“Hey,” I whisper and nudge her. She stirs an inch and makes a tiny noise but she’s still out of it. Trying a little louder this time, I tease her more. ”Mallory, get your hand out of my pants, someone is going to see you!”
Eleven
Mallory
Ms. Mitchell,
Reports from today’s sponsor event are promising. UG Petroleum was pleased with Mr. Gibbes’ appearance. It seems you are doing a fine job keeping a leash on the dog.
Sandra Alix
Director of Marketing and Communication
Celeritas Racing
The email from Sandra is rare praise and even though my mouth is stuffed with the most delicious falafel, I’m grinning ear to ear.
This afternoon’s sponsor event was painfully boring and consisted of Lennox driving executives around in a sports car that looked like a spaceship but they seemed to enjoy themselves. Round and round they went in a closed parking lot for hours. While Lennox was making people scream in terror as he did donuts in the car with them, I used the time to schmooze with the executives. Meeting the CEO of an international oil company never hurts when you want to launch a brand new PR firm.
Lennox did not have to do media today which is probably why he’s been in a good mood all day. Digby was called to the press conference instead, where they grilled him about his error in the last race, which Lennox took childlike satisfaction from. I may have rolled my eyes, but I’ll take the win however I can get it.
“I will cut you!” I stab Lennox’s hand with my fork as he tries, for the 100th time, to steal one of my falafel in the motorhome’s dining hall. Tonight’s feast is a buffet of fragrant rice and chicken, local grouper, falafel, and baklava drizzled with golden honey. The falafel is too good to share and I’m treating myself to all the carbs after my successful day ending in accolades from my ice queen boss.
“Eat your machboos,” Matty pushes the pre-measured plate of chicken and yellow rice back toward Lennox. Matty has shoveled down a pound of shawarma and I’ve been inhaling everything before me while Lennox pushes his chicken around his plate like a toddler refusing to eat his vegetables.
“Oh my god,” I moan around a mouthful of baklava, pistachios, and honey bursting out of the buttery phyllo dough. Lennox stabs a piece of chicken and chews it slowly, glaring at me as I embellish the sweet flavor to antagonize him.
“Luqaymay, Mallory?” Matty passes me a plate of little round dough balls on sticks, a Bahrain cake pop of sorts, the saffron sugar glaze covering them sticky and glistening.
“Don’t mind if I do!” I pip. Matty and I have been having too much fun teasing Lennox. I didn’t know Matty even had a sense of humor, but it seems to come out when he can badger Lennox.
“Both of you can piss off,” Lennox blurts. “And you,” he points at me with his fork, “quit moaning like that.” Obviously, I moan even more when I pull the luqaymay off the stick with my teeth.
“Matty, Jack told me you and Lennox go way back. How did you meet?” Jack had told me Mattias was another ‘stray’ Lennox brought in and I’ve been wanting to hear the story.
“At Sisu Performance. I was in training while he was staying there,” Matty gestures a barren cake pop stick toward Lennox.
“Sisu, what is that?”
“It’s a company in Finland that works with elite athletes, some of the other drivers. A lot of fitness but also nutrition and sleep tracking and psychological training.” Lennox says as he makes his peace with a forkful of rice.
“Is this where you learned your jet lag voodoo?” I ask Matty.
“That’s where he learned all the ways to terrorize me,” Lennox adds with no small amount of sarcasm.
“And then Lennox hired you?”
“Eh, something like that,” Matty shrugs.
“Matty…” Lennox cuts him off and ticks his head.
“What? I don’t care, it’s not a secret,” Matty replies, back to his monotone voice and stoic facial features.
“What’s not a secret?” I pry. Lennox huffs and leans back in his chair, arms crossing his chest.
“I had some trouble with a girl. Went off the rails, got hooked on heroin.” He says flatly as if this was a minor hiccup in his life.
“Oh, wow.” I’m not sure what to say. I would never have guessed the tall Finn, straight-laced and toned like a blond adonis, and militant about Lennox’s health would have said that.