Osborn was dragged to the racetrack for onest test, with Victoria refusing to let him finish until he''d run nearly 112ps.
"Vicky, I swear, I''d be nothing without you. You''ve stuck with me till the end—”
Victoria sidestepped Osborn''s earnest gaze, whether deliberately or not. "I''m your team''s mechanic, Osborn. Even if you didn''t ask, I''d be here with you till the finish line."
She barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes at him.
Osborn popped a piece of candy into his mouth and crunched down on it, thoughtful. "I can''t figure out who that racer is the one who keeps beating my time by a solid minute. I haven''t heard of anyone like that in the circuittely."
He''d run into this mystery driver several times now, even when he''d booked the whole track for solo practice. The only teams out there were his and the unknown challenger''s.
"Guess it''s true—-there''s always someone younger and fastering up the ranks. No one can stay at the top forever."
Osborn seemed born to race. He''d loved cars since he was a kid, and as he got older, he racked up international trophies left and right-winning eight out of every ten races. He''d be a legend, the kind nobody thought could be dethroned.
He''d already decided: after this race, he''d retire for good and settle down to take over the rk family business.
Victory seemed a sure thing-until this mysterious rival showed up out of nowhere, with no background anyone could trace.
"What''s their name?" Victoria asked, curiosity piqued.
"Vivian. The name sounds weirdly familiar," Osborn replied.
Victoria nearly smacked him, thinking he was pulling her leg. "Did you say Vivian?"
That was the name she''d used abroad-the same alias she''d raced under, though she hadn''t touched a car in ages.
Osborn stared at her, then smacked his own forehead. "Wait, isn''t that your name?"
Victoria looked at him, lost in hisints, and suddenly remembered someone else-Violet.
Violet had managed to get race tickets for everyone at thepany, and she''d even said she''d bepeting that day herself.
"Was the racer who smoked you a man or a woman?" Victoria asked.
Osborn lookedpletely confused, as if the idea had never urred to him. "Besides you, I''ve never seen a woman on this track. Unless that was you out there the other day."
But both of them knew that was impossible.
Victoria''s yful teasing faded, and she spoke quietly. "No. There''s someone else who could do it."
"Then it has to be you. How about a race?" Osborn challenged.
"Don''t joke," Victoria started. "I haven''t raced in "
Before she could finish, someone handed her a full set of racing gear and a helmet. Victoria stared at the suit-it looked awfully familiar.
"Your racing suit. You walked away without a word, left everything behind to get married. Do you know how many hearts you broke? You might not care, but I couldn''t let it go. I kept it safe for you all this time. Now, it''s finally back where it belongs."
Victoria had thought her old gear was long gone. She never imagined Osborn had kept it for her.
Seeing her hesitate, Osborn''s eyes grew serious. "This is myst shot at this. Please give me this one thing."
There was no hidden meaning in his words, at least none Victoria could hear. She simply ran her hands over the suit she''d worn for years, unable to let go.
When Victoria finally suited up and slid into the car, even Lyndon and the others stared in open disbelief.
"Is the boss really racing?" ter gaped at Victoria in her old suit. Lyndon didn''t take his eyes off the track, shoving ter off his shoulder. "Quiet. Just watch."
Victoria settled behind the wheel, adrenaline surging as the engine roared to life. Memories shed through her mind like a movie-years ago, she''d raced side by side with Osborn on this very track. When the g dropped, both carsunched forward, engines screaming.
Lyndon and the crew watched everyp, expecting Osborn and Victoria to be neck-and-neck as always. But by the twentiethp, Victoria swung into the curve, overtook Osborn, and pulled ahead by half ap-leaving everyone speechless.