I stood at the window of Pierce Motors prepared to talk with my cousin when I glanced
and saw the cars drafting around the track. I saw number twenty-five almost spin out of control,
but he recovered the wheel in time.
I walked into Jackson’s office with Essence behind me as support. I wasn’t leaving
without an answer today and now that the news got out with photos of me in Vegas, I needed to
make my case for why I deserved a spot as a driver.
“Hi, cousin,” I said, walking forward. I wore my best suit and had my hair freshly braided
up in case I got to do a few laps. Jackson glared, put the newspaper down on his desk, and tapped
his finger on the call button. I was already imagining the attitude I’d end up dealing with, but I
tried to avoid him until it was necessary.
“I w
