Stay A While | DR3 | BOOK 2

16 - Done Deal

I was back in my dining room. Sitting with Dad, Carson, Rory, and Eric beside me. Stood, facing the navy blue contract with the two red bulls on it. The confidential stamp, holding back a goldmine of disruptive opportunity.

"Let's do this."

--

The new McLaren Racing Team Principal. Me.

The very thing I walked into the Tech Centre the same evening swearing I wouldn't walk out as. Funny, almost, how that works out.

"Zak?"

My new title, officially as signed on the dotted line. The pen stained beneath its tip, cutting its way along the thick paper until the once empty space held my official signature. I chose to ignore the infuriating fact that they had the contract ready for our meeting that evening. My full name, inked underneath the defining strokes that locked me in with the company for the 2022 season. A done deal.

It was a shock to the system, seeing my name written on the paper. I held it up in front of me against the light, blinking hard while trying to convince myself that this was real. I had thrown any form of doubt to the wolves, letting myself give in to the exterior voices around me for once. How ambition, pride, ego takes over so quickly.

He clapped the contract together after signing his signature beside mine. The stack of papers, which I'm sure now that I didn't read over to the extent Julia or Noah would have made me, that locked in my professional dedication to the team for the next year. "Yes, Alexa?"

"Do you think you could give me the weekend to tell Daniel and Lando?" One last request before I left the building tonight. One last request amidst the multiple negotiations over the past two hours. After they knew, I didn't care what Zak and the PR team did with the news. How they chose to announce it to the race world. "I want them to hear it from me."

Even worse was how excited I felt to be in this position. It felt wrong, in the face of everything, to be happy about doing this. About taking on another huge responsibility. I mean, Team Principal? Who did I think I was? Who have I fooled everyone in this room, in this building, in my life- into thinking I was qualified for this level of expertise?

Maybe because I was so sure I wouldn't. Maybe because this had only come up because of Dads state. This was Dads job. Not mine.

But, it sure as hell felt good calling it mine.

That is, until I snapped back to reality and remembered every single reason why I couldn't do this. A singular storm cloud appearing across a bright blue day, riding the wind until it reached my house and inevitably letting go of every ounce of thunder it had in it.

I didn't have the faintest clue about what it took to run a Formula One team. The only thing that kept me slightly hopeful that everything would be alright was the apparent confidence spread visibly across everyone's faces in this boardroom the moment I said yes.

The collective exhale when pen hit paper, my hand grazing across the table until the only thing I could do was breathe and accept that this was happening. This had to happen.

"Of course," Zak smiled, his voice quiet. Calming. He set a hand on the back of my chair, "I trust you'll let your Dad know as well. And, Carson. Just—" Zak paused. "No one else. But, you know that."