Rush: Part One & Two (The Pitstop Series Book 3)

Leonard messaged me yesterday, asking if he could come over to discuss something important. I haven’t been feeling very social since my last interaction with Gabriel a couple of days ago, but whatever he wants to discuss sounded urgent over the phone.

After everything he’s done, I didn’t want to deny him the one favor he’s asked of me, no matter how badly I want to be by myself to overthink. Then again, I like Leonard, and spending time with him always brightens up my day.

I place the biscuits I baked on a plate to bring outside onto the veranda, making a plan to prepare the coffees when Leonard arrives. He should be here soon, and, in the meantime, I text Cameron to see how he’s doing.

A minute after I sent the message, he calls to let me know he misses me. Since I feel the same, we take some time to catch up, but Leonard interrupts our conversation. He’s perfectly on time, greeting me with a slight hug for the first time. His fresh scent fills my nose, and I smile at him.This content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” he says as he settles down on the chair I point to, lifting a black folder onto my table.

A small smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth while I study his professional attitude.

“I feel like I’m in trouble,” I tease, and he gives me a half-amused, half-challenging expression.

“Why? What have you done?” he replies, smiling.

I raise my hands in mock surrender, leaning away from him to show my innocence.

“Oh no, you’ve finally done it, haven’t you? I know he can be annoying, but locking Adrian in the basement isn’t the answer,” Leonard says, and I burst into laughter.

“Please, I wouldn’t put him in my basement. I’d lock him in James’ so he’d take the fall for it,” I reply, and the Brit gives me a chuckle while shaking his head. “Anyway, what’s going on? How can I help you with whatever is in that folder?” I ask, and Leonard refocuses on business, his favorite subject to discuss with me.

He’s been opening up more and more toward me, and I love that we’ve connected. I hope, one day, we can be good friends.

“Before I get into what is in this folder, I’d like to explain why I kept my distance from you in the past,” he starts, and I swallow hard.

“You mean why you didn’t like me?” I say to relieve some of the tension, but he frowns at my words.

“It’s not that I didn’t like you, Valentina. You were a constant reminder to me of what is wrong with the sport we love. You reminded me of what I went through, even if our experiences differ. We both had to fight harder than the rest of them, and I hated seeing you hide how much you struggled without being able to do something about it. It made the feelings resurface of when I was a child and tried everything to get accepted by any teams, but I couldn’t do anything to help myself either. My father had to work three jobs to finance my dream, but we heard the word ‘no’ more often than I could keep count,” he says.

I take a deep breath when I remember my body needs oxygen to function.

“Getting close with you wasn’t an option, not until I knew how to help you. That’s why I wanted to become your mentor. You needed someone, who experienced something similar, someone that understood you.”

He opens the folder as he speaks, avoiding eye contact with me, which I’m grateful for. I’m convinced I’d cry if he looked at me.

“You were trying to find a way to help me get a seat?”

All this time I thought he didn’t like me when he was fighting for me. Man… I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have a support system like no one else.

“Of course. I spoke to Mr. Reiner, sat down with him to analyze your times and compare them thoroughly with the rest of the drivers in line for the spot. I didn’t stop until he listened because you, Valentina, have something inside of you that hardly anyone else has. You have the spirit of a true racer. You didn’t give up,” he says, and guilt spreads through my chest.

“I did give up. After they kicked me out of the FDA, I didn’t want to fight anymore. I argued with everyone because they didn’t understand how tiring it is to be rejected all the time. I was ready to find something else, a new career,” I admit, and Leonard lifts his gaze to mine, a warmth settling in my cheeks from his comforting smile.

“But you weren’t looking for anything else, were you?”

I think about the time between Christian getting the Formula Three seat and me getting the F1 one, but he’s right. I said I’d have to find a new passion and couldn’t bring myself to do anything else. I wasn’t done fighting yet, even when I thought I was.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” he says and hands me the folder, but I’m stuck on something else he brought up before.

“You were responsible for getting me that spot in the FDA?” I ask, panic filling his eyes when he hears the disappointment in my voice.

“No, no, no, none of that! I sat down with your statistics, with your lap times, and proved to him you’re worth taking a chance on. It’s different for me, I’m already a Formula One driver with a good, reliable reputation. My word, my opinions, they matter to these people, but it doesn’t change your talent. Don’t you start doubting yourself,” he scolds, pointing at me with a warning finger.

I let out a small laugh and assure him I won’t.

“Okay, tell me, what’s this?” I ask, looking down at the pages in front of me.

“It’s an idea I had, and I want you to be my partner,” he says, and my heart momentarily forgets how to beat.

The title of the first page reads ‘Driver Academy for Kids Like Us’.

“I want to open a race school for children that have been denied a chance because of who they are, where they come from, and what opportunities they’ve been given. I came from a low-income family and only had enough money to get into racing because my dad found someone, who wanted to sponsor me. This school is going to be the place where talented children get the chance of proving themselves, and, based on their results, not the color of their skin or their gender, they will be judged. We’ll need a lot of sponsors and partners in this endeavor, but I want your name to be right next to mine.”

I listen to him, scanning the page of the folder to see what sponsors he intends on having invest.

“This is a wonderful idea, Leonard, but who the hell would be crazy enough to invest in something without foreseeable profit?” I ask, and he leans forward on the table, ready to prove me wrong.

“In the long run, they’ll make money from the drivers. Plus, nowadays, Formula One, Two, Three, and Four pride themselves on being diverse and inclusive. This is their way of showing it to the world.”

I nod, still reading over his papers.

“I know it won’t be easy, but I’d like to try and make a difference, and, like I said, I want you to be my partner.”

He reaches for the folder, flipping it back to the first page and tapping the name.

“‘For Kids Like Us’,” he says, and my heart sinks into my chest.

“I don’t know how much time I can put into this academy with my career just taking off,” I explain, but Leonard smiles at me.

“All I need from you is advice, strategy planning, and bagging investors. You’re a force to be reckoned with, Val, and they will see that. You could be a key part of this school because you’re the first woman to ever get a spot in Formula One. So, what do you say?”

I cock an eyebrow, staying silent to build suspense, but I already have an answer for him.

“Come on, luv, don’t do that to me,” he begs, and I can’t help but smile at the side he’s showing me.

“I would love nothing more than to be your partner on this,” I say, standing up and holding out my hand for him to shake.

Instead, he walks around the table to wrap his arms around me.

“Thank you,” Leonard says, and I hug him back, needing the comfort of it for more than one reason.

“Thank you for fighting for me.”