All the Way - an F1 story

45

12 November , 2021
📍São Paulo, Brazil

The miniature black-and-red car froze on the computer screen once more, for what was probably the dozenth time in the past twenty minutes.

"There," Henry said, the tip of his pen guiding Calina's attention. "You were going way too early, even on the sim."

"Henry, I get you, but I have to do what feels best." Calina replied, grabbing a grape from the bowl between them. "Look, I saw their times from 2019. Let's say Ferrari and McLaren are still at that same level—not pace, I know—let's just say. If I go on the usual line, then it's gonna fuck me up, and they'll get closer."

The driver had made arrangements with her strategist to meet before practice, as Henry apparently decided their lunchtime was a perfect time to be drilling her about her racing lines. The briefing room was empty, except for the two of them and the occasional engineer that passed through to collect some files for the car's setups, or reports from the team back in Italy.

Henry leaned back in his seat, eyeing the young woman carefully.

"You know I know that you know what you're talking about, but this," he began, gesturing at the paused image of Calina's unconventional approach to the first turn. "Cal, that's basically opening up a good opportunity for whoever is chasing you."

"You just said you know that I know what I'm doing."

"Yeah, I do."

"So then let me try this," Calina said. "You think I don't know it's risky. But this way feels the best, and we are saving time."

Henry wasn't looking too convinced, but Calina knew it was all in good faith. They were in the final rounds of the season, and every advantage they could gain was crucial going up against Ferrari and McLaren.

"Are you really sure?"

"I am."

"Fine, then," Henry replied, gathering his things on the table. "I've got to meet Serafina—oh, and Mari wanted me to tell you she's waiting for you in the garage."

Calina nodded, tying her suit around her waist as she exited the hospitality. The paddock was lively, to say the least, and it was a refreshing sight. She offered a brief wave to the fans on the balconies above her as she entered the garage, which was in its usual state of mild chaos. Mona directed her to the female mechanics' changeroom, where she found Marilena talking very animatedly on the phone.

"Non me ne frega per un cazzo che tu pensi," Marilena exclaimed, practically on the verge of shouting at whoever was on the other end of the line. "Hai già fatto un casino, e sei fortunata che Marco non ha detto niente ancora!"

"Tutto bene, Mari?"

The older woman looked up at Calina, almost stunned, before nodding quickly.

"Ci vediamo a Dubai," Marilena said into her phone, and not even waiting for a reply before she hung up, a warm smile plastered on her face as she directed all her attention to her driver. "Calì! Sorry, I—it's—that  wasn't anything important."

Calina nodded, though she knew something was up, but she didn't want to push Marilena.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes!" Marilena led her out of the small room, and towards the garage. ""Your new engineer is here, and I wanted you guys to meet."

"Shit, he's here!" Calina had nearly forgotten Melissa had mentioned her new race engineer would be at the track.

If she was entirely honest, working with a man was making her nervous. Henry was fine; she had known him for years, and eventually, they came to understand each other, but most of the other male engineers she had worked with had been either difficult, or had hated her to the point where they didn't want to work with her, some even taking some... extreme measures.