Niki’s pov: The engines thrum rings in my ears long feet after I get off the track. I’ve stumbled out of my car, taken my helmet off and I shake my sweat hair, exhausted. I feel faint, like I might pass out, so I lean heavily on my Ferraris backseat door, with my head tipped back, throat exposed. Someone walks into the garage, shuts the door and clears their throat. I assume it’s Clarence, my manager, but when I open my eyes, it an unfamiliar pretty girl. I straighten and put my helmet down.