had whisked her
along earlier, instead using all her energy to keep up with him, and Anna
realised she was lost. She was just contemplating spending the rest of her days
in the long corridor, when she heard a voice behind her.

‘Are you lost?’

Anna turned round, gratefully, and saw with a shock that it
was Erik Jonasson. He smiled at her and she nodded forlornly.

‘I’m afraid so. I thought I was going to have to start a new
life here.’

Erik laughed, white teeth flashing. Up close he was even
more attractive than in the magazines and on TV, Anna thought. His eyes in
particular seemed intelligent, and she wondered if she had done him a disservice
when talking to Jules about racing drivers’ lack of brain cells.

‘I wouldn’t recommend that. I’m pretty sure that’s what
happened to Gary, and now look at him.’

Erik’s eyes twinkled and Anna couldn’t help but grin at him.
She was glad  she wasn’t the only one who found Gary Freeland a bit of a
humorous character.

‘I think I can get you out,’ he whispered conspiratorially,
and she leaned closer to hear him, catching a whiff of his expensive cologne. A
bottle would probably cost more than her house, she thought.

‘Oh yeah?’ Anna whispered back, playing along, vaguely aware
of the smell of him and the closeness of him. She thought of what Jules would
say if she could see her now.

‘Just stay close and if you hear Gary, turn and run and
don’t look back.’

Anna nodded, solemnly and they set off down the corridor
together. She thought Erik’s natural pace would probably be quite fast, but he
slowed right down so she could keep up easily. He was more thoughtful than
Gary, at least.

‘Are you looking forward to the first race?’ he asked, as
they walked down a corridor that bore a striking resemblance to the one they
had been in just a minute before. Anna would definitely have lived out her days
in this labyrinth if he hadn’t come to her rescue, she thought.

‘Yes,’ she said, evidently not very convincingly, as he threw
his head back and laughed.  Anna grinned sheepishly and threw up her hands.
‘I’m sorry, I have to admit, I don’t know much about racing. It wasn’t my
choice to do this and I’m trying to play catch-up.’

She didn’t want to offend him – she
knew he and the other drivers must live for their sport – but Erik didn’t seem
annoyed, just amused. Anna dug into her handbag and withdrew one of the books
she had bought online, waving it at him to prove her point.

Erik took it from her and thumbed
through it quickly, laughing at the little notes she had written herself
inside.

‘Ask about tyres – why do they need
more than one set a race, I only change mine every couple of years,’ he read
out.

Anna flushed and grabbed the book
back. She had forgotten she had written that.

‘Race car tyres aren’t like normal
tyres,’ he explained, as they rounded a corner and Anna saw they had reached
reception. ‘They’re built for speed, not for durability, so the rubber is
really soft. And with how fast we go, they can get worn down pretty quickly.’

Anna nodded. That made more sense
than her book, and she said so. Erik flashed her a quick smile, and Anna felt a
bit weak at the knees. He really was an attractive man. She wasn’t sure she’d
ever spent time in the company of someone so gorgeous.

‘Well, there’s a hell of a long
plane journey coming up, so think of some more questions and I’ll do my best to
answer them for you,’ Erik said, and, with another quick flash of white teeth,
he had gone and Anna was left standing there, not quite sure what had just
happened.

After a few seconds, she shook herself
and headed out the door to find her car. As she was getting in, she heard a car
pull up beside her and she looked round. Devlin Carter was leaning out of the
window of an insanely expensive-looking car.