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Luckily, the room was pretty dark and silent. We’d had to adjust for the fact I was smaller than the last time we’d run the simulation, and I knew I’d have to get back into shape sooner rather than later. My brain was always kind of on the baby, but eventually, I was deep into the drive.
There were differences between open-wheel and stock car racing, obviously. They were a world apart physically, but driving was driving. The fundamentals were the same, but your skills had to be tweaked between the two.
I’d shout stuff at Stephie, and she’d adjust on the fly, which was a testament to her skills more than anything else. Especially since she’d admitted that before starting at VANT Racing, she’d never seen a race car in her life. She didn’t even own a normal car. She rode the bus to work, and didn’t ever want to drive. Said she’d seen the statistics. You were less likely to die on public transport than in a personal vehicle.
The project that Stephie and I were working on would create the standard settings for the vehicles, and then they’d be tweaked to the drivers and engineers. Honestly, it was such an awesome experience, it felt like I was playing instead of working.
As we stopped the simulation, I glanced down at my watch. The room was still silent, even though Bobbi-June was normally awake by now. Panicking slightly, I climbed from the simulator and stopped when I saw Rocco holding her, swaying from side to side, baby-talking to her in Italian.
“My ovaries,” Stephie gasped when she noticed him in the room too.
I frowned at her and stepped toward the large man holding my tiny, cooing baby. He looked up at me with a soft smile. “She was fussing. I think she wanted to get out and see the world,” he said placatingly. “You seemed to be in the zone, and she didn’t seem unhappy with my presence. I should have asked for permission.”
I mean, yeah probably. I was probably a shitty parent for not noticing her fussing. Maybe I shouldn’t be bringing her to work, if I was doing both of my jobs badly.
However, the baby was flailing her tiny arms in Rocco’s direction and seemed perfectly content in the arms of a stranger. “It’s fine. Thank you for holding her.”
He tucked Bobbi-June back to his chest, and Stephie sighed. Yeah, I got it. The normally gruff driver was smiling down at the baby, and if I hadn’t just given birth, I might have become spontaneously pregnant again.
“It’s nothing. She is a good bambolina.” He handed her over to me and turned to Stephie. “I believe we have a meeting?”
Stephie cleared her throat, and I could see the flush of her cheeks even in the almost darkness. “Uh, yeah, we do. Just need to get your measurements for the simulator.”
I clutched Bobbi-June to my chest, where she began to nuzzle hungrily. “I’ll leave you to it.” I placed her back in her stroller, and she started protesting, her tiny wails sounding like a kitten crying more than the caterwauling you’d think of. She really was the best baby.
Rocco looked over at us. “Just feed her here, Stellina. I won’t look.” He lifted his chin at the chair over in the darkened corner, then climbed into the cockpit of the simulator without sparing me another glance.
I looked over at Stephie. She shrugged, as if to say go for it. So I did. I also wanted to watch Rocco in the simulator, if I was honest.
I slipped my arm out of the oversized work shirt that I was wearing. I had a maternity tank on, but I still looked around to make sure everyone was distracted before I pulled out a boob. Bobbi-June latched quickly, and I held her close to my body. Rocco was still figuring out the simulator, pointing out the differences between it and the one he used to use for the Formula One team he drove for.
Stephie was one hundred percent focused as she made calculations to account for his slightly increased body weight, height, and the track he was testing. I knew there were about fifteen other people who worked on the software for this thing, but they lived at the VANT Enterprises offices most of the time.
Finally, Rocco began racing, and it was a thing of beauty. He drove with so much ease, despite the fact that Stephie had set the simulator to provide haptics. It had taken me a while to get used to them today, as we’d kept them to a minimum when I’d been pregnant. If I crashed into the wall, it provided enough physical feedback that your wrists would hurt, as it would if you crashed into a real wall. It was a great motivator to take it seriously. Not that Rocco would know anything about that, because he maneuvered the imaginary vehicle around the track easily.
Bobbi-June finally finished, and I popped her over my shoulder to burp her as I stood, walking over to Stephie. “This part here, the track was made for stock cars. It’s going to drag for IndyCars, so you want to make sure it’s reflected in the sim.”
Stephie made notes as I watched Rocco continue to drive. I couldn’t wait to see him out on an actual track in the prototype car.
I snuck out as quietly as I could, going to find Hayes. As predicted, he was in the garage, tinkering with the nose cone of the car. Seeing us, he laid down his tools and grinned. “My favorite girls.” He dropped a kiss on Bobbi-June’s head and then one on my lips. “Want to have lunch?”
I tucked Bobbi-June back into her stroller. “Well, she just ate, but I’d love to.”
He shouted to Alphonso that he was going to lunch, then threw an arm around my shoulder as we walked toward the big double doors. “How’s the first day back going?”
I shrugged. “Everyone’s been really good about Bobbi-June, but I’m sure eventually the novelty of having a baby in a workplace will wear off.”
“We’ll deal with it when it comes to it. Pretty sure Jesse’s dying to be a stay-at-home dad,” he said with a chuckle.
It was hard to imagine Jesse—tall, tattooed, gruff-looking Jesse—as someone who changed diapers and gave baby bottles, but I’d seen it with my own two eyes. Both he and Hayes had stepped up for me when they didn’t have to, and I could admit to myself that I loved them. It was hard not to when they celebrated every time Bobbi-June burped, like the house was a frat party and she’d won a belching competition. They tried to see who could make her smile first, even though I was ninety percent sure it was a gassy face.
“Hayes?”
“Hmm?” he asked, making faces at the baby as he pushed the stroller.
I pulled him to a stop. “I love you?”
He blinked in my direction. “Was that a question?” he teased.
