Phaedra came over to stay with me there last night, both of us falling asleep on the L-shaped sofa after way too many snacks and multiple hours ofLove Island UK. With the pretense of asking “in a general sense” about Emerald, I slyly extracted some info about Klaus.
Trivia tidbits: He owns a flat in Copenhagen and a cottage in Santorini, but spends very little time at either during racing season; he loves animals and wishes he had dogs and cats, but travels too much for that; he has a weakness for wristwatches, shoes, and stupidly expensive sunglasses, but also a rule that for every “self-indulgent” purchase, he sends the same amount to a charity.
He looks natural with his rapt little charges as I covertly watch him from across the garage. I wonder if he has siblings or if he’s an only child like me. He seems like the type who might be the responsible eldest brother.
As he turns his attention to a mechanic who’s come up to talk to him, a little boy—maybe seven years old—sidles up to the stool where the blond girl sits. He reaches up for the headset she’s wearing, and when she leans away to avoid his grasping hands, he takestwo fistfuls of her shirt and angrily tries to pull her off her high perch.
Anticipating an injury on the workshop’s concrete floor, I dash their way, flinging one arm up with an intake of breath to shout at the little aggressor. Before I make it halfway, Klaus swivels around and takes the matter in hand with perfect ease. My steps slow, and I watch the scene unfold.
Klaus tends to the upset little girl, talking to her earnestly, turned away from the other child.Okay, smart, I think.I like how he’s checking on her first, rather than rewarding the bully with immediate attention…
Then, dropping to one knee on the floor, Klaus addresses the boy, whose chest heaves with thwarted aggression, eyes shining with tears of frustration.
“But… it ismy turn,” the boy says indignantly, his voice cracking. “It’s not fair!”
After a pause, Klaus tells the boy, “Show me your hands.”
The boy tentatively complies.
Gently cradling the boy’s hands, Klaus says, “There are so many things you can do with these. Think of it—you can make art, play music, build things, write a story. Our hands are powerful tools. Of all the things we make with them, fear and hurt must not be included. Never use these to express anger.”
A wave of emotion shifts in my chest with a feeling like one of those liquid-filled chocolate cherries cracking—sweet and slow and just a little messy.
“Now,” Klaus goes on, his tone lighter, instinctively lifting the mood for both children. “Denis, what would you like to ask Crina—after you apologize?”
With a private smile, I watch them as I wander over to the group one slow step at a time as Klaus mediates a truce. Soon the little girl has taken on a teaching role with her would-be bully, caught up in explaining the headset’s functions.
With a subtle double take, Klaus notes my approach and offers a tired smile. “Talia, welcome. Are you enjoying yourself? How are the accommodations?”
“The suite is fantastic. Thank you again for inviting me.” I tip a sideways nod at Crina and Denis. “I think my favorite part has been that. You’re really good with kids.”
One corner of those tempting lips rises. “Conflict negotiation is a large part of my job.” He leans closer as if divulging a secret. “The battles between Phaedra and Cosmin have been far more challenging to referee.”
I give a soft laugh, and as Klaus straightens, I catch the faint wake of his cologne, which makes my pulse jump.
“And children are just people,” he adds.
It’s so much like what I said to Phae minutes ago that a warm echo resounds through me. When Klaus adjusts the strap of his watch, I can’t help stealing a peek at his hands—large and strong, but with a tender skill I remember vividly.
Feeling sheepish for the way my mind creeps toward memories of the night we met, I mentally shake myself, and with a wholesome smile, look over at the two children again. They’re chattering in Romanian, sharing with perfect cooperation as if Klaus’s words have been a magic spell. “Well, your conflict negotiation appears to be top-notch, so it’ll probably work on Phae and Cosmin too. Just look at these two.”
Klaus follows my gaze to the now-peaceful kids. “I only reminded them of something they already knew: People think what they want most is to have their will, to triumph in life’s every small battle, but… what we truly desire is connection.”
I tip my head, studying Klaus. “That’s a funny thing for the boss of a racing team to say. I’d have assumed you think winning is everything.”
His impossibly dark eyes return to mine. “As Emerald’s team principal, I agree. But as a man, kleine Hexe, I want what everyone does.”
5
SHANGHAI, CHINA
TWO WEEKS LATER
NATALIA
When I first met Phaedra in college—I was twenty and she was eighteen—I didn’t like her. I thought she was mean. A poorly socialized, tutor-educated rich kid who didn’t understand how friendship worked. She was what might diplomatically be called “challenging.”
I spotted her diamond-in-the-rough charm and refused to give up, and once she let her guard down, we became inseparable. Fourteen years later, I’m still not only her best friend but also one of the few people who understand her.
