Leo said that quietly, not as a boast. He meant it the way a person states a fact about the weather—naturally.
Anya held his eyes for a moment. She had been in motorsport for eleven years. She had managed drivers who promised things and delivered partial versions of those things. She had managed drivers who undersold and overdelivered.
She was beginning to understand which category Leo Kaito belonged to.
"Fourteen minutes on the clock," she said. "We want you out in the next three. That puts your flying lap in the Q1 window when the track is at its fastest. The rubber laid down from the early runs will still be clean."
"Understood."
"Also—" she paused. "The broadcast team has you on their feed. Sky Sports has mentioned your name four times in the last eight minutes. There are cameras on the pit wall. If you go P1 in Q1—"
"When," Leo said.
Anya stopped.
"When," she repeated. The word landed differently than she expected.
She nodded once and turned back to the pit wall.
---
