Page 61 of Narrow Margins
As soon as Simmons leaves, I try Corrie again, it rings this time but he doesn’t pick up so I don’t bother leaving a message. When I walk out in my leathers, I spy Callie leaning against a side wall with her cellphone in her hand and a petulant look on her face. I think her father may have had a talk with her. Striding over to the mechanics, I listen to their instructions and try to ignore the cameras again, then I’m off.
Like the time with Corrie at the race track, I take my time for the first lap then, gradually, increase my speed as I build up the laps. The bike is good and reacts well to my movements but I don’t feel as connected to it as I did with the Ducati. Spotting the mech hanging a lap speed banner at me, it’s fast but I reckon I can do better. Opening the throttle, I pick up speed and feel the bike really responding to me. But it’s not enough to really light the fire in my belly, another, much more valid, reason to not join this team. I slow down and bring the bike into the pits. Weaving back through the group of hangers-on, I enter the garage.
Bill Simmons stands with a smile on his face that falters when he sees the look on my face as I take off my helmet. Recognizing my less than fervent expression, he walks over.
“Shall we go and talk, Griff?” He looks at me disappointedly but remains professional.
“Let me get changed first.” That really seals it for him, he knows that, if I was on board, I wouldn’t be getting out of my leathers.
I walk out of the changing room and find Bill waiting for me. Smiling, he extends his arm in invitation for me to go ahead, I see an open door on my right so I head down the corridor. When I enter the room, Bill closes the door behind us.
“I take it from the look on your face, Griff, that you don’t think you’ll be joining my team. What is it that has you making that decision?” Bill sits in a large leather chair behind a desk.
“You’re right, sir; I don’t think this is the team for me. The bike is good, I mean really good, but I just didn’t feel the gel that I have had on other bikes. I think the setup you have here is excellent, and your mechs really know what they are doing, but it doesn’t feel right to me. I’m sorry.” I have taken the seat opposite him and try to keep my face neutral.
“Does my daughter’s behavior have any bearing on your decision?” His eyes narrow as he reads my immediate tension as my body stiffens.
“I’d like to keep her actions out of my decision, sir. I’m sorry if my answer disappoints you.” Again, I keep my face expressionless.
“She was that bad, was she? It’s okay, son, I don’t expect you to answer that. I appreciate your honesty and your discretion. I will have my driver take you back to your hotel. Thank you for coming along and showing us just how good that bike is; no one else has got the timings out of it that you did. I can at least set a benchmark for my future riders to aim for.”
Bill stands up and reaches out his hand again. I shake it, relieved I can get out of here and back home. “Just one more question, if I may be so bold. Were the pictures of you with the young man real?”
I smile and feel my face light up at the thought of Corrie. “Yes, sir, they were real; he’s my boyfriend and I love him. We hope to stay private though, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, Griff, good luck for the future. I’m sure we will see each other again soon.” Bill’s smile is genuine.
We walk out together and I head over to make my goodbyes to the mechanics and to thank them for their time. Turning, I spy Bill talking to his driver, Callie fidgets next to him and tries to speak. She sees me and abandons her father, strutting across to me but I carry on past her to the waiting car.
“Griff! Wait! What’s going on? Why are you leaving?” Her piercing voice causes the others to turn and look.
“I’ve spoken to your father, Callie; I’m going to have to leave, I’m needed at home.” I keep my voice low and controlled.
“Oh! I thought that, maybe, you and I could…” Tears form in her eyes and I roll mine.
I cut her off before she embarrasses herself anymore. “Callie, I have a boyfriend. Someone I love very much. There would never have been anything between us. I have to go.”
The drive back is quick and silent. Fiddling with my iPhone, I send a message to Corrie to let him know I’m on my way home. I say a quick thank you to the driver and haul my gear from the trunk then head back into the hotel. Stepping up to reception, I inform them I will be checking out later today.
Once back in my room, I check out flights home: it looks like I’m in luck, there’s one scheduled for this evening. Not quite a red-eye flight, but it will be late when I get back home. Pressing ‘buy’ to confirm the reservation, I add my credit card details and it’s done. Heading back into the bedroom, I pack my clothes and then do the same with my wash gear in the bathroom. Calling down to reception to order something to eat, I book a cab for later.
Treading through the doors and up to my cab, I load my cases and climb into the back seat. I don’t want to think about this wasted weekend, a time when I was needed so much more at home. I wonder if I would have found it a better weekend and had a better connection with the team if Corrie had been with me. Was it really not right for me, just because I was here alone and lonely? I shake my head and let the car take me to the airport and home.
I try Corrie again and still get no answer, I leave another message.
Checking in, I start to relax, thinking only about my man and what I’m going to do to him when I get home. Waiting for my flight to be announced, the butterflies in my stomach build as I get intoxicated at the thought of him back in my arms, and in my body.
Five hours later, I’m on the last leg my journey as the cab drives me home from the airport.
I don’t believe this. I don’t understand what I’m seeing, why is Raff with a woman? Who the fuck is she? My eyes scroll down the screen as I read the comments, Callie Simmons. The daughter of Bill Simmons is in the arms of Griff, is this why he was so keen on this team? Does he know her?
Every thought I’ve had, every feeling, every touch I’ve shared with Griff, is washed away by the sight of him with a beautiful woman hanging onto his arm as she walks into a restaurant, then him shielding her as they climb back into a car. The pictures are of them kissing outside a hotel and then walking in together, did he not see the photographer? I knew I wouldn’t be enough for him, but to dismiss me so callously and so publicly goes against every word he uttered.
I turned my cell phone off last night when the first notification came through; I’ve had Griff’s name on alert since the photos of us kissing were published. It made it easy to see and keep up with the reactions and comments from his peers and the press. But this is beyond anything I thought possible.
Today’s comments are equally as bad. The first looks like it’s from a cellphone, not a professional camera, but shows the same woman leaving Griff’s bedroom with him stood in the doorway! After dealing with the shit from the press yesterday, the constant phone calls from my father’s lawyers, and then my mother called—neither of us knew what to say, I think she was as relieved as me and Raff. I don’t know if she will try to speak to us again and I don’t care. Both Raff and I were exhausted, physically and mentally, by the end of the day, but the statements have been issued to the press and the funeral arrangements are underway. I have no intention of going, so I’m happy to let the legal team take over.
By the afternoon, I’ve had enough, why can’t I just stop looking at the damn internet? The sight of Griff and the girl leaving a car and her smiling happily at the cameras infuriates me. Admittedly, Griff looks grim and not happy at the invasion. I’m pissed that Simmons has got so many press and photographers there; this is not a done deal by any measures. But, maybe, I’m not in the equation anymore and Griff will be courting the press soon enough.