ALICE Ch 17

Glynda wears a purple, satin robe. She’s not flashing cleavage or anything, but the garment clings to her figure, accentuating her hips and bust. It’s a lot. Like something out of a James Bond movie.

Alice swallows and approaches hesitantly.

Glynda’s face is locked in a neutral expression that Alice has come to recognize. The team principal is not happy.

“Hi,” Alice says hesitantly.

Glynda takes in Alice in her sleeping clothes.

“Let’s talk,” she says.

Alice isn’t about to argue. She opens the room and Glynda enters. While Alice isn’t the neatest person, she doesn’t have a collection of sex toys strewn about. Her hotel room just looks like a nice hotel room.

Glynda takes a deep breath, possibly for patience, and sits on the edge of the bed. Alice sits nervously beside her.

“Were you in my daughter’s room?” Glynda asks quietly.

“Yeah,” Alice replies. It’s not as though she can lie about it. “I was worried about her.”

Glynda peers at her suspiciously. “And?”

“And?” Alice thinks fast. “And, I think she’s OK. It was a tough race. It wasn’t the finish that she wanted, but she’s calming herself down.”

“Should I look in on her?”

“Uh, I think she’s in a good place and needs her rest,” Alice says.

Glynda considers that, and then twists to look at Alice more directly. Her robe comes open enough to hint at the full majesty of her assets, unconstrained by the tyranny of a bra.

Alice swallows, catches herself, and lifts her gaze to Glynda’s face. She squeezes her legs together self-consciously and thinks about math. Glynda smells like expensive hand lotion.

“And how are you?” Glynda asks.

“Good.” Alice’s voice cracks a little. “I’m happy with it. I’m glad that I didn’t wreck the car.”

“As am I,” Glynda replies, unblinking. “You raced well. You delivered precisely what I needed of you.”

Alice sits stiffly, unsure what to say.

“Now. Is there anything you need?” Glynda asks.

Like… a raise? Or what? Alice doesn’t know the procedure for this conversation. What is she supposed to say?

“I need you to go easy on Faye,” Alice says.

It looks like Glynda wasn’t expecting that.

“F1 is stressful enough without the family flavor,” Alice adds.

Glynda’s eyes narrow. “Drivers need to get results.”

Glynda isn’t trying to kid anyone. The nepotism in play isn’t a secret and it’s not supposed to be. But not just anyone can drive an F1 car and set good times. Faye is not a bad driver.

“Just treat her the same as you treat me,” Alice says tiredly. “That will make it so much less awkward.” She realizes that some of this was lost on Glynda. There’s a hint of defensiveness. Glynda wants to bristle. Whatever she expected when she came to visit, she’s not getting it.

The moment gets longer and longer. It’s the first time that Alice has seen Glynda with her hair down. And possibly her guard down as well. She’s much prettier this way, and so different from her daughter.

“Hmph,” she says, looking vaguely approving. She straightens her back and rises to her feet. “As you wish,” she says without looking back as she heads for the door.