Drifting Deception

Chapter Twenty-Nine

HENRY

I had an absolutely awful stint on Sunday. I thought it was going to be great, considering I qualified third. But fuck me, if everything could go wrong with the car, of course, it was going to be while my parents were watching. I didn't even make it twenty laps before I had to retire.

I thought I'd hit the racing rock bottom prior to the summer break, but nope. It had gotten worse. I had no idea how I was still holding on to fourth in the championship.

The only thing that had made the past forty-eight hours better, was the fact that every time I walked through the pit garage, I was reminded of all the filthy things Sydney and I got up to. I didn't mean for our visit to the paddock to get so heated, but the tension in the room grew as we sat there in silence. Her breathing was heavy as her leg brushed against mine. She didn't even have to say a word for me to want to rip her clothes off. I was struggling with this no-sex rule, clearly.

Maurice had sternly requested to see me in his office on Monday morning. We were leaving tomorrow, and apparently whatever news he wanted to share had to be done here. I wondered why.

I paced up the stairs of the motorhome and knocked on his door. I'd been told off too many times for barging in, and I had this weird fear that I was going to walk in on Maurice doing something NSFW.

Three knocks later, Maurice said, "Come in."

I pushed the door open with force, pausing in my tracks when I saw who was accompanying my boss.

Monica— a.k.a., the Ritz Entertainment bitch who'd threatened to ruin my life—sat in the spare chair. I noticed another person was dialling in via Zoom. It was John—the Super Spend sponsor.

Great, if the last twenty-four hours couldn't get any worse. Now I was going to be told they were pulling their sponsorship, and Maurice would tell me I'd lost my seat for next year.

"Hello," Monica said, adjusting her posture so that she was sitting tall and proud.

I nodded, not giving her too much attention. "Afternoon."

I took a seat in the other chair and crossed my arms. I was being cold, that was evident in my demeanour. But it was my instinct to put up walls when being threatened. Especially when my three biggest threats were staring me up and down.

"Thanks for coming on time," Maurice said. He rustled through some paper on his desk. "Monica, would you like to get this meeting started?"

She nodded, crossing her legs as she sank back into her chair. It creaked slowly, making me even more agitated as the seconds flew by.

"Henry, good to see you," she said.

Wish I could say the same, I thought. "And you," I replied.

"The board at Ritz Entertainment wanted to pass on their regards to you. Everyone is extremely proud of how you've turned your life around, even if you needed to be threatened like a child to change your actions." Her condescending tone made me want to stand and leave.

She sat upright. "But of course, we've been in talks regarding our sponsorship with Santoro."

I looked at Maurice, trying to get an indication of their answer. His timid demeanour suggested that he was just out of the loop as I was. He nervously twiddled his fingers and bit his nails as the silence in the room grew. If my day was about to get ruined, so was his.

"We will continue to sponsor Santoro for the next two years," Monica said abruptly, which made Maurice look at me in shock. "We have a contract drafted up, which can be reviewed and renewed at the end of the term."