Page 14 of Full Throttle

“This is her?” Ranya held up a hand. “Wait. Stupid question. There’s just the one female driver at the academy.”

The headmaster grimaced. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Simmons shut the door with a click. Ranya poured a second cup of tea. Even her nails, Juliette observed, were perfect.

“Right,” Ranya said. “Introductions. I’m—”

“I know who you are,” Juliette interrupted, and then wondered if that was rude.

Everyone knew who Ranya Silva was. She was a legendary Sri Lankan driver, the first woman in motorsport to drive a Formula 1 car (albeit for only a few races as a reserve driver in 1997, but even so). Hell, Juliette had a poster up of her in her childhood bedroom. She could recall trying to fight through a crowded pit lane to get Ranya to sign it after the British Grand Prix.

Ranya was also the first female team principal in history. She looked after the Toro Significa F1 team, the feeder team for Taurus. And if Ranya wanted to speak with her…

Juliette’s heart pounded so fast that she felt sick. Don’t get too excited. She might just want to chat.

Too late.

She was definitely going to throw up.

Ranya held out a cup of tea. Juliette took it, settling in a chair.

“I watched your race,” Ranya said. “You’ve got good instincts.”

“Thank you.”

Ranya stretched out one leg. “I’ve tracked your progress through the academy, you know. Very impressive. The most gold ribbons out of everyone in your year.” She took a sip. “Your brother’s a driver too, isn’t he?”

Juliette nodded. “Cap drives for Duro Stallion.”

“Do you come from racing stock?”

Juliette shook her head. “My parents are theater directors. They met staging a production of Romeo and Juliet.”

She watched Ranya put it together: their strange names, the Shakespeare T-shirt that her father was wearing…Even her family dogs were called Hamlet and Ophelia. Further proof, she reflected, that her parents really shouldn’t have the authority to name living creatures.

At least her parents had spared her the indignity of having a brother named Romeo.

Small mercies.

“So you’re a self-starter,” Ranya said. “I like that in a person.” She took another sip. “Shame that Taurus is taking the Von Galen boy on as their second driver. You deserved that place.”

Crushing disappointment filled her, although she should have expected it. There was no way to prove that Frederick messed with her car, which meant that it was her word against his. If she complained, she’d only look bitter.

“Frederick is a good driver. I’m sure he won’t disappoint.”

Ranya’s dark eyes observed her. “You struggled at the end.”

This, Juliette thought, must be how it felt to swallow her pride. Couldn’t say she liked it. “My rear suspension blew.”

“Interesting,” Ranya said. “You look tired. Late night?”

Juliette shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Any reason?”

“Adrenaline. The usual.”

“I see,” Ranya said slowly. “Do you know that we keep cameras in our team garages? There’s a lot of expensive equipment in there. Wouldn’t want anything to get stolen.” Her dark eyes were unreadable. “Our security team told me something interesting. Apparently a driver snuck into the garage yesterday and spent all night fiddling with a car. It looked as if he was sabotaging another pupil.”