Driven by Ambition, page 22
Chapter 24
Two days later, Jaxxon was ready to go back to work. He’d sent his email and spoken to the other Team Principals who’d appreciated the heads up and their responses had reminded how much he needed to learn to be on their level. Some of them had a decade of experience over him. He had a lot of work to do to get on par with them.
“What has you so jittery this morning?” Freddy asked over bacon and eggs, delivered to their doorway.
“I have work to do.”
“So do it.”
He shook his head, suddenly aware that he was acting like a workaholic which had ruined all his past relationships. “I gave everyone ten days off, so there will be no one at Gamble’s headquarters.”
“And you don’t think you deserve ten days off too?”
He probably needed them, but he was anxious about his career, and the list of things to do had started to run in his brain, and perhaps he was a little bit bored. He didn’t cope with resting very well. “Deserve isn’t the right word.”
“Take the time off. Come somewhere fun with me. The Greek islands are always nice during the summer break. Let’s not go to the Amalfi coast or French Riviera because half the paddock will be there, but Croatia is pretty and so is Sicily.” Freddy sounded like an internet listicle; twenty cool places to visit before you die.
He didn’t need anything so fancy. “I think I want to visit my folks.”
“Oh, okay.” Freddy’s glow disappeared and he looked like a puppy that had been kicked; all sad and alone.
It took him a second to realise why. “Come with me.” They’d already decided they were boyfriends; of course, Freddy would be welcome.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Freddy’s face lit up. “You want me to meet your parents.”
“We aren’t young kids, Freddy. It’s not that big a deal.”
“How many other boyfriends have met your parents?”
Jaxxon rolled his eyes. “If you are hoping to be the first one and therefore special, I hate to break it to you. They’ve met everyone; Alec, Austin...”
“Alfred. Do you have a thing for people starting with A?” The nervous squeak underneath Freddy’s teasing tone was unexpected.
“No. I had a girlfriend in high school called Maya, although I’m pretty sure she just liked me because I helped with her History homework.” Jaxxon’s phone rang, interrupting him. “I have to get this. It’s Mike. ... Hold on a second, Mike.” He waited, then touched Freddy on the shoulder. “Come with me, my folks would love to meet you.”
Mike cackled in his ear. “I heard a rumour that you and Freddy are an item.”
“Yes.” Jaxxon had forgotten to tell his boss, so focused on other people’s reactions, and now he felt like a damned fool.
“Damn, I owe Socrates a twenty.”
“You two bet on us?” He was so accustomed to Socrates’ antics that it didn’t surprise him, and he realised he’d been avoiding telling Socrates because he knew he’d tease him. The words ‘spectacular fuck’ rang in his ears, and he really didn’t want to answer that question. Bloody Socrates would assume a yes given his likely reaction. Well, it was true. He glanced at Freddy who was trying not to laugh.
“I told Socrates that Freddy wasn’t your type.”
“What made you think that?”
“He’s not very ambitious. I figured you’d only want someone whose drive you respected.”
Jaxxon frowned. He didn’t think that was a very fair assessment of Freddy, who put in hours of preparation before each race weekend, to make sure he knew all the statistics and all the interesting things that had happened at each track, and all the drivers and engine mods...
“Then I guess you don’t know me that well.” Jaxxon deliberately used phrasing that could be interpreted in several different ways.
“Interesting. How long has it been going on?”
“Mike.”
“Come on, Socrates will want to know.”
Jaxxon chuckled. “You mean that you want to know, but you are blaming Socrates for your own curiosity.”
“Ahh, you know me too well. Yes, share a few things.”
“What a pair of nosy old queers you two are.” His bosses were incorrigible.
Mike laughed. “Fine. I’ll ring Freddy later and get all the details. He loves a good chat.”
“How is Socrates?”
“He’s doing well. It made a huge difference when you talked them into letting him watch all the races live.”
“He’s a racing driver at heart. You can’t expect someone to heal when you don’t let them have the one thing that’s important to them.” It was obvious to Jaxxon, and he was glad the rehab centre had agreed and it was helping Socrates.
“It’s motivating. Every race he watches helps him remember why he’s doing this.”
Jaxxon swallowed. “Has it been very difficult?”
“Yes and no. Dealing with the alcohol addiction hasn’t been that tricky, however, the rehabilitation after his stroke has been a lot of work. He still has a lot of nerve pain in his left hamstring and he’s rebuilding his coordination slowly.”
“And his reflexes?”
Mike sighed. “To be honest, age and the alcohol had slowly been robbing him of those, so it’s been more of a grieving process to realise that he did that to himself.”
“We don’t have any news on his trophies.” Jaxxon blurted it out. He really needed to put more energy into this over the summer break.
“It’s okay. We are both resigned to never finding them. It’s not your fault.”
Jaxxon was about to protest that; it was literally his fault. He’d been the one who’d wanted to honour Socrates at the car launch. He’d taken them out of their secure storage and put them at risk. But just as he opened his mouth to say that, Freddy started waving his hands and jumping up and down.
“Excuse me, Mike.” Jaxxon pulled the phone away from his head. “What?”
“Seb’s trophy has been found.”
“Holy shit.” He lifted his phone again. “Mike. Mike. Seb’s trophy has been found. Let me call you back when I know some more.”
As soon as he hung up, Freddy started talking in rapid fire words all thrown together in a scramble of excitement. “They found it. Sonia texted me. There’s apparently an art smuggling ring that was trying to export a bunch of items in a shipping container on the back of a train, and authorities in Sweden got a tip off on the arrival and they found the trophy. Well, a whole bunch of art and stuff like that too. Cliff is going to love this.”
“Relax, Freddy. What about Socrates’ trophies?”
“Sorry. Just Seb’s one. But Sonia said they got fingerprints off it, so maybe there’ll be a clue that’ll help find the other ones.”
Jaxxon breathed out. “Damn.”
“Yeah. I wish they’d found all three.”
“So do I.” He flicked a quick text to Mike and sat heavily on the couch, weighed down by this news. It ought to be exciting, not disappointing.
“What’s the matter?”
“It’s the wrong trophy. I know that Seb will be thrilled, but it will only serve to remind Socrates that it’s going to take a whole lot of luck to find his.”
“True. I guess we wait for the police report now? I’ll ring Cliff and see what he thinks.” Freddy sat beside him, resting his hand on Jaxxon’s thigh. “Hey. It’s good news. It’s a clue and it’s more than we had before.”
“Yes.” He wanted to feel reassured by Freddy’s confidence. “What now?”
“Let’s go visit your parents today. It’ll stop you thinking about this.”
Jaxxon stared at Freddy. It was a good point; Jaxxon did need the distraction from work, but... “Today?”
“Yes. Where do they live?”
“Liverpool. It’s not exactly practical to drive up there. It’s a four-and-a-half-hour drive.” Besides, Jaxxon’s car was in Syresthorpe, the village near Pewett Downs, the estate owned by Socrates and where the Gamble Racing headquarters were based. Even if they started now, they wouldn’t get there until dinner time. He sighed. He was on holiday; he could take the day to go and see his parents for a few days.
“We will fly.”
“Fly?”
“Yes. You are familiar with the concept?” Freddy nudged him.
“Yes. I suppose we could do that. If we book a flight soon, we’ll be there for afternoon tea.” Jaxxon could spend his life surrounded by rich people and never once think that the solution to a problem was just to fly somewhere. Doing it for work wasn’t the same as deciding to do something that made his personal life easier.
“It’ll be much faster to charter a helicopter.”
Jaxxon choked. “Excuse me?”
“There’s a service I use. They actually land on this building, so it’s really convenient.”
He breathed out slowly. Just roll with it, Jaxxon. “Okay.”
Two hours later, he sat in the backseat of a helicopter, flying over Liverpool towards his childhood home. Freddy and the pilot chatted away over the radio as he watched his hometown span out underneath them. He’d only been in a helicopter once before, a couple of years ago when he’d first joined Gamble Racing, and Socrates had taken him for a spin in his tiny Robinson to show him Pewett Downs. This helicopter was bigger, and apparently much faster. As promised, they’d arrived here in just over an hour, only two hours after Freddy booked the flight. What a life. Being wealthy really did make everything easier. If he’d been driving, he’d barely be outside London, probably stuck in traffic and generally annoyed with the world.
“We are going to land soon.” The pilot went through the procedures, which Jaxxon ignored because he’d never seen Liverpool from this angle. He pulled out his phone and took a bunch of photos to show his parents. The landing was incredibly smooth. The machine settled down on the ground with barely a thump, and soon enough they stood outside the hangar with Freddy booking a ride share on his phone.
“My folks would’ve come to get us.”
“There’s no need for them to go to any bother when ...” Freddy glanced at his phone. “Susie in her Honda Civic can do it.”
“Okay.”
“Should I bring them a gift?”
Jaxxon paused and stared at Freddy. “Susie?”
“No. Your parents. Should I bring something?” Freddy shifted from one foot to another.
“No.” He wasn’t sure what Freddy was worried about.
“Isn’t it rude?” Maybe it was a rich person thing?
“No. They value time and presence more than presents. Being here is enough of a gift.” He’d heard it so many times as a child; today is a gift, that’s why they call it the present.
“Still, it seems odd to turn up empty handed.”
“I usually take them to the pub for dinner. You can pay if you really want.”
Freddy did that shift from one foot to another again. “Thanks.”
“You don’t need to be nervous. It’s really no big deal.” He rested his hand on Freddy’s lower back, just for a moment, before removing it. He wanted to reassure Freddy that he didn’t need to be nervous, and he wasn’t quite sure how to communicate that effectively. Especially here, in public, and while it should be safe, it was best to be careful. Freddy glanced at him, still with that wary look in his eye. The car pulled up and they got in. Freddy’s leg jiggled the whole way and Jaxxon knew there would be no reassuring him with words.
The resolution came quickly as they pulled up outside the bakery and Jaxxon’s father stood in the doorway.
“Papa.” He jumped out of the car and hugged his father. Or his father hugged him. It’d been too long. He hadn’t seen his folks since he’d been given this promotion back at the start of the year, although he called his mother every week religiously, and usually spoke to his father too. Naturally, they’d heard the entire saga of how Freddy had ended up in his life and he’d sent them a text before they’d left London to inform them of their arrival.
“Jaxxon. Your Ma is inside.”
“This is my Freddy.” He stepped back and waved in Freddy’s direction.
“Sir.” Freddy held out his hand for Papa to shake. Papa, of course, grabbed Freddy’s hand, shook it once, then pulled Freddy into a hug.
“Boy. You might be Jaxxon’s Freddy but is he your Jaxxon?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I like this one, Jaxxon. He is very polite.”
“Manners don’t make the man.”
Papa grinned. “They are a behaviour learned to demonstrate class not the quality of a person.” It was one of Papa’s favourite sayings. Papa clapped Freddy on the back, and he hardly flinched. “Come inside and meet my beautiful wife, Rosie, Jaxxon’s mother.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Call me Jack.” Papa walked back into the shop, leaving Freddy on the street.
“Come on. You’ll be fine.” Jaxxon guided Freddy inside.
“Oh good, Jaxxon, you are here. We are all out of apples. Would you be so good as to head out and grab me some?” Ma threw the keys to her van in his direction, and he caught them.
“Ma. Are you going to say hello to Freddy first?”
“Hello Freddy. Now you boys get me some apples. I’d do it myself, but I heard that this Freddy of yours was a good driver, so he can do the errand.”
Jaxxon knew that his mother approved of Freddy, right there in that moment, because she’d never teased any of his other lovers like that. The peppering of questions about Freddy’s intentions would likely come later. He’d always been able to tell how much Ma approved of someone, based on her questions—the more, the better—but she’d never given the keys to her precious delivery van to someone before. It was a huge act of trust.
“I have also heard that Freddy can drive.” Papa’s eyes glinted as he grinned at Ma. Jaxxon shook his head at this happy foolishness.
“Yeah, he’s alright.” Jaxxon wrapped his arm around Freddy’s waist and grinned. “Come on then.”
“Um...” The blank stare on Freddy’s face made Jaxxon gulp.
“Ma, remember what you told me about how it’s only a joke if everyone is laughing?”
Ma grinned. “Freddy. Welcome to the family. I do need apples, so if you would be so good as to take my darling husband for a drive, he would be most appreciative.”
“Shit.” Freddy’s whispered expletive wasn’t at all what Jaxxon was expecting.
Chapter 25
Freddy didn’t want to admit the problem to these fabulous people. They’d welcomed him without question, to the point of teasing him, which felt like a love language. And damn, his heart was fit to burst at the way Jaxxon’s father—Jack—pulled him into a hug, and Jaxxon called him ‘my Freddy’ and Jaxxon’s mother, Rosie, called him ‘this Freddy of yours’. If it wasn’t about driving, he’d have laughed along with them, but they wanted him to drive their vehicle. There was some sense in it; he used to be a famous race car driver and he talked about car racing for a job. It was probably the only vehicle they owned, and while he didn’t care for any fines—he could afford them—but he didn’t want his name in the press for the wrong reasons. Mostly, it was an embarrassing reminder of the privilege of his birth, something that he felt starkly—a cactus dragged over his skin—while standing in their humble, much loved, small business. The whole place was homely, filled with handwritten signs and several photos of Jaxxon including one of him standing next to a Subaru rally car with the driver holding a trophy, and the smell of freshly baked bread.
“There’s one small problem, ma’am.”
“It’s going to be alright, Freddy. It’s just a delivery van.” Jaxxon’s confidence was misplaced. He could drive anything mechanical, but this technicality meant he couldn’t.
He shook his head. It must be a record, to fuck up meeting wonderful people in such a small time. “I can’t.”
“You can’t drive?” Jack had his face all screwed up.
“Obviously I know how to drive, but I can’t drive your vehicle. Not legally.” He didn’t have a licence.
“Freddy?” Jaxxon’s question invoked a sigh.
“I don’t have a standard road driver’s licence. I never have.”
“But how do you get around the place?” Rosie had an incredulous expression as if his life made zero sense to her and she couldn’t figure out someone so useless could be with her son. Fair enough too.
“Ride shares, cabs, the Tube. I just never needed to get it.” He had only just met these people and now he had to explain. “It never happened. I had my super licence, obviously, but I’ve just never found the time or the need to get a standard one.”
Jaxxon started laughing, then clapped his hand over his mouth, mumbling something that was probably an apology.
“Fine, yes, laugh at me. I must be the only person in the world with a super licence and no normal driver’s licence. It’s more paperwork.” A super licence was purely for driving in S1 and they had to be renewed every three years with strict racing qualification standards. Most people had to have a standard driving licence too, but his team had gotten an exemption from that rule given his age at the time.
“What is this super licence? Can’t you just use that?” Jaxxon’s father asked.
“It’s a racing licence for S1 cars only. While it might impress a cop, depending on the cop, it’s not technically legal outside that one particular class of car on a racetrack, and besides, mine expired years ago.”
“This is all very interesting, but I still need apples.” Jaxxon’s mother waved her hands.
“Yes, we are going. I will drive the van.” Jaxxon jangled the keys. “Papa, do you still want to come?”
“Only if your Freddy drives in the carpark, where it’s not a legal road. I want to be driven by a famous driver.” Jaxxon’s father winked and Jaxxon laughed. This family were so bloody adorable.
“Absolutely I can do that, sir.” His expired super licence was in his wallet, a reminder of a life he didn’t have any more. A funny little prickle clung to the back of his neck. Weird. He didn’t like the idea that he had no licence at all, and now he’d have to start at the very beginning if he wanted to regain any of the racing class licences too. He wasn’t important enough anymore to get any exemptions and he didn’t want to ask for them either.
