"A girl? Martin was surprised. "Why would they fight for a girl when both of them can have any?"
"Who knows, maybe they liked the same one and didn't like the fact that she preferred the other one. I said it was just a rumor. Do you have a girlfriend?"
Martin smiled, thus revealing the whole truth.
"She's pretty?"
He didn't answer right away. She wasn't as captivating as her predecessor, at least not physically, but she had a lovely personality and he really liked being with her.
"Yes," he replied.
"With your looks, you could have any girl. You are very much like your mother, and you know she was a beautiful woman. She is still very attractive, even though she has grown up kids already. After all, the title of the first vice-miss of the country obliges ..."
"She should have won. I've seen tapes of the elections. My mom was prettier than the girl who won."
"But then there was a fashion for blondes."
"You were in love with her?"
"Hmmm… like half the guys in this country all summer. I only met her through your father. She was already his wife then. But you should be careful," Allen laughed. "Once the girls find out that you work in this stable and seeing how pretty you are, you will have a hard time shaking off them."
"I can handle it," he assured him with a smile.
In the last year, when he was recovering from Heather breaking his heart, he could pick girls. Sometimes he allowed himself to go on an one night adventure, but the emotional emptiness of these purely physical experiences did not bring him the pleasure he had hoped for. It was only the acquaintance with Ami that made him feel that he could fall in love again. He wasn't there yet, but he had a good feeling about it.
"Pretty girls are cool," Allen said suddenly philosophically, "but you need more than a pretty face to look at to be happy. That girl of yours ..."
"Ami"
"Ami ... nice name. From the gleam in your eyes, there is more to her than just look."
"There is. She has a warm and cheerful personality."
"So you can call yourself lucky."
Allen was definitely right and Martin felt comfortable talking to him. Maybe it is because, since his father's death, he has become someone who, to some extent, could fill the void in his life. Not entirely obvious, but his advice and opinion really started to count for Martin.
"I hope you will invite me to your wedding."
"Hey, we're not there yet!" Martin objected firmly. "We just started dating. Who at our age thinks about getting married!"
"All right, all right," Allen backed off, laughing.
Martin laughed too. He was really happy at this point in his life. He can't even imagine that something could ever happen to change that.
Two days later, a small sponsor event was held at the stables. The owner invited dozens of personalities from the world and beautiful girls from the front pages of fashion magazines, which were supposed to make everyone's time pleasant with their presence.
Everyone knew that a demonstration of drivers skills would take place. For the older members of the team it was not the first event of this type, so they could clearly see that one of the richer or prettier ladies will hang around the neck of someone important, begging for a small show. Martin, who was on this occasion for the first time, was not at all surprised. Were it not for the fact that he was lucky to be in this fantastic place every day, he would probably also hang on someone's neck to see the exploits of his idol up close.
Though no one from the track attendants had even approached the showrooms, Martin saw visitors drove up in their luxurious cars, wearing sports suits and cocktail dresses more expensive than his six-month salary, and hanging jewels, the price of which he dared not even dare estimate. Compared to them, the two drivers of Fergus' stable did not look bad at all. Jack dressed in white and Steve - all in black - were not so much a contrast to each other as to two separate sides of the same coin. They sparkled in the company like regulars to salons, without even a hint of complexes with all these rich and famous people. And why would they feel any complexes if their names and faces were also among the loudest?
Martin looked at them with only a hint of jealousy. He knew that as a mechanic he would not enter the showrooms, but that was not his goal. He wanted to work at Fergus' stable for as long as possible.
Of course, none of the mechanics were invited to the showrooms. Their place was in the pit, where they would keep both cars on standby in case a track demonstration was needed. From the mansion side they heard only the sounds of a string quartet playing live and from time to time someone's louder laughter.
"I would like to be in such company at least once," Teddy said dreamily as all the mechanics were in stand-by mode.
Martin looked at the crowd of guests enjoying the fresh air. He imagined himself walking among these elegant people, with Ami by his side ... Ami would look lovely, but he would feel rather uncomfortable.
"Eh, what would you do there? What would you talk to them about?"
"Don't you envy them?"
"Envy of what?"
"Money. Fame. Connections. Well, everything that the upper classes possess."
Martin shrugged.
"Maybe it would be nice to have more money, but for now it's enough for me. I have a nice job, an even cooler girl ..."
"Oh yeah, I forgot that I am talking to a guy in love. "
"I'm not in love at all," he assured him excitedly. "We like each other, but it's not love. Not yet." Martin blushed up to the top of his ears, making Teddy laugh enthusiastically.
Teddy has only recently turned thirty and is yet to be married. He said he didn't have time for dates, but he just seemed to love cars more than women.
The owner of the stable appeared first in the stalls. The old gentleman was the last heir of the name Fergus, because the late spouse gave him only daughters. The old millionaire was the face and heart of the enterprise, but his mind was the oldest son-in-law. They were both accompanied by drivers, some elegant ladies, and a man Martin had seen with Steve that day, manager. But apart from that, the boy knew almost nothing about him.
"Who's that guy next to the boss?" Martin asked Allen. "Yes, I know he's a manager, but what are his connections to the stable?"
"He's Fergus' grandson, Karl Walton. Three years ago his father became a director, but he has no heart for car racing, so although Karl is only a manager, he actually does everything. His main activity is finding new talents. He brought Steve here."
"Really?" it was very interesting news.
"Six months, he persuaded the old man to give Steve a chance. Nobody regrets it now. Both are going up, Paxton as driver, Walton as his promoter.
It was interesting. Although Martin was a fan of Paxton, he only knew as much about him as was disclosed to the public. Now he had the opportunity to learn a lot more information from behind the scenes. There was a certain thrill in it, to be in an environment where information is learned from the inside. But it was strange that a brilliant driver like Paxton couldn't find a place for himself in GP2 and Walton had to strive for a chance for him for six months.
Martin however didn't have time to think about it any longer. As expected, a pretty, very young girl, blushing, asked for a display of driver skills. Meanwhile, she was looking at Jack, who gave her a charming smile.
And then it started.
Martin had never assisted in a real race, and although now there was only one driver to be present, the mechanics had to show off their best agility and pace - after all, the watchful eyes of the owner and sponsors were watching them. Martin, who was merely an assistant, had nothing important to do. The well-coordinated team finished the work quickly and when Jack, dressed in overalls, got into the car, they took the heating blankets off the wheels. The car took off.