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Sarah nods, and I talk. Whatever it is, now is not the time for us to discuss it. If the news impeded our plans, she’d signal it. “My contract ends this season. My original negotiation plan was to discuss an ownership stake between me andBP Racing.”
Bert leans back and gives me a contemplative frown. “You were interested in ownership.”
“Obviously, no longer.BP Racingwon’t exist after this year,” I point out. “That doesn’t mean something else can’t emerge.”
Bert’s frown sharpens, but his eyes signal interest. Sarah’s subtle nod tells me to keep going. According to her, she might know numbers, but I’m the one who can pull at his heartstrings. We’re about to find out how true her statement is.
“I know other racing teams are begging for the charters available for sale. I also know you have enough sway to decide where they go.”
“And how many do you want?” Bert leans forward and rests his chin in the palm of his hand. He’s enjoying this.
“We only need one, and to be clear, I’m not asking you to arrange this for me, Bert. I’m asking you to join me.” I suck in a breath because this is the big one. First, you toss out the bait. “You don’t want to retire, and I don’t want that for you either, not until you’re ready. I started my career with you, and it worked out damned well for us both. You were there after my dad died, and you helped my family when we needed it. Let’s do it again.”
Bert is silent. His head drops to hide his features, but it doesn’t work for his rapidly blinking eyes.
Wanting to respect his dignity, I go on. “We’d be small in the beginning, but in another year or two, we’d be in a good place to expand. I can drive, and you know everything about running a garage and managing a crew. Let’s start again.”
I end with that phrase a second time in case he missed it.
“I have a few questions,” Bert says. The red flush stays in his neck, so we won’t get loud bluster or anger. “You’re Boone Rivers’ younger sister, aren’t you? If I’m not mistaken, you work for him.”
He guessed she was part of the plot. I wonder what else he’sputting together.
“You’re correct about the first part,” Sarah says with a glance at me. “For the second, not anymore. I’m technically unemployed.”
That explains her odd smile after arriving. I support her if she leaves because it’s what she wants. It’s also very possible Boone forced her out because of our relationship. If that’s the case, I should appreciate that she picked me, but I can only think that Sarah should have never needed to do so.
“Then your professional relationship withRivers Motorsportsis severed,” Bert says, wanting to ensure he understands correctly. “I assume you’ll be a part of our arrangement.”
“I can’t drive a car or work in a garage like either of you,” Sarah says, referring to my earlier statement. “However, I’ve been in this industry my entire life and have worked in it all my professional life. I’ve done almost every other job we need.”
Sarah pulls out her presentation, a printed copy of the same slides we’ve looked at together many times before. “This is for you. I can email you later so you can spend any time looking it over. It’s a two-year projection of our financials. We break even the first two years and then work on reinvesting and expansion.”
“Who’s this third person donating?” Bert’s use of the word “donate” makes clear he knows the return on this effort may not happen for a long time—if ever.
“Me,” Sarah says. “I believe in this, and I believe in Jake.”
“We can use the charter’s value as collateral to finance a bank loan,” I say, wanting to show how we can find the needed capital. “I’m signing the loan.”
Sarah and I already decided not to take a salary in the beginning. We can live off any winnings or unexpected sponsor dollars. So far, all my sponsors have promised tostay with me wherever I end up. That covers most of our operations.
“This isn’t without risk,” Sarah says, giving me another glance. I’m starting to dread them. “The longer we delay, the more likely Jake’s team will break up. They’re looking for jobs and will take them if we don’t offer an alternative.” She swallows. “I learned earlier today thatRivers Motorsportshired Derek Barnes, starting at the beginning of next season. He accepted their offer.”
I knew it was coming. Derek wanted the job but cared enough to let me down slowly. In retrospect, I’d have preferred the immediate gunshot to the head instead of this. “He is one of the best spotters out there; this isn’t a surprise,” I say.
“Ms. Rivers here is correct,” Bert says with a polite nod toward Sarah. “Everything will be sold, down to the last office chair and manila file folder. The bleeding will only get worse.”
Job guarantees and sponsor assurances for the rest of the 24 team will solve most of the problem, but it won’t give me my spotter back.
Is that true, though? The man sitting across from me comes with decades of experience. He’s managed garages, and he’s spotted. Moreover, our relationship has gone back years, and I trust him. Who better to do it? “What about you?” I ask Bert. “Mike, the pit chief, will stay on. I’d almost guarantee it, plus we have months to resolve other staffing issues. You did it for me years ago, when I first started out, right?”
“How long might you need me for?” Bert loudly asks.
That’s a hopeful sign.
“I plan to keep talking you out of retirement,” I say because it’s true. “As long as I can.”
Bert’s expression softens, and I know he agrees.
