Chapter 40 The Racers

“We understand, Madonna.” Harry saves me the pain of having to spell it out in front of my parents.

I slide forward in the chair and pick the phone up again. Taking it off speaker, I hold it to my ear. “I’m sorry about the sponsors.”

“Sponsors are like skittish kittens. They thrive on threatening to pull out their money. It’s their way of feeling like they have control of the situation,” Harry says with conviction set in his tone. “Unfortunately, I need to go and deal with this mess.” He pauses, and for some reason, it concerns me.

“Hello?” I say, making sure they’re still there.

“Madonna,” he says, “you need to keep your distance from Marco and the races in general until this settles down.”

I’m being grounded? Well, this is humiliating. I dip my head and rub my temple that’s starting to throb. I gather the strength anyway and ask on an exhale, “Are you asking me?”

“No.” The answer is blunt, though I know it wasn’t said maliciously.

Why does it feel like I just had the rug pulled out