Drifting Deception

Chapter Twenty-Six

SYDNEY

The Zandvoort track looked much scarier now that I was standing at the top of the grandstand, psyching myself up for the circuit. It was Wednesday, and so the season hadn't resumed just yet. But as promised, Henry said he would take me around the track.

We were going to drive it in a McLaren 570S, but that didn't mean we could sit in the seats as is. Henry had arranged for me to wear a Santoro-branded race suit, along with a personalised helmet.

"You nervous?" he asked as I entered the motorhome.

"No," I said...as I nodded my head.

Henry laughed as he walked over to the changing room. The shiny new race suit was hung up on the middle locker, but it didn't ease my nerves.

"Is this a good idea?" I asked as I stared at my helmet. The sides were graced with a beautiful koru design, while the silver fern rested on the top. It was gorgeous, and I was so grateful that Henry had incorporated my home into art.

Henry kissed me on the cheek. "Trust me, okay?"

I nodded, though I couldn't one hundred per cent trust him. He was a great driver, no doubt. But even the best drivers had accidents. I prayed there was no bad luck attached to me.

"Before we go out, I've got you something," Henry said as he reached into his pocket. He rustled with something before pulling out two things.

Nausea wristbands and anti-nausea pills. I looked up at him, shocked.

"I figured since you suffer from motion sickness, I'd buy you these," Henry said, smiling. "The racetrack can be a bit nauseating for those who aren't used to it."

That was so thoughtful. Probably the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for me. It was the little things in life that made me feel warm and giddy, and boy did Henry know all the right things to do.

"Thank you," I said, still smiling. "I really appreciate that."

Henry smiled before cracking open the container and holding out the wristbands. I slid my hands through each of them and adjusted them into place.

"It says to take one pill ten minutes before," he said as he read the pill package.

"Perfect. I'll take one now." I reached for my bottle and held eye contact as I sipped it. Months ago, I had made a passing comment about how I would be sick if I ever went around a Formula One circuit. Then we had the spiel in Greece where he looked after me on the boat. Both of those moments could've been forgotten by anyone. But he'd remembered.

"Okay," I said as I looked at the race suit. I swallowed a large gulp. "Let's do this."

The ground was harder than I thought it would be. For some odd reason, I pictured the track being made out of bouncy material to lessen the impact on a driver. What a dumb thought that was...because it was very well in fact, concrete.

I may have taken an anti-nausea pill, but that didn't stop the uncomfortable feeling that came alongside my nerves.

Henry looked back at me as he rested against the driver's door. "If you're not comfortable, you know you don't have to do this."

I nodded. "I know I don't, but I'm not backing out."

He grinned. "You look sexy in that race suit."

I smiled. "Does it remind you of when I wore your number on my back?"

Henry let out a shuddering breath. "The things you do to me, ma chérie."

I shook my head before gently putting on my helmet. It was funny; it felt snug, yet it also lacked the sense of protection I had expected. If I crashed, I wasn't certain this would be enough to save me.