I push through the next half-hour after Nicola promises she'll have food for us at the end. When we're done, she takes Seb and me into an upstairs conference room. Nigel is already there at the head of an oval table, rocking back and forth in a leather chair. A half eaten takeaway container of pasta is in front of him, while wrapped sandwiches are at two other places.
"I got you roasted Portobello, tomato and feta on a ciabatta roll," Nicola says, pointing to one of the packages before setting down a stack of unsigned posters. "I hope that's okay."
"It's great," I say, expecting my teammate to take the chair next to me with the other sandwich. Instead, Nicola slides into that spot and Seb sits directly opposite, nursing the bottle of Coke he'd been sipping all morning.
"Big breakfast?" I ask, noting his lack of food.
He doesn't hesitate. "Lunch plans."
"Ah." I wish I hadn't asked. Now I want to know whom he's meeting, no doubt counting the minutes until he can get out of here.
"Go ahead and start eating because I'm going to be doing most of the talking," Nigel says, leaning his arms on the table.
Nicola unwraps her sandwich, but not expecting a team meeting, my appetite has suddenly decreased. I guess this is why Seb is here even though he's not having anything.
"I've already got Pietro and Celia on the line." Nigel leans over the table and fiddles with the triangular contraption in the middle. Loaded with buttons on one side and topped with tiny holes; it's super high-tech for a conference call device.
Seb looks as surprised at the statement as I am. This makes me feel slightly better, but my palms are still getting increasingly sweaty as I peel the butcher paper off my lunch. I can't even imagine why our team manager called both of our agents today.
"Are you there? Can you hear me?" Nigel asks into the receiver after he manages to take it off mute.
"Loud and clear." Celia's voice comes through the speaker.
"Brilliant. And how about you, Pietro?" Nigel asks for Seb's rep, but even after a few seconds, there's no response. "Bloody hell. I think we lost Pietro. Typical, too. He's across town and we can't get him, while the connection to New York is crystal. Nicola, could you try to get him back on the line, please?" He pushes the console toward the woman who puts down her food and gets to work on pressing more buttons.
As Nigel digs back into his pasta, I also take a few bites of my sandwich. No matter what the upcoming conversation will involve, I'll probably feel even less like eating afterward.
I'd just gotten a big mouthful of the soft, olive oil braised mushroom when Seb's agent rejoins. "Apologies, Nigel," Pietro says from the other end of the line. "I think I press something and I lose you."
"No worries, my friend." Nigel puts down his fork and wipes his mouth with a napkin. "Thanks for joining us and especially you, Celia, because it is still rather early where you are."
"It's quite all right. I've got my cup of joe, so I'm wide awake now." Celia laughs.
"Good. Good." Nigel nods before leaning back. "Just so everyone is up to speed, I wanted all of us to be in on this conversation so there are no misunderstandings."
This sounds serious. No wonder my breathing is shallow and my hand freezes mid-bite.
"Now, we all know that some news came out on Monday regarding Seb and Lauren that both of them have categorically denied." He glances at us before returning his attention to the conference call unit. "We originally took a 'no comment' approach, which has only seemed to fan the flames of gossip even more, so to speak."
Oh, this is bad. I scoot to the edge of my chair as Nigel steeples his fingers.
"What I'm getting at is that after consultation with both Pietro and Celia, I have decided that it may be best to use these developments to our advantage," he says.
There must be something I missed, because I'm confused as hell. "Sorry, but how can we gain something from lies?" I ask.
"Listen, kid. You know this is a business," Celia says through the phone. "You were the shiny new toy for a while, but there's always a bigger and better story. And if it's not you, then it'll be someone else. I agree with Nigel. Strike while the iron is hot. People want to know what happened in that hotel room? Even the idea of something salacious sells. We're not saying lie. Just open up the door enough to allow people to freely use their imaginations."
Celia is always at least two steps ahead in her thinking when she negotiates, so I'm sure there's more to this than she's letting on. But she also had not only the foresight, but also the faith in me to put a critical escape clause in my prior contract with Honda. If it weren't for the option for me to leave that team in the middle of the US series on the condition that I had an offer from a world team, I couldn't have joined Cadmium mid-year. The only reason Honda had agreed to the unusual request was because they never thought the opportunity would come up. It's only out of my respect for Celia and what she's gotten for me so far that I continue to listen.
"I couldn't have said it better myself," Nigel adds. "Having you in WRRF opens up a potentially huge new market. People who never even thought about being interested in motorcycle racing are tuning in to take a look at the new girl. The trick is to keep them watching and get them to buy what you are promoting. That is where the power lies, but the novelty of being first girl will wear off soon enough. What will keep them coming back, do you think?"
I close my eyes and rub my forehead. If I understand correctly, everyone in a position of power around me is advocating flaunting a non-existent relationship for the sake of making money. It's unreal.
Nigel continues by answering his own question. "The narrative. The story. The spin. That will maintain the focus on you—on Cadmium—and strengthen your marketability."
I sigh, looking up. "What exactly do you mean by spin?"
"Continue to confirm or deny nothing," Pietro says through the speakerphone. "But when you and Seb are out in public, maybe put on a little show. Act like something could have happened. We will all know that it is innocent, but the people out there will not."
"Act," Nigel repeats. "That is the key word here. It's just a show, and under no circumstances can you say anything about this to anyone outside this room . . . except maybe Marcus," he adds after a slight hesitation.
I wish I could get Dad's opinion on this right now, but I'm not getting much time here. His support could change Celia's mind. She usually deferred to his judgment in the past. Then again, I am now eighteen and that comes with making my own decisions. "No. I won't do it," I say, pulling myself straight in the chair.
My Aussie boss crosses his arms. "You don't have a choice, I'm afraid."
"The hell I don't. This is my reputation you're playing with, Nigel. Instead of outright denying that stupid article, you want me to add even more lies to it? No, thank you. I've had to fight to get every ounce of respect I get in the paddock, and I'm not throwing that away. As if being the 'Pit Lane Persephone.'" I make air quotes with my fingers before continuing, "Isn't bad enough."
He points to the design on the helmet tucked under my arm on the posters in front of Nicola. "You seem to have embraced that rather easily? Or is using the media only good when it personally benefits the Lauren Dimas brand?"
With my palms on the table, I literally have to hold myself back from bolting out of the room. "I never asked for that, but at least I made the best of it," I say, forcing my tone to remain even.
"And that's what we intend to do with this, as well," Nicola finally speaks up. "Don't forget that under the guise of team PR, we can make the two of you appear in public together, and you're required to be at least civil to each other when doing so. So yeah, this is still very much under our purview."
I tap my fingers on the table and silently look to Seb for support, but he just shrugs.
Of course he does. Guys rarely suffer any consequences in these situations. Hell, they get called players and receive manly pats on the back. I'm the one who's getting the short end of this deal. I'll get dragged in the press more than ever for supposedly crushing on my teammate instead of focusing on my job. The WAGs will also think I'm an even bigger hypocrite than they already do. Worst of all, being forced to spend time with Seb is going to make it that much harder for the charade to not turn into reality.
But if my teammate agrees that we have no other choice, I'm going to have to trust him on this one. I stop drumming and grimace at Nigel. "Fine. I'll do it. When do we start?"