Shut Up and Talk

Chapter 20

I submitted my proposal and it was rejected. Antonio and the Donato lawyers called me in to meet with them. Antonio was hands-on in contract negotiations and I made sure to wear a skirt above the knee. That's how low I'd sunk.

We sat around a huge boardroom table in the team's Rome headquarters. I'd brought along Max for moral support, although he didn't do much. He sat twiddling his thumbs, waiting for the meeting to end. We hashed out the numbers and Donato didn't budge. No surprise.

I was determined to make this deal happen and two weeks later met with the Donato brass one final time. I was bold now and completely nauseous. Ian and I had spent several hours in his penthouse drinking beers and deciding on our course of action. It was time to bring out the Barracuda. The issue was no longer money, but principle. He wanted to show them that he wasn't afraid to take them on and my job was not to look worried.

I stepped into the familiar boardroom and saw the faces of the men that sought to challenge me. I took my seat, knowing we were about to go into battle. On this occasion I didn't have Max at my side. Ian had insisted that Max stay away, finding less important business for him.

"Gentlemen, what have we decided?" I asked with my most confident smile.

Enzo Verti, the chief negotiator, leaned forward over the table and I could feel my stomach churn and knot. His dark menacing eyebrows connected into one when he was displeased. "Your demands are unacceptable."

A surge of blood pumped through my veins. "They're more than fair. I know you have a problem with the passing fee, but if Winters is the driver he claims to be, you won't have to pay it." The passing fee was something Ian and I had come up with during one of our many shared plane rides.

Antonio stared at me with a sly smile. His eyes showed respect, but they didn't reveal anything else.

"What you're proposing could essentially double O'Neill's salary," Verti said.

"Providing he drives better than he did last year."

Verti's expression didn't change. "We can't justify it."

"Then we can take our offer elsewhere. Several teams would love to retain Ian's services and his lucrative sponsorship deals. But of course, that's up to you, gentlemen."

Verti tapped his hairy fingers on the table. "This passing fee; we'll pay half."

"We've already offered to take less on that point, we won't go down any further."

"Then we cut his base salary."

"He'll take no salary, just bonuses if you allow him to race for himself." I made that up on the fly. Ian would kill me later.

"We're prepared to give him a half million less base and accept all other terms."

I was surprised, but not stupid. "We'll agree to three hundred thousand less and one thousand pounds more for every point he scores."

The men consulted for a few minutes. I tried to quell my breakfast burrito which was threatening to exit my mouth. Verti returned his gaze and clasped his hands together, his eyes giving away nothing. "We're going to discuss this further. If you don't hear from us by midnight Friday, O'Neill is free to look for employment elsewhere."

#

Should I have been looking for employment elsewhere? I was petrified. Had I asked for too much? I had three days to make Ian believe that I wasn't concerned. I gave him a glossed over version of the meeting and exuded confidence I didn't have. Whether or not he believed me, I didn't know. As we flew to England for the next race, I spent the flight throwing up into a bag what little I'd managed to eat. As the deadline approached I grew more and more agitated. My mind was a mess of jumbled thoughts and doubts.