Commitment Collection 2- Ignition; Turbo Charged; Pole Position, page 27
part #4 of Commitment Series
“Great, I’ll get on with-” Jessie is cut off by Elliott’s phone.
He picks it out of his pocket and nods at the caller display. “It’s Daisy, and she’s already called once when I was up at the house. I need to take this. It must be important. Jessie, can you sort the NDA with Clifford please? Let’s reconvene when everything is sorted. Then we can get on with training you up, Axel, and making you a real part of this business.”
Elliott answers his call then as Axel and Jessie leave, and I’m left reeling. Did I just hear him right? Before he makes Axel part of the business? Here we go.
Elliott
When Daisy phones twice, I know she’s not calling to catch up. She wouldn’t bother me again if this wasn’t urgent.
“Daisy.” I’m a bit pissed with her since the whole mess with her almost pulling out her investment. It’s not that I hold her into a deal because she’s an old friend. I understand that she needs to make financial rather than friendship-based decisions. What I do hold against her though is the fact that she didn’t bother to turn up to the event that convinced every other shareholder that they were into a good thing with us, and then the next day threatened to blow our world apart by holding us to a time bomb.
Nope, not a good friendship in my book. I don’t care how much business we’re in together. There is a way to behave, and that was not it.
“Hi, Elliott. It’s been a while,” she purrs like a black cat, all silken, begging for attention until it swipes at you with a paw of raw blades.
“How can I help, Daisy?”
“Oh, don’t be like that, Elliott. I know I did wrong. I’ve called to apologize to you and to Kyle. I wasn’t sure who to speak with first, but then I thought that seeing as you’re my old friend, I would call you.”
“Kyle is here. I’ll put you on loudspeaker so you can speak to us both at once. Don’t let anyone say I’m not a problem solver.” I say that last part as I remove the speaker from my ear, uninterested in any response she has. I click on the speaker button before tossing my handset onto the table between Kyle and me,
“Oh, Kyle, hi there.” She’s still purring and for the first time I see why Kyle has never really liked her. She has danger laced through every pore of her body.
“Did you have something you needed to discuss, Daisy?” I prompt. I have better things to do than listen to her.
“I do. I wanted to give my sincerest apologies for the way I behaved. I hope you will forgive me. It was out of character, and I’m so sorry for jerking you boys around.”
Kyle produces a retching face with two fingers parked down the back of his throat. It makes me laugh silently and although I’m not into Daisy right now, I have to thank her for indirectly bringing the first genuine smile to my face in longer than I’d like.
However, neither of us is about to do the polite thing and tell Daisy that her behavior was ‘OK,’ as she’s no doubt hoping. And so, she meets with a stony silence.
She fills it. “OK, so full disclosure. I was going through some shit that I didn’t want to get you guys involved in. I thought I’d left my past behind me, but you know how these sorts are. Every now and again they raise their ugly heads, and I’m left living in the past again.”
I have to say, much as I don’t like Daisy right now, I’m with her on that one. I still don’t tell her though, wanting to hear her out.
“So, anyway. These crazy motherfuckers were out to get me and the only thing I could think of was to liquidate my assets and get the hell out of the country. I was scared for my life, El. They’re nasty pieces of work. Luckily, it all died down before I ended up getting on the plane. But, I didn’t want to involve you. You were going through enough already, so I kept my mouth shut and got on with it.”
Now, I’m angry and she catches all the frustrations from the past year. “I thought we were friends, Daisy. You not only let us down in business, but you didn’t think enough of us to bother to tell us what was going on in your life. If we had known, don’t you think that we could have helped and that we would have taken a different stance on you dumping us well and truly in the fucking shit?”
Kyle walks around to sit next to me, placing his palm between my shoulder blades and staring at me with eyes that implore me to calm down before I end up having a heart attack. I can see all of that in his face, and yet, I need to get this out. “Daisy, you behaved like a dick. What harm would it have been to just say what was going on?”
“Because then they would have gone after you. I was being blackmailed, Elliott, and I was told not to let anyone else know. I don’t want to go into everything now. Thank goodness it’s passed now, but you know the types of people I used to associate with. They’re not messing around and the last thing you needed was my crazy fucking past blowing the hell over your already struggling business. It would have finished you off. The best thing that I could have done was cut all ties, pull my money out, and disappear. Luckily it didn’t come to that.”
“But, Daisy, I don’t understand. Why did you have to give us the deadline with the bank?” Kyle is more rational.
“That was for your own good, because you needed to get your own crap sorted before that two-bit pen pusher at the bank brought you guys down. Plus, if my guys did have any kind of impact on you, it was essential that you were in as strong a position as you could be.”
Kyle is actually listening to what she’s saying with a rational head. He’s not wound up, and I get the distinct sense that he agrees with the points she’s making.
Daisy pipes up again, “Do you want another bit of advice for free?”
I’m about to comment with a resounding, no, when Kyle says, “Go on...”
“Elliott, you’ve done as much as you can at Judd Racing from behind that desk of yours. It’s time to grow a pair and start implementing what you’ve been talking about. Get your ass back in the car and drive for your team next year.” We look at each other. We don’t speak, but that glance conveys all the communication we need. We both nod.
Pole Position
Commitment 6 by Karen Botha
Elliott
There’s nothing like the buzz of being away for the start of the season’s first race weekend. It’s the noise that I notice first; it maxes out my sound receptors in a way I’m no longer used to as cars are off loaded after their journey overseas, temporary offices, factories and homes are erected and everyone readies themselves for a grueling season ahead.
I feel the sound rumble through my body as engines kick start and trucks dispatch performance cars, the likes of which racing has never seen on foreign soil. Crews shout and laugh, excited to be back doing what we all love deep within our core.
But, it’s the smell that transports me back in time. The acrid fumes, the earthy morning dew, being back in the musky camper and on the road again, among the mingling smoke of evening fires and open-air cooking. My insides bubble away like a cauldron concocting a vibrant medicine. One that loads me with optimism.
It’s been three years since I’ve taken a car around the track in a race situation. The essence of who I am is alive again with the start of this weekend. Every single one of my senses is alive with possibility, not only that I will start to win races, but because in so doing, I’ll be me once more.
And it’s those smells that take me back to a time when I was winning and make those possibilities tangible.
My brain has processed the rapid-fire progression of events that got me here today. I know that the team is in place to support everything Judd Racing is striving for and, in turn, I’ve accepted that I don’t need to be at the top of the internal pyramid anymore. Kyle is in fact more than able, but now also ready, to handle whatever the business throws at him as our new, incredibly involved boss man, more commonly known as our Team Principal. And I’ve never been more confident than I am this weekend of jumping inside that cockpit with him on the pit wall, watching my back every step of the way.
Because, if I’m honest, which I’ve never been with anyone else, not even Kyle, that’s why I’ve taken my time to be back behind the wheel again. That accident was a nasty one, and of course, I defied the odds and walked again when everyone thought I’d struggle. But that’s who I am. As soon as I was told no, I knew my answer would be defiance.
No, the reason I didn’t want to get back in the car and careen around a slim strip of tarmac faster than any other person alive is because Kyle is the only person I trusted. The accident happened when he wasn’t doing his normal job and so in my mind, my car only broke and I only crashed and my legs only crumbled into a million pieces because Kyle wasn’t in his usual position and unable to look after me.
But now, Kyle is better placed than he’s ever been to guide me around that circuit, as fast and as safe as possible. The swirling in my stomach is not only from nerves. It’s from processing all the smells, all the sights and sounds, and all of my emotions, and coming out on top.
Elliott Judd is back.
Elliott
We’ve arrived early this morning because I need to take one of the reporters from an international TV station out for a spin on the track. Being lucky enough to have the use of a two-seater performance car, Jon will sit behind me as we whiz around a few laps of the circuit. They’ll cut the piece they film today and drip-feed it into their TV coverage over the weekend, raising our profile and pleasing our sponsors.
I’m not impressed though; the guy is late. So, here I am, all suited up and ready to go, and he’s not here. Axel and I chat about nothing, like two old pals passing the time until he arrives.
Jessie said she wasn’t going to tour with us again, but she didn’t need much convincing to come along on our first race back.
“OK, Elliott, I know what you’re going to say and I’ll come, OK?” She rolled her eyes at me.
“Brilliant.” That was easier than I expected.
“But I won’t be there all season. Axel is doing well, so I’ll leave him to his own devices as soon as I’m confident he’s learned enough. I wouldn’t leave you alone for your first weekend though.”
I lay my arm around her shoulders and give her a quick hug, “Thanks.”
Despite her protests to the contrary, she did leave us alone while she supports Kyle during his first big press conference. “Can you believe it’s raining?” I mutter to Axel.
“It’s cold. I thought this was supposed to be a glamorous life?”
“You thought wrong. The racing calendar itself is pretty tough. We go to a lot of places, but we don’t get to see too much of them. Sometimes, we don’t even travel in to see the cities where we’re racing. We’re just around the track and then back to the airport. But it’s still fun, believe it or not.”
We stand, quiet and relaxed in each other’s company. We’re at that stage now, happy to hang out together, the ordeals of the past behind us. I take the opportunity of this calm moment to mull over how I’ll drive.
It could make for some interesting footage of the popular TV presenter screaming if I push around the bends on the slide. But that kind of behavior could also make me an enemy for life. A very important and influential enemy right at the start of us building our brand. We need the press on board, so I’m more than likely going to drive around this track like an old lady today.
Ten minutes later the guy shows up, dressed in khaki trousers, which are sure to be stained from the filth on the seat, and with his hair brushed back and gelled in a way that makes me laugh to myself. Not because there’s anything wrong with how he looks right now, but when his helmet has been on for a few laps and he’s sweated a bit, well, I’m expecting a different look from the one he’s sporting at the moment.
“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late.”
Well, at least he apologized.
He holds out a hand. “Bad traffic and I think the taxi got lost on the back roads, avoiding the delay and making us even later.” He shakes his head and not a hair moves. It’s glued into place. Perhaps he’ll look OK when we finish after all.
“No problem, but I have another appointment, so shall we get going?”
The camera team is already in place, and Jon does a quick piece introducing what we’re about to do. To be fair, he does it in one take, and it’s impossible to tell that he’s just arrived and should be flustered. He suits up, and we walk to the car together while being filmed joking about how his belly sticks out of his suit.
“You’ll have to come and do a workout with me,” I suggest.
Axel perks up at my side, grabbing his phone to make a note and giving me a thumbs up.
“I might take you up on that, seriously. I’m sure our viewers at home would be interested to see what you put your body through so you can handle one of these monsters.” He directs his comment to the camera following us, rather than me, and I get the distinct impression that our sponsors are going to be delighted. I've already hooked us up with more valuable TV coverage, and that's before we even get into the racing weekend for real.
“Are you ready for this?” I grin, making sure it’s splitting my face.
“I’m not sure.” Jon looks nervous, pulling his face in a series of tight lines meant to demonstrate to the audience that he’s regretting what he’s gotten himself involved in, but I’ve been around enough drivers to know the signs. This guy is pumped as he hops into the car. He has no real nerves, only adrenaline.
“This should be fun.” I nod at the camera, still holding my smile. But it’s more real now. I believe it could be. “Shall we go?”
I’m already slipping into my seat, and he’s only a second after me, bouncing in behind me, sliding his long legs down the side of my seat as we almost lie in the drive position.
“Whoa,” he shouts through the speaker we’re both wired up to in our helmets as the engine thunders to life.
“Let’s go.” I shout, now genuinely excited to be taking this car with Jon in it around the wet track. He does not disappoint. We screech into bends, the back end skidding out to the side. I’m having so much fun that I spin it, misjudging the weight of the unfamiliar chassis. The steering wheel zips off in its own direction, followed shortly after by the car as we rumble over the uneven surface of the grass before launching back onto the track the right way around a few seconds later.
“Agghhh.” He screams, but he’s laughing. This guy has a taste for racing, and I’m building a relationship here that we’ll take through the season with us.
The idea is that he’s going to give me an interview. Each time we’re through a bend, he’s supposed to ask a random question that I’m meant to answer in order to show just how good I am at multi-tasking. But, the guy’s so busy whooping and hollering in my ear that we don’t get a question out until we’re on the last straight.
“So, how does it feel to be back behind the wheel again?”
That’s it. That’s the limit of his creativity. I guess I did a great job with my drive.
I laugh. “I think you can pay testament to the fact that I feel great about it, Jon.”
Once we’re out of the cockpit, we spend about five minutes at the side of the car, running through the question-and-answer section we should have done while careening around the course. But it’s easy. All his questions are fun, and I find that I’ve had a surprisingly good time.
It’s also nice to have Axel around. When Jessie first suggested leaving the company, I couldn’t see how we’d ever be able to operate without her, but I guess times move on. With Axel here, well, I could find myself shifting seamlessly into a new era.
As Axel and I leave, we each shake Jon’s hand, “It was good to see you. We’ll do the workout piece,” I say.
And that’s it. The first interview of the season, the first with Axel by my side, and the first of my new career is complete.
And so is the first drive.
Now, I need to take my bike and get us over to watch what is left of Kyle’s press conference.
Kyle
Today is the press conference day. I, along with most of the other team principals, am on an interview panel. This will be pushed out on social media around the globe as well as a multitude of international TV stations. I have of course been billed to be interviewed against Chase. Our seats are directly next to each other in the middle of the front row.
I didn’t expect anything else.
But still.
Chase, four other team managers, and I will sit in a room and answer a round of quick-fire questions of which an official interrogator would be proud. Journalists shoot at us from fire-breathing, machine-gun mouths, such is their wrath. This isn’t the friendly bunch that does the one-on-one interviews like the one Elliott is conducting this morning. These are the hard-nosed guys who will ask the awkward questions that no one else will.
And of course, it’s no surprise that Chase and I are seated next to each other on the panel.
“Just stick to your line. Show no bitterness and only a passion for racing. But you know all of this, you’ve got this nailed.” Jessie pumps my arm as I stand in the wings, shitting my pants.
“Here we go then!” I sigh, tossing her a tight smile before marching, head down, toward my seat. This has to be the worst part of my job.
When Chase appears on the opposite side of Jessie, his face is set in apathy. But he’s trying too hard. He forgets that I’ve worked with him for long enough to know that he understands the importance of press conferences; there is no way on this earth he’s unconcerned about how today will go. For starters, it’s the first conference of the season, and this will set the tone of what is to come.
That’s before you start with the obvious stand-off the press is looking to create between the two of us.
He’s overplayed his hand. And that knowledge drives a confidence through my spine, making me sit tall with pride.
