Where life leads us

Chapter 51

Together with George, I ran over the paddock and philosophized with him about why it was first muesli and then milk in the bowl. While the Briton was bringing a new argument next to me, my attention was drawn from him.

It took me a second for the picture to arrive. Then there was no stopping without paying attention to my best friend I ran off. I had just dropped my bag, so I could run into my friend's arms.

With open arms, Lando stood next to his team, just waiting for me to finally be with him. Without hesitation, I jumped off and landed in his arms. He briefly stumbled back two steps back, as I had come with such a swing, but then found his balance again. My legs snaked around his hip and my arms around his neck. Luckily to have my friend back with me in flesh and blood and not just on a display, I immediately pressed my lips on him. I didn't notice that his team and many others were around us.

"I could get used to such a welcome," Lando joked as my lips easily detached from his. Grinning, I gave him another kiss before snuggling my head to his neck.

Andreas was happy for us, but they also had a schedule that they had to keep: "I'm really reluctant to bother you with your reunion, but the press waits and George looks pretty impatient too." I had really forgotten about it, so I quickly looked around for the other Brit. He was standing next to the Spaniard and had my bag in his hand. Slightly forced I broke away from my friend and stood again on my own feet.

"I'll pick you up afterwards," my friend whispered to me as we said goodbye. After Lando also greets George with a handshake and immediately says goodbye, we both continued our paths.

Arriving at the Williams building, the paths of me and George also separated. He and Robert would now do interviews together, and I had office work to do. So, I sat in my office and stared at the computer and let me get mail through. There was also an email from our factory writing about progress and problems with the car for next season. So, there were problems with the gearbox and if that wasn't enough, our sponsor was not satisfied with our results. They were expecting an explanation for our problems, why we were just lagging behind.

With the printed mail I made myself to Claire, who was in her office next door: "ROKit is making print. What should I write to them in response?" I had given her the leaf and settled on a chair. My boss's gaze changed from serious to perplexed and almost exhausted. At the moment you could see this look in Claire's face more often, even if she didn't really want to leave it. Williams' situation had not really improved as a matter of partial sales and was still worrying. The data from the tests and forecasts of the new car did not make it any better. It should be better than the current car, but whether we will be more lucky next year is to be left.

"If ROKit jumps off, we will have a problem. Without a sponsor, our neck swells are broken, we should look for new sponsors if ROKit really jumps off," she massaged her temples.

I bite my lips: "There are also problems with the car for next season, parts of the gearbox don't fit together and the design has to be adjusted again." Without a word, Claire falls backwards in her chair. After this botched start with the winter test, my boss probably got a little panic when she heard about problems with the new car.

"Without problems, our lives would probably be too easy. I take care of RoKit, take a look at our dose of potential sponsors, and maybe you know someone else through your mother. We just have to have a Plan B if we lose our title sponsor," I agreed.

Quietly, I left my boss's office and closed the door behind me. Arriving next to the room, I didn't sit back at the desk, but stood at the window. As my office was facing forward, I could see all the people walking across the grounds. Some seemed stressed, others talked to someone and even laughed. Some entrance from our building, I made up a small group, who especially because of the orange shirts of McLaren caught one's eye. George, Alex, Lando, Charles, Antonio and Carlos stood there. My gaze did not remain with my friend as one might think, but I fixed our driver.