Driven by Passion, page 7
“It’s all about having bundles of talent...” Victor teased. It was odd to drive a beautiful car and tease Lucien; surreal, really. He must be on holiday because this wasn’t like his normal everyday life.
“I’m not about to pretend I’m not talented. Besides, driving is the only thing I’m good at, so I may as well own it.”
“Fair enough. Before this blasted engine issue, I would’ve said I was a talented engineer.”
Lucien growled under his breath, reminding Victor of a cheetah warning another predator away from his cubs, just like his tattoo. “You are a talented engineer. You will figure it out because you are one of the best.”
“Sure. Fifth best pick for Gamble Racing.” Victor wasn’t sure at all, but his deadline for resolving it had passed and after these few days away with his family, he had to get next year’s car ready for pre-season testing. “If I assume it’s an engine manufacturing issue, then there’s nothing to do done about it anyway.”
“Is it?” Lucien just didn’t know when to quit, did he?
Chapter 8
Lucien didn’t believe Victor’s assumption, or rather, he didn’t believe that Victor believed it. If it was an issue with the engine, then all the other cars running the same engine—a third of the grid—would’ve had the same problems.
“You don’t know when to stop, do you?” Victor didn’t hold back his annoyance with a stringent tone.
“What? I thought we were talking about the engine fires.”
“We are. But I don’t want to. There’s nothing I can do until after Christmas, and I can’t solve this blasted thing, so I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Sure. Okay. Want to listen to some music?” Lucien asked. He was happy to change the subject. The old radio in the car only picked up some of the channels, so he fiddled with the dials for a while until he found something innocuous. He must’ve dosed off because suddenly he heard the engine change down gears, and he opened his eyes to see Victor pulling into a car park.
“Where are we?”
“Carlisle. Want to grab something to drink?”
“Water might be good.”
“Cool. I’ll grab some from the corner shop here and then it’s your turn to drive again.”
Lucien nodded, opened the door, and stepped out to stretch his body. When an older Indian man wandered over, Lucien smiled at him.
“Oh my word, a Merc 300SL with the gullwing doors. In real life.”
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Lucien loved talking to fans, he always soaked up the joy they brought. It’d been the best thing when he was a teenager, having fans in the lower leagues—the die-hard racing fans who couldn’t get enough and the ones who wanted to see the next big thing before they were big just so they could say they knew first—it was the only time people showed that he mattered. His father brushed those fans away, saying that they were a distraction, and Lucien had taken the way that had pissed him right off and made sure he always gave his fans as much time as he could. If he could give them a fraction of the joy, they gave him, it was worth every extra moment.
“I can’t believe it. Please can I touch her?”
“Sure. Want me to take a photo of you beside her?” Lucien asked, loving the way the man’s eyes opened wide.
“That’d be fucking amazing.” He fiddled with his phone a bit, then handed it over, and Lucien took several photos of him standing next to the car. The man’s goofy grin filled the screen. Lucien handed him back his phone and he checked through the photos, then looked up.
“Thanks so much. I never thought I’d see one of these in real life. What a treat.”
“No problem.” Lucien smiled.
“Do I know you? You look so familiar.”
Lucien shook his head. “Unless you are a car racing fan, I doubt it.”
The man stared at him for a second, then Lucien could literally see the moment when he figured it out. “Holy shit. Lucien Grenville.”
“Yes.” Lucien held out his hand and the man shook it.
“Arav Singh. I knew I recognised you. It’s such a thrill to meet an S1 driver in real life.”
“I drive Series E now.”
“Oh, I wondered where you’d gone when they replaced you with Sanchez.”
Lucien smiled. “Technically I offered to go to the E class races first. Gamble Racing partnered with a big tech firm to launch a car there and it made more sense to drive where I could win, than stick with a slow S1 car.”
“Makes sense. I’ll have to check it out. Man, I can’t believe it. This car is a legend. In real life.” Arav’s sigh summed up how Lucien felt too. The 300SL was a truly iconic sex-on-wheels car.
“Thanks. It belongs to my boss, actually.”
“Oh. Well, he’s a lucky guy, and you are lucky to be able to drive it.”
Lucien nodded politely as Victor walked out of the shop, carrying two bottles of water.
“We’d better be on our way. It was nice to meet you.”
“Thank you so much for the photos.”
“No problem.”
Arav turned to walk off, then spun around again. “Is that Victor Tsui? Gamble Racing’s engineer?”
“Yes.” Everyone on the pit wall got plenty of media attention during race weekends. The coverage was quite intense with cameras everywhere, and the fans loved being able to have access to the whole team on screen. It would be even more intense once the annual streaming show that covered the season was released in a couple of months. When that happened, Victor would be famous amongst fans of the show as well as racing fans. It was fascinating how the two groups mostly crossed over, but not always.
“You guys are friends?”
“Yes. I’m going to hang with his family for Christmas.”
Arav smiled. “That’s super cool. Could I trouble you for one more photo? With both of you?”
“Sure. Come on, Victor. You are famous now too!” Lucien laughed at the shy expression on Victor’s face. He stood between both men, pulling them together and prompted Arav to hold up his phone and take a selfie. After a few shots, Lucien laughed and stepped away.
“We need to hit the road. Enjoy your photos and if you put them on your social media, remember to tag me.”
“I will. This has been one of the greatest days of my life.”
“Awesome.” Lucien walked around the car and slid into the driver’s seat and waited until Victor joined him in the car. They both pulled their doors shut and Lucien turned the key, revving the car a little bit just for Arav whose grin split his face. Lucien waved and drove off. Once they were a couple of miles down the road, he eased out a long breath.
“Is it hard?” Victor asked.
“What?”
“Talking to fans like that.”
“Nah. I love their enthusiasm. It’s weird though.”
“What is weird?”
“How many of them say it’s the greatest day of their life? Seriously.”
Victor laughed. “I don’t think that reflects how boring their life is. It’s probably just excitement talking, and by the time the adrenalin wears off, they’ll realise it wasn’t that thrilling after all.”
“Hey. People are always thrilled when they meet me.” Lucien winked, uncaring if Victor saw or not. It was the vibe of it, and honestly, so nice to tease someone, rather than be mad at the whole world all the time. Was this progress? He’d have to remember to ask his therapist next week in their fortnightly appointment. “Can you pass me some of that water?”
They made good progress up the motorway and Lucien was pleased to notice that Victor slept again; he’d been working too many hours in the last couple of months trying to figure out this engine issue. It was an obsession for him, and Lucien probably shouldn’t have prodded him about it. Ever since his father had died, he’d racked up a long list of things he had to apologise for, and now it was automatic to feel rage, then take a deep breath, and work out what he needed to say sorry for. It was a cycle he wanted to break, to get rid of the initial burst of anger at inconsequential things. But the habits of childhood took a long time to unlearn. As his therapist said, he could forgive himself for tripping over the same damned step over and over, because each stumble wasn’t as bad as the one before.
“What is it about this car? I can’t believe I slept again.” Victor’s voice had a slight hoarseness as he woke up from his snooze. Foolishly, Lucien wanted to wake up next to Victor every day and hear the same raspy voice in his ear, with his warm breath against his neck.
“You must need it. A more important question is where are we going to eat lunch?” He had to change the subject before he let some of this spill out in a ... He squared his shoulders to avoid an ugly word vomit that would be guaranteed to cause a mess.
“I don’t know.”
“Aren’t you a local?”
Victor scoffed. “To Scotland? Yeah, which obviously means I know every restaurant in the whole place and have recommendations for you.”
“Enough of the sarcasm. We are almost in Glasgow, over half-way to your parent’s home. Let’s stop off and get some lunch and go for a walk or something.”
“In Glasgow. In winter. I have no desire to freeze my ass off.”
Lucien laughed. “That’s fair.” It was a nice day for a road trip. The sun was out, and the heater in the car made him forget that the outside air was crisp and cool. It’d probably freeze overnight. “Why don’t you look on your phone and figure out somewhere, then direct me.”
“Direct you, or give you directions to the place?”
“That depends on what you want...” Lucien immediately regretted opening his mouth. What if Victor thought he was flirting? Shit. He was flirting with Victor. This couldn’t end up anywhere good; of course, he had to go and ruin a good friendship by thinking about sex. He really should’ve gotten laid during his break at the Maldives.
“Lucien.” Victor’s admonishment reinforced it. There was a long silence, an empty silence filled with regret, but Lucien couldn’t figure out what to say.
“I take it we want something close to the motorway, so we aren’t doing a lot of extra driving?” Victor asked.
“Sure.” Lucien took the relief that came from a basic question and clung onto it. “And make it somewhere nice. Life is too short to eat boring food.”
“Okay. Oh, and turn onto the M73, then the M80. There’s an Italian place a few miles ahead.”
“Perfect. Let’s go there.” Lucian could eat a pizza, or maybe some pasta. He hadn’t really eaten enough today, just coffee, a muffin, and some water. His trainer, Hettie, would be annoyed at him. “Do they have parking?”
“Um.” Victor flicked his thumb over his phone screen. “Yeah, looks like it.”
“Okay. Direct me.”
“You just love saying that, don’t you?” Victor’s quiet chuckle washed across Lucien’s skin, distracting him from the task of driving for a second. Nothing distracted him from driving, oof, that wasn’t good at all. With anyone else, he would’ve said something cute, like ‘you know it baby’, but this was Victor and he really didn’t want to make their friendship awkward, so he ended up just mumbling a yeah in response. Victor read out directions off his phone map, and soon enough, they were parked outside an old pub with a sign that promised an authentic Italian restaurant.
“Let’s hope it’s as good as the reviews.”
Lucien rolled his eyes. “Never trust internet reviews. It’s either, Five stars, so amazing, I wish I could give it ten, or one star, the worst experience of my life. No one who has a mediocre experience bothers with a review. Have you ever seen someone write, yeah, it was fine?”
Much to Lucien’s pleasure, Victor laughed loudly. “Is that what people write about you on the internet?”
“Grenville drove a mediocre race today.” Lucien scoffed. “I try to stay off social media after every race, just let the chat die down for a few days before I read the memes. Some of them can be hilarious.”
“I do love a good S1 meme. People are so clever.”
Lucien had one saved on his phone. “Did you know there’s one of you?”
“Me? Why?”
“It’s a photo of you on the pit wall with your hand on your forehead. People write all sorts of comments to go with it.”
“They do?”
“Yeah, wanna see?”
“Maybe after we sit down. I’m hungry.” Victor walked inside the front door and spoke to the person on the front desk. They followed the young woman to a table near a roaring fire. She handed them menus, then another staff person came over with some table water.
“This is lovely. What do you want?” Victor asked. Lucien read the menu and couldn’t pick anything. His leg jiggled under the table. The fire was too hot, and he plucked at his collar, then removed his jacket and slung it over the empty chair next to him.
“Fuck, I don’t know. Maybe a pizza or something simple.”
“How about we get two pizzas and share them? Then we can get two different types.”
Lucien pushed his heel against the floor to stop his leg moving. “Sure. Fine. How about you chose?” He stood up. “I’ll be back soon.” He walked quickly to the back of the restaurant, hunting for the toilets. He was actually a little dehydrated, not really needing to go, but he needed to move. He’d been sitting for too long, even though he’d slept during the times he wasn’t driving. Road trip driving was a different type of concentration to race driving; it didn’t take the same amount of energy or focus. The same restlessness that had bugged him yesterday returned, and he could hardly go for a two-hour run now, not while they were on a schedule. He locked himself in a cubicle, pissed, flushed, and then buttoned up his jeans again. After washing his hands, and with a few quick breaths, he began. He shadowboxed the wall, running rapidly on the spot, until he was out of breath. And then just a little bit longer so his lungs burned. Good. He shook out his hands. Took a long deep breath. Okay. His brain had settled a little, enough. It had to be enough.
“Right, what did you order?” Lucien slid back into his chair as if nothing had happened. Yes, he was pretending to himself, or as his therapist liked to say, he was visualising the future he wanted and putting his goals into practice.
“I got a traditional Margherita and a Gamberi, so I hope you like garlic and prawns.”
Lucien nodded. “Sounds good.”
“I also got a little starter to share. Some bruschetta with tomato and oregano.”
Lucien had nothing to add. His damned leg was jiggling again, and he shoved it hard into the floor. “Tell me about your father. You don’t really talk about him.” Lucien needed something to distract him, anything, even a story about a father. Fuck, he must be desperate for a distraction.
“He’s a good bloke. An engineer—”
“Your inspiration?” Lucien was glad he’d asked, although the similarity between them hit him like a slap in the face too. His own father was a race car driver and obsessed with his son following—improving—on his own record.
“Yes and no. He’s an electrical engineer; you’d get along with him well. He thinks Series E is the future too.”
Lucien winked at Victor. “He is correct.”
“This is going to be such fun.”
“What?”
“Listening to the two of you talk crap to each other.”
Lucien paused. “Hold up. You get along with your father?”
“Yes.”
“You are lucky.”
“I know. And I’m sorry that you didn’t have that. Every child deserves to know they are loved and cherished.”
Lucien leaned forward. “You want children?” He expected a yes, but Victor shook his head slowly.
“No. My job is such long hours. I would be travelling all the time and I wouldn’t be able to give a child the time and attention they need. I’m happy to spoil my nephew Rory.”
“Cool.” Lucien had never given it any thought. Actually, no, that was a lie. He breathed in and leaned back in his chair. He didn’t believe he was capable of a relationship, let alone caring for a vulnerable child. His anger still flashed too often. Thankfully his ruminations were interrupted by the arrival of their bruschetta.
“Thank you.” He smiled at the waitress. After she’d walked far enough away so she wouldn’t hear him, he winked at Victor. “You know that bruschetta is just fancy toast.”
“And you just drive fast.” Victor grinned.
“Hey, there is more to it than that.”
“Just like there is more to bruschetta than simply being fancy toast. Eat up, we still have four more hours of driving ahead of us.”
Lucien ate a slice of the fancy toast. The fresh tomato and oregano was fragrant, wholesome, and enhanced by a simple olive oil and pepper dressing. “Good choice.”
“Excuse me?”
“Picking this place. It’s warm and the food is delicious.”
Victor flushed a little with a dash of colour across his cheeks. Lucien was about to tease him when the waitress reappeared with a coffee for each of them.
“I thought it might be a good idea, given how far we still have to go.”
“Thanks.” Lucien’s torso tightened, unexpectedly, and he knew what he had to do. “I’m going to drive the next stint.”
“But it’s my turn.”
“I know, but this way, you get to drive the last bit, meaning you’ll be the one to arrive at your parent’s home. It’s the glamour moment.”
The flush on Victor’s face deepened in colour. “Oh. That’s very considerate of you.”
“No problem. I’m more than just a driver, you see.”
Victor grinned. “I know.” Just as the air thickened and almost became weird, Victor frowned. “It’ll be dark when we arrive, so it doesn’t matter who is driving.”
“Their house doesn’t have lights?”
“Yes. We do have electricity in Scotland, you know.”
Lucien loved the outrage on Victor’s face. “Then text your mother. Tell her when we will arrive and to wait outside with the lights on.”
