It was another glass of whiskey with ice. Third, if Steve was counting well. He might have been wrong because he wasn't paying attention to it. Instead of drinking, he played with glass. Today he did not like alcohol very much. Karl took a heavy seat next to him.
"I knew I would find you here," he said.
"Where else could I be?"
"You are due to appear at the police station tomorrow. As a witness," Walton announced. He had an A4 envelope in his hand. "We found this," he took out a few photos taken from the security camera. The image was rather blurry, but clearly showed a teenage boy threatening a woman with a knife. Another photo showed a boy with a knife in his hand struggling with Paxton.
"We weren't the first to find this video," Walton continued. "This woman reported to the police. Reportedly, she had been in too much shock before, but then saw the hype in the media. Why didn't you say anything? "
"She ... is she fine?"
"This woman? You know her?"
"No."
Karl clearly felt there was no point in asking any further. He just sighed and put the photos back in the envelope.
"We can handle the media. They will apologize to you ... "
"Come on. We both know I'm not a good boy. You can't build a good image for me in one go. It's better this way." Steve gulped down the glass.
"How long are you going to live like this?" Karl Walton asked reproachfully.
"I live better than her anyway."
"For sure?"
Walton regretted his question the moment he asked it. One look into Paxton's dark eyes was enough.
But Paxton was not angry. He merely motioned to the bartender, who refilled his glass enthusiastically.
Karl looked questioningly at the bartender. This one showed him four fingers. Walton gave him a gentle gesture that this was going to be Paxton's last drink.
"Are you playing my babysitter?" asked the driver, who did not miss this charade.
There was no comment on Walton's meddling in his affairs and that he shouldn't interfere with how much Steve drinks. It wasn't just that Paxton was the driver and he couldn't get drunk. Nor was it that drunk Steve might have sparked a new scandal, though they hadn't dealt with the old one yet. Steve knew that Karl was genuinely concerned only with Paxton's well-being.
"Someone has to."
"So what time should I be at the station?"
"At ten o'clock. You will meet our lawyer there. "
Paxton pursed his lips in disgust.
"He'll be there so you don't have to deal with the boy's parents," Walton assured. "For some parents, their children are always holy, even if they are devils incarnate. Fifteen years and threatening people with a knife. God! " shook his head. "And apparently comes from a good family."
"Sure," Steve admitted with a pinch of sarcasm in his voice. Karl noticed this, but he didn't react.
"We will show these photos to the press and we will threaten that if they do not correct their mistake, our lawyers will tear them apart. Take it easy," he stopped Paxton, who was beginning to get frustrated, "we will not allow their publication. The hype in the media will subside, but we will still have to fight to keep sponsors. "
Paxton disliked this idea. He knew too well what such a "fight" was. Empty smiles, false compliments and butt licking for the rich. Jack Lambert will be delighted, but Steve will feel like he is going to puke throughout the party.
"Good night" Steve stood up heavily and only now felt a slight buzzing in his head. He didn't feel like talking to Karl any more. When you're in a bad mood, it's best to hit your head on the pillow and sleep for the days, weeks to come ... "I'll try to be good."
"Sweet dreams" Walton said goodbye, though he knew there was no way Paxton's dreams could be sweet. It will be a miracle if they are even calm.
This time, Martin did not oversleep. In addition, he was so excited that he woke up early in the morning and waited for the bus long ahead of schedule. Along the way, he had no adventure with the neighbor's cat and children, so the morning started as normal for him. Only one detail made the difference. Martin was even more excited than his first day at work.
In the evening, the Internet media buzzed with rumors about the reprehensible behavior of a racing driver, but today there was silence from the morning. Did that mean someone took care of the case? Martin has watched more than one action movie in his life to know that there are various forms of pressure on the media, from bribery to blackmail. What method did the Fergus Stable use? No matter what, it was important that it was effective.
Still, Martin's nervousness continued. He wanted with all his heart that evidence of Steve's defense had been found and the driver wouldn't have to leave the stable. If Paxton's career were to end with a single punch, there would be something unfair about it.
But there was nothing Martin could do about it. He was just a young mechanic, newly hired, and only on a temporary contract. In the Fergus Stables, or anywhere in the world, he had no power. What Allen had told him yesterday that he might have saved Paxton's ass was an exaggeration. Especially since, as far as he knew, no ass had been saved yet.
From the morning the mechanics acted as if nothing had happened. The drivers usually didn't come to the track too early, giving the mechanics time to get the machines ready, so it was no surprise that Steve was nowhere to be seen. Martin would have died of anxiety had it not been for the enormous amount of work he had to do. In a place like this, not even a rookie could laze around.
Before noon, the other stable driver, Jack Lambert, appeared, causing enthusiastic cheers and applause. Martin, however, ignored him. He was too worried about Steve. When the heavy wrench fell from his hand for the third time that day, Allen pulled him aside.
"It was self-defense," said the chief mechanic. "The kid was attacking with a dangerous tool or something. The police launched an investigation against the boy. Apparently the bastard was bored and wanted to scare random women with a knife. Fucking joker. Steve heard a scream and reacted. "
Martin was relieved that the matter had cleared up in Paxton's favor, but also uneasy. The boy had a knife, and Paxton just ... Was what Allen had said before true? Was Steve really reckless and therefore dangerous even to himself?
Martin didn't really breathe a sigh of relief that day until he saw Paxton's silhouette approaching the car. The driver wore the red and yellow Fergus Stables jumpsuit. He did not seem very concerned with the situation that befell him, and although his gaze was firm and fierce, he exuded his extraordinary charm around him.
At this point, Martin dropped the heavy wrench for the fourth time.
The following days passed almost exactly like the first. The only small exception was Jack, the other driver of the stable, who, despite his greater experience, was not as successful as Steve. For years, Jack Lambert has been at the forefront of the overall standings and has been a strong point in the stable, but without success allowing him to jump above GP 2. He has won three races throughout his career, finished second several times, but mainly placed third and seventh in races. It was not the worst result considering the fierce rivalry in the lead, but over the years it has brought him and the whole team a lot of frustration. Younger drivers came and went, Jack had been driving for this stable for ten years, that is, from the beginning of its existence. He competed in races even longer with similar successes in the now defunct Formula 3000.
His position in the stable was so stable that he did not have to worry about work. He may not be an out-of-the-box celebrity, but sponsors and the media liked him. It was even said that three years ago, when the management board changed and the team had financial problems because the new authorities had radically reduced the outlays for the stable, Jacek managed to get a strong injection of funds from one of the stable sponsors. He was a really good driver but always lacked luck. At a time when everyone expected this season to be his own, a new hothead would appear and take advantage of the beginner's luck.
Steve became a star last season, third in the overall standings, although he only competed in the latter part of the season.
From the beginning it was obvious that they didn't like each other, although they didn't get into any open conflicts. Usually they just passed each other in silence.
When he worked, Steve was completely different from the playboy shown on television. He concentrated on his tasks and usually disappeared right after completing the laps planned for the day. He was serious and, unlike Jack, he did not seek the company of his stable mates. Martin had no idea how the driver spent the rest of the day, although he couldn't say he wasn't interested in it. His job was to assist with Steve's car, not stick his nose in his arguments, and that's what he did.
But Jack was everywhere. He liked to chat with mechanics and invite them for a beer after work. He was well-liked among them, but Martin had an inexplicable dislike of him. He had no doubt that he was a decent guy, but there was something soft and not entirely honest about his demeanor. Martin couldn't bring himself to accept his invitation for a drink, even if they were going to go with the whole group
"These two really don't like each other, do they?" He asked Allen one afternoon when the rest of the crew had already dispersed.
Abe shrugged.
"And which drivers love each other?"
"You are sure it's just that?"
"You are perceptive. At first it was just a normal competition, but then something happened. I don't know the details, no one seems to know except these two, but one day it got really cold in between them. There was a rumor that it was about a certain girl ..."