A SECOND CHANCE MAY BE TOO HOT TO HANDLE
They say there are no second chances, and for Lily Onassis, ever since she walked away from Formula World driver Max Becker, she's considered this true. Instead of a glitzy, glamorous life on the auto racing...
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Procrastibaking is the art of delicious distraction. Since I lost my job a month ago, I've become an expert.
I've used baking — something I was never much into before — as an avoidance tactic. A way to deflect from the fact I was fired. A vehicle to avoid looking for a new job. A break from real life.
And today, the afternoon of the Florida Grand Prix race, my newfound baking habit is serving as a stress release of sorts. I'm channeling my inner Martha Stewart and making double chocolate chunk cookies.
I tune the small TV monitor in the kitchen to the race and line up my ingredients. Flour, sugar, butter, eggs. I'd even found some gourmet, fair trade chocolate chips at a health food store. Like there's anything healthy about these things.
As the television blares with pre-race interviews, I plop the stick of butter in a bowl and dump a cup of sugar on top.
Dad's at the race, probably pacing in the garage. Ready to give his team a rousing, inspiring and legendarily gruff-yet-loving pep talk. There's no way he'll mingle with the crowd, so there's little chance I'll see him chatting with the Sky Sports announcer, who's roaming the track for his infamous interviews with celebs on live TV.
Grid Walk with Gordon, the segment's called. It's been on for years. Viewers love it, and watching it makes me grin, thinking how Dad's always loathed the cheesiness of Gordon's questions.
"Oh, there's Savannah Jenkins-Annunziata, the owner of Jenkins-Annunziata racing. Savvy? Savvy?"
I look up, straightening the glasses on my nose to watch. Her team is one of my father's main competitors.
"How are you feeling about today's race? It's the first Formula World in Miami, so it's quite historic. Your hair looks marvelous, by the way."
Of course Gordon would comment on her flowing red mane. "Do you compliment all the team owners' hair?" Savannah says in a flat tone.
I bark a laugh. Savannah's a friend. We're both about the same age but took vastly different life paths. She embraced the Formula World life, married a driver, became a team owner. I was once my father's intern in hopes of following him into the family business, but then I ran from the sport and pursued a safer path: business school and a job at an auto racing game developer.
It all worked out so perfectly, until it didn't. Maybe real-life racing would've been a more secure path, ironically.
I know Savannah well enough to detect she's worried about today's race. That little furrow in her brow tells me everything and am sure she's also annoyed with Gordon and his sexist questions. Plus, it's June, which means it's hotter than Hades and all of Florida today. Savannah's face has bypassed dewy and is well on its way to a full-blown sweat.
