Chapter 34
Aria’s POV
The office buzzed with the typical hum of activity—people typing, phones ringing, muted conversations in the background. But none of that noise reached me.
“You’re not listening to me, Liam,” I snapped, leaning forward in my chair. The conference room felt too small, like his frustration was crowding the space.
“This plan is reckless. If you push Jackson to start with that strategy, we’ll burn through tires before the second stint.”
Liam threw his hands up. “You think I don’t know how to manage tires? It’s not about the tires, Aria. It’s about getting ahead—now. The data backs me up.”
“And you’re ignoring the bigger picture,” I shot back, pulse pounding.
“A lead in the first ten laps means nothing if we can’t hold onto it. We’ll be eaten alive on the straights when the tires go. Jackson will be a sitting duck.”
“Always so cautious,” Liam muttered, shaking his head. “This is F1, not a Sunday drive.”
“And this isn’t a gamble with Jackson’s career,” I said, standing. “You can’t just throw everything at the wall and hope it sticks. You have to be smart.”
He glared at me, and for a moment, the room went silent. "You think you know better than everyone, don't you?"
"I think I know what'll keep our car in one piece," I replied coolly. "But if you want to take that risk, don’t expect me to clean up the mess after."
The tension hung heavy, but I didn’t flinch. We were at an impasse, and I wasn’t about to back down.
“I need to talk to you. Now.” His voice cut through the office air like a knife. Without waiting for my response, he grabbed my arm, pulling me toward his office.
I yanked my arm free, glaring at him, but followed. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I hissed, glancing back at the team. All eyes were on us, some people pretending not to watch, but they weren’t fooling anyone.
The moment the door shut behind us, Liam turned on me, his expression furious. “What is wrong with you? We were getting along fine, and suddenly, you’ve turned cold. What changed, Aria?”
I folded my arms, trying to maintain my composure, but the heat of anger had been simmering in my chest for days now.
“What changed?” I repeated, my voice shaking with barely contained frustration. “You. You’re what changed. I thought—” I stopped myself, unwilling to let him see just how much I had been thinking about him.
Liam narrowed his eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Don’t act clueless, Liam,” I snapped. “I saw you. Giving flowers to that woman. And here I was, thinking maybe, just maybe, things between us had changed. That maybe you could change. But clearly, I was wrong.”
His face faltered, the anger draining slightly.
“Wait—what? You think—” He ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to keep his own temper in check. “Aria, that wasn’t... It’s not what you think.”
“Oh, spare me,” I shot back.
“You don’t get to play the victim here. I’m not falling for your tricks again. You’re the same as you’ve always been—playing everyone, thinking you can manipulate me like you used to.”
Liam took a step back, his jaw tight. For a moment, he just stared at me, as if weighing his words carefully.
Then, with a sigh, he sank into his chair, the fight seeming to drain out of him. “That woman—she just lost her father, Aria. I was giving her flowers because she’s been having a rough time.”
The words hung in the air between us, like a punch to the gut. I blinked, processing what he’d just said.
The accusation I had hurled at him now felt like a boulder in my chest, heavy with guilt.
I swallowed hard, the anger giving way to a mix of emotions I wasn’t ready to confront. “I... didn’t know,” I muttered, suddenly feeling foolish.
Liam shook his head, his expression hardening. “Of course you didn’t. You assumed the worst of me. Again.”
My throat tightened, and I tried to find the right words to explain myself, to take back the things I had said.
“Liam, I’m sorry, I—”
But he cut me off with a cold, measured tone that sent a shiver down my spine. “No, Aria. You’ve made yourself incredibly clear. If that’s what you think of me, then we don’t have anything further to discuss.”
I opened my mouth to argue, to apologize again, but the finality in his voice stopped me. He turned his back to me, clearly done with the conversation.
I stood there for a few seconds, unsure of what to do, before leaving his office in silence.
Later that afternoon, I barely had time to dwell on the mess with Liam. A high-profile meeting with one of our biggest sponsors was scheduled, and Jackson was supposed to lead it.
I’d been tied up with logistics, so by the time I arrived at the meeting room, it was already in full swing—and Jackson was visibly flustered.
I frowned, quickly taking in the scene. The sponsor reps were sitting at the long table, looking impatient, and Jackson was mid-apology, his words stumbling as he explained the mix-up with the meeting time. They didn’t seem impressed.
“Sorry again for the confusion,” Jackson said, his voice tense as he tried to salvage the conversation. “It was a miscommunication on our end, but—”
One of the reps, a stern-looking woman with sharp eyes, interrupted.
“This kind of mistake is unacceptable for a team of your caliber. We need to know that we can rely on you to be organized and punctual.”
I could see the panic in Jackson’s eyes, and I knew I had to step in before the situation spiraled further out of control.
I smoothly slid into the seat next to him, flashing the sponsors a practiced smile.
“I completely understand your concerns,” I said, keeping my tone calm and confident. “And I assure you, this was an unfortunate mistake that doesn’t reflect our team’s usual professionalism. But let’s focus on what really matters—our performance on the track. We’ve had some incredible wins recently, and Jackson’s been performing at his best.”
The sponsors exchanged glances, still wary but willing to listen.
I spent the next few minutes steering the conversation away from the scheduling error and toward our team’s achievements, highlighting Jackson’s recent races, the improvements in our car’s performance, and our plans for the future.
By the time the meeting ended, the sponsors were nodding along, clearly impressed by the team’s potential. They agreed to stay on board, and the tension in the room dissipated.
Jackson let out a visible sigh of relief as the sponsors left the room. “Thanks for that,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I really screwed that up.”
I waved it off, offering him a small smile. “It happens. Don’t beat yourself up.”
He gave me a sheepish grin. “I guess I owe you one. And... about earlier, when you snapped at me—I get it now. You’ve been dealing with a lot.”
I nodded, appreciating his understanding. “Yeah. Sorry again about that.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Jackson said, his usual laid-back demeanor returning. “You saved the day. We’re even.”
That evening, after what felt like a week’s worth of chaos packed into a single day, I finally made it home. Joe was sitting on the living room floor, his face lit up with excitement as he played with a new toy—a sleek, shiny race car.
“Hey, Mom! Look what I got!” Joe exclaimed, holding up the toy for me to see. “Isn’t it cool?”
I smiled, trying to push aside the stress of the day. “That’s awesome, bud. Where’d you get it?”
“William gave it to me!” Joe beamed, clearly thrilled by the gift.
I froze for a second, confusion washing over me. William? Why would Liam... My mind raced, trying to piece it together. I hadn’t expected Liam to give Joe anything, let alone a race car toy.
“William, huh?” I said slowly, sitting down beside Joe. “Why’d he give you this?”
Joe shrugged, his attention already back on the toy. “He just said he thought I’d like it.”
I paused, confused. I wondered how I had missed the changing attitudes between William and Joe.
Once again, I had allowed myself to become distracted. I needed to focus on my son.
