𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮; oscar piastri ✔

PART TWENTY THREE

Don't say I don't reward you guys.

Word count; 2,187

Lando

— September 9th, 2023. Woking, England.

I stepped out onto the balcony of my hotel room, sliding the door shut behind me, my head still light from the night before - too many negronis and glasses of champagne, mixed with strong stage lights and not enough food. A light downpour covered the sky, the fresh air sobering my mind, and I pressed my phone to my ear.

Ring.

Ring.

Click.

"Hello, this is Starecords Limited, Jane speaking, how may I help you today?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, "Hi Jane, it's Lando."

"Oh, Lando!" She rejoiced. "I didn't recognise the number, I'm so sorry."

"It's all right." I smiled, leaning on the fence of the balcony. "Can you put me through to Gayle?"

"Yes, of course, one moment."

The line went quiet for a moment, my foot tapping on the floor restlessly.

"Lando! It's a bit early in the morning for you, isn't it?" 

"Hey, Gayle." I chuckled awkwardly.

"How's life treating you, boy?"

"Give me a better car and I'll give you a different answer from last time."

"I'll try my best, son." He laughed. "Anyway, what's up?"

"Uh," I rubbed my brow with my thumb and index finger, my mind barely working. "I wanted to ask about someone. I don't know a lot."

"You in some kind of trouble?"

"No, no." I stood upright. "Just curious."

"All right, all right." The sound of a keyboard clacking away. "What's the name?"

"Robert Marlowe." I croaked. "Late forties, maybe. I can tell you his company name."

"Go on?"

"Asco Enterprise." I frowned, trying to remember what Marley had told me before. "I think it's a property investment business, or maybe something to do with aircraft, I really don't know." 

"Hmm." Gayle continued to click away. "Does he have a middle name?"

"Uh," I rubbed my head. "I don't know."

"Give me a moment."

I nodded, walking back and forth across the balcony, the downpour outside becoming heavier.

"You don't mean Robbie Marlowe, son of Raymond Marlowe? Investor and sponsor of Tyrrell Racing?"

"Yes." I cleared my throat. "That would be him."

"What do you want to know?"

"What about Tyrrell Racing?"

"Well," Gayle explained, "Raymond Marlowe invested millions into the team, it seems. Ken Tyrrell - the founder - was a family friend. He even named his son after him."