The next morning, Coyote had just wrapped up his morning routine—light exercises, brushing his teeth, and taking a bath—when his phone rang. He groaned, already suspecting who it might be.
"This better not be her again or I might definitely get rid of this phone," he muttered under his breath.
Despite blocking Gwen's number, she had somehow found ways to reach him using different lines. It was getting out of hand.
He glanced at the screen and, to his relief, saw Isabella's name. He picked up immediately.
"Hello, Miss Cruz."
Isabella chuckled on the other end, amused that the man who had railed her the day before was still calling her "Miss Cruz." Was he trying to show respect or is he trying to keep a distance between us? It better not be the latter, she thought to herself.
"Hello, Mr. Watkins. I want you to meet me at Hodgson Racetrack this morning."
Coyote furrowed his brows, a bit confused as to why she wanted to meet at that particular location. Hodgson Racetrack was one of the most popular racetrack in the country, some high-profile motorsport events are held there, and it houses some of the top NASCAR teams.
"Yes, I can be there, but I gotta ask, why am I meeting you there?"
Isabella chuckled again. "Mr. Watkins, you don't expect us to always meet at my suite, do you?"
"No, but it won't be a bad thing, though. I just wanted to know what we are doing at the racetrack to be better prepared," Coyote replied, casually watching birds flutter past his window.
"Well, I want to introduce you to your team today so that we can get the ball rolling," Isabella said, her voice tinged with excitement.
Coyote let out a breath, surprised. "Wow! That was fast. I have a team?!"
"Yes, you do now. Get your ass to Hodgson Racetrack. After meeting your team, there are some paperwork for you to sign," Isabella said before hanging up.
Coyote stood there, giddy with disbelief. He couldn't believe how fast his life was changing. The idea of beating Louie's record didn't feel like a dream anymore, it felt possible.
[And you got me to thank for all that,] the system chimed in with a smug tone.
"Yeah, thank you very much, asshole," Coyote muttered, unable to stop the grin spreading across his face.
—---
—----
Coyote arrived at Hodgson Racetrack that morning, paid the cab driver, and walked through the entrance. The sun was blazing, so he kept it simple—just a light blue T-shirt and a pair of denim jeans.
He'd won a couple of races on this track before, and as he took in the familiar scenery, the memories came rushing back. Nothing much has changed, he thought. A few racetrack workers glanced at him, whispering to each other.
They're probably wondering what the hell I'm doing here, Coyote mused, but he didn't let it bother him. He kept walking, heading toward the section where most NASCAR team offices were located.
Just then, he heard someone call his name. He turned toward the voice and spotted Isabella's chauffeur from the day before. Without hesitation, he walked over.
"Welcome, Mr. Watkins. My boss has been expecting you," the chauffeur said, gesturing toward a yellow portable office structure beside the stands, bearing a large logo: Nakamura Racing. The name rang a bell, but Coyote couldn't quite place it.
He nodded and stepped inside.
The garage space was buzzing with activity—tools, equipment, and a handful of pristine cars, all Chevrolets. The people working in the garage wore matching yellow uniforms branded with Nakamura Racing.
These are probably my new teammates, Coyote thought. He gave them a friendly wave and a smile, but only a few acknowledged him.
The chauffeur nudged him gently. "Mr. Watkins, this way," he said, leading Coyote toward a stairwell.
Coyote climbed the steps and found himself standing in front of a red door. He raised his hand to knock, but paused as he heard voices from inside.
"I don't think there's anyone you can bring in who could beat Valentina Rossi," a woman was saying. "She's a force. No one in the Xfinity Series championship is as good as her. I think we should make her an offer to race for us."
Coyote recognized the name. He'd seen Valentina race before, but he hadn't realized she was that good—at least not the way this woman made her sound.
He was about to knock when Isabella's voice responded, full of confidence: "Oh ye of little faith. The driver I'm bringing will win the Xfinity Series championship again. That, I guarantee you."
That unwavering tone silenced the flicker of doubt Coyote had been carrying.
He knocked just as the other voice interjected, "Again? Wait a minute, what do you mean by again?"
Isabella ignored the question. "Come in, Mr. Watkins."
Coyote stepped into the office, his eyes quickly surveying the room—and the two women in it. Isabella greeted him with a bright, warm expression; her excitement was clear in the glow of her smile. She wore a sleek beige pantsuit, her hair tied in a neat bun, radiating power and elegance.
The other woman, however, possessed a striking presence of a different kind. She was a beautiful Japanese woman, likely in her late twenties, wearing an unzipped yellow windbreaker stamped with the bold Nakamura logo. Her posture was rigid, arms folded across her chest, and her gaze sharp with cool detachment. There was no trace of curiosity or warmth in her expression—only the kind of simmering disdain that made Coyote feel like his very existence was an offense. She didn't need to speak; the chill in her stare said it all.
"So, this is the driver you're talking about?" she said with a scowl. "You do know he has a lot of baggage, and he is a reckless driver who hasn't raced in a year. We might as well not compete if he's going to be our driver."
[This bitch hates your guts like you offended her just by existing.]
"I'm thinking the same thing, Coyote responded to the System. Like, what the fuck crawled up her ass?"
Isabella was about to reply, but Coyote cut in smoothly, "Please, I didn't catch your name, young lady?"
"Because I never gave it," she said coldly.
"Well, could you give it?" he asked, unbothered by her hostility.
The woman paused, clearly sizing him up, then finally said, "My name is Lila Nakamura. And you, Coyote Watkins, won't be a driver on my team."