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FourtyTwo
wintersoldier
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Lunamaria Hawke
Eventua
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Video Call: Bea Ward and Paul Mulder
Paul had been thinking about this since the race in Cape Town. Bea was robbed of points in that race by Hart. Paul had watched the video of the race several times. He paid attention to the mistakes he made and the crash. He wanted to know what Bea and Kais might have been able to do to prevent the crash. He also tried to understand what Hart’s motivations were with his move. He still felt that Hart’s actions were not “skilled” and more “thug on the track”. He knew she raced for a competitor but he wanted to reach out as a fellow racer. He wanted her to know he supported as a friendly competitor. Paul was also curious. He had friends and socialized but he had always been Audrick Mulder’s son. He had learned to always hold back and be cautious even as he could blend into any crowd. He never really felt as if he was just one of the guys hanging out. He was always wondering whether they were hanging out with him for their benefit. He finally had an opportunity to meet people who truly didn’t care who he was. They were just as famous if not more famous than he was. He wanted to get to know his fellow rookies better. He had to give Hyeon-Ae credit for planting that seed when she issued her invitation to host them all in Tokyo.He was looking forward to that party. He thought he could start with Bea though since her interest in art gave him a reason to contact her.
Paul had grown up in a world of privilege and wealth. His mother was arguably more famous than his father. His mother Alicia Mulder traveled the world as a photographer. Her work was popular with the fashion industry but she also did nature photography for a variety of conservation groups and charities. His mother used money from his father to start the Mulder Foundation, a charity to honor his father. The Foundation gives out scholarships to help poor children get into sports and support their training. She also had a branch that supported children and the arts. She believed that art was important to the education of children. Her foundation provided art supplies to youth arts programs all over Europe. Paul had seen the charity art auction that Bea had done with Amy Stirling. He wanted to do something nice for his mother now that they were on better terms. He knew her work with the arts community was important to her. He wanted to put his efforts into supporting something important to her. He could throw money at it sure but he felt this would be better. It would raise awareness for the mission of the Mulder Foundation and the work they do and bring in money for them.
Paul’s agent had managed to get Bea's contact information. He waited as the holographic arrow spun in a circle as the ring tone indicated that the connection was trying to be established. Paul was sitting at a desk in the small office area in his apartment at Valkyrie headquarters. The sleek black and chrome desk and chair were typical for Valkyrie AGR. He had hung a colorful photo on the wall behind the desk. It was one of his mother’s photos that she had taken early in her career. It was a landscape of a tropical rainforest bursting with colors. It had been part of a campaign to show the restorative efforts in Brazil. His mother had managed to capture the light as it refracted through raindrops on some of the leaves. It was spectacular and looked edited but it wasn’t. His mother had been patient and skilled and with a touch of luck captured a natural wonder of nature in the photo. The picture always gave him a sense of hope knowing all the damage that had been done to the area. Researchers and conservationists had worked hard to restore the area.
Paul’s hand tapped idly on the desk. Finally the call connected. Paul smiled into the camera. His voice eager and excited.
Paul: “Hello Bea. Thank you for taking my call.”
Bea could hardly call that a weekend to forget. Even if the track suited the Carrera Condor ship well, she still more than kept pace with her teammate and - in large part due to the hit being hard enough to stun her for a bit - she managed to not say anything that would start any fires poor Flávia would have to put out in the wake of the crash. Still, it made her look forward to spending Tuesday evening with her sister and parents even more after spending the Monday after the race debriefing first with Alistair, then with the team department heads, then being required to sit in on the meeting of the principal, the team’s financial department and sponsor representatives just in case they wanted to ask the pilots something. They didn’t. Time well spent. Arriving earlier than initially planned, the family were eight rounds deep in a game of Canasta when the tones of James Paget’s ‘Boundless Adventure’ coming from Bea’s phone heralded an incoming call. ”Skip my turns, I’ll be right back.” She excused herself, answering the call.
”Hi, Paul. How’s your day?” She smiled back as she left the living room and made her way through a modern, lavishly-furnished mansion, dressed in a plain navy blue turtleneck and jeans. ”Pete said you wanted to talk about something but - Hi, Wit,” She greeted someone in a chef’s coat she passed in the hallway, a baritone “Good afternoon, Ms. Ward.” Answering. Those familiar with Bea’s work might have recognized a few of the paintings hanging on the walls before she turned into a guest room and got comfortable in a large office chair, the call switching from her phone to her laptop. ”But he didn’t say what. So, what’s on your mind?” She almost added something about Valkyrie perhaps wanting to join the Carrera Condor equipment donation club, but despite suspicions nobody could prove that.
Paul: “My day started quite some time ago here in Germany. I am sure you know that Physio stops for none of us. I apologize for not giving him any details. I needed to see if you might be interested before I could work out the details. I saw the piece you did for the charity with Amy Stirling. I wanted to know if you might be interested in doing something for the charity my mother started after my father died, The Mulder Foundation.Are you familiar with it?”
”Yeah, it doesn’t. Getting prosthetics was a stroke of accidental genius. No more leg day, no more arm day.” Bea grinned. ”I think I read something last Christmas. Art supplies for children from poor families, was it?” She searched her memory.
”What do you have in mind? Similar deal as with Amy?” She leaned forward, more attentive now, and opened a notepad on her phone to take notes. Probably actually vastly different, but not in any way anyone who wasn’t from Silver Apex or Carrera Condor would know. ”Timetable might be a bit tighter, I’m leaving for Argentina on Saturday. Have a little bit of good will to make up.” She chuckled.
Paul: “Well the Mulder Foundation has two primary missions. The first one is to support children who want to pursue a career as an athlete but lack the resources to do so. The foundation provides equipment and scholarships to support them while they are training. That kind of thing. The other branch supports the arts. Yes they provide art supplies to children’s arts programs so that all children can explore their talents and imagination. It is my mother’s passion and brain child. I wanted to do something to support her foundation as a gift. I thought some kind of charity event to raise money and awareness of the Foundation would be better than me just throwing money at it. Are you familiar with who my mother is?”
”I can’t say I am, sorry.” She shook her head, photography being a completely foreign subject to her.
Paul smiled as he chuckled slightly at himself. It was always a pleasant experience when he ran into someone who was not familiar with his family. It always managed to humble him and remind him the world did not indeed focus on him and him alone.
Paul: “Well my mother is Alicia Mulder. I am sure you have at least probably heard her name around the paddock and circuit. My mother is a photographer. She is very well connected and active in European Art Circles. She is a world renowned photographer though. She does a lot of work in fashion and for various conservation groups.”
Paul waited a minute to give Bea a chance to think that over a little. He gave Bea an inquisitive look.
Paul: “Let me ask you this Bea. What do you want for your art? Where do you see it going?”
”...fashion, conservation groups…” she muttered to herself as she took notes, ”Don’t ask me, this is for your mum. What works best for her, that’s what we’ll do.
Nature is easy enough, we could do what we did with Amy, pick one or more specific projects she’s working on and focus on those environments.
Fashion…” She looked at the ceiling in thought, ”I don’t think I’ve ever done anything with that. Paintings of clothes doesn’t sound like the way to go, maybe we could get some plain clothes, something with a large enough area like shirts or coats and paint something on those. Or we could combine both and do nature images on outdoor clothing, something like that?” She started brainstorming.
Paul smiled as he listened to Bea’s thought process. He let her ramble a bit as she brainstormed her ideas before he shared his idea.
Paul: “I was thinking something a little different but utilizing your talents and star power by adding it to my own. I was thinking you could work on a special art piece that would be reproduced and printed onto a limited number of t-shirts and prints that would be signed. The t-shirt design you come up with would be sold online to the masses and the money made would go to The Mulder Foundation with a 10 percent commission fee coming back to you. The limited signed high quality prints will be auctioned off at a Charity Gala we attend. Half the money from the prints would go back to the Mulder Foundation and the other would go back to you. There would be the additional publicity from the event and media hype that goes with these kinds of things of course. Not to mention the Charity Gala would have you rubbing elbows with the whos who of art in Europe.”
More nodding, more notes. ”Okay, that means digital art. That makes it easier, actually, no other medium has an undo function. Leaves more time to make more, either to have some options or more variety. Good thing either you thought this out or at least one of us is capable of more organized thought.” Being asked about the process behind the things she made was a semi-regular occasion as new people joined the community, and they continually overestimated the method behind her madness.
”What’s our timetable for this? You said this was for a gift, I’m assuming your mum’s birthday?”
Paul:”Well this is obviously going to take some time to organize and publicize. I was thinking we scheduled it for summer break? If you want to do it sooner, it would have to be in between races. Which means tighter schedules for both of us.”
”I can get my parts done between races. I’ll admit I know little about organizing something like this, that is my sister’s wheelhouse, but as far as the gala itself goes I think after the break would work best.” She shared her screen in the call, displaying the week right after the summer break with the Belgian AGP, immediately followed by the German AGP the next week. ”We can do it after the race at Spa, since I intend to stay longer and go straight to Germany from there, and I have something planned for the summer break that will leave me unable to do much for three-ish weeks.” She explained her reasoning.
Paul just laughed a little. He had grown up watching his mother organize these things with her staff. Most people didn’t know it took months to plan, organize, and publicize this kind of event. Some fundraising events took a year to plan and a small army of helpers. Paul could turn that part of the work over to the Foundation’s staff.
Paul: “That timeframe works well for me. The event will take place in Brussels where the Foundation is headquartered.The Foundation’s staff will take care of the logistics and the lead on the Gala and publicity. Feel free to share any ideas, concerns, or thoughts with them though. They do this kind of work all the time. It is how the Foundation maintains its funding. It was started with an endowment but money goes out and money must come in too. That means fundraising. If you are interested, I will have my lawyers and agent begin drawing up the contracts for you. I didn’t want to put them through all that work if you were not interested. So Bea, are you interested?”
”Of course, wouldn’t have been brainstorming otherwise!” She quickly agreed, ”I’ll keep you updated on the designs as they come.”
Paul looked very pleased with himself. He focused on surprising his mother with this project for her birthday.
Paul: “Great I will get the ball rolling then. Thank you for agreeing to work with me on this Bea. Do you have any concerns?”
”Not right now, I’ll let you know if I think of anything.” She shook her head. She’d think about the offered reward later. She always saw racing and the associated merch as a source of income, and it was a good one - worth millions at 20 for crying out loud - so half of the auction proceeds seemed a bit too much for what was being asked of her. She didn’t even monetize any of her other content. Not that she didn’t like money, but it almost felt like stealing.
Paul wondered what was going through Bea’s head. He had grown up around contracts, endorsements, and charity work. His mother’s work included dealing with contracts as well. A lot of celebrities are paid to put their name behind a charity. Many do it to help their public image. Some do it as a passion project, like his mother. He understood that he was engaging Bea in this work and the offer had to give her something in return. He felt the offer was generous but not unheard of. You could speculate what a charity fundraiser like this would bring in but you could never be sure. It was a gamble, a risk but Paul was good at managing this kind of risk. He knew it would be successful. Was he cocky or arrogant, nah just confident.
Paul clapped his hands together with a smile. “Great! Tell Pete to be expecting the contract to come in next week. I will let you get back to what you were doing. It’s a pleasure working with you Bea. I am glad you are okay. I will see you at the next race! I plan to be in front of you this time!”
Paul laughed as he teased Bea. Of course he wanted to be competitive and win just like all of them. He was glad that he could be a friendly competitor. He was a good sportsman. Besides it was no fun for him, if everyone was not giving their best.
”I hope you like our livery, because you’ll be seeing it a lot ahead of you.” She shot back immediately with a smile of her own. ”Loser buys drinks at Han’s shindig?” She offered a friendly bet.
Paul’s smile turned slightly wicked as he enjoyed their verbal sparring. He winked at her before playfully lobbing back. “Well you do make that livery look fantastic! … But it is not my color.” He laughed as she threw the friendly side bet out there. “Well what if it is an open bar? I am happy to take your bet though.” He tilted his head to one side in thought.
”It’s every color.” She deadpanned back. It was an unpopular opinion, but the Carrera Condor livery seemed confused to her even if she understood why it was what it was.
Paul winked at her response with devilment in his eyes. “Exactly!” He paused in thought. “How about the loser has to do a social media post wearing the other team’s shirt announcing they lost the bet.”
She nodded agreement at Paul’s point regarding the livery. ”If it’s an open bar we might have bigger problems than who lost the bet.” She mumbled half to herself, ”You’re on.” Whoever was in charge of the Valkyrie AGR color scheme knew what they were doing, at least it wasn’t something one would have to be ashamed of being seen in.
Paul smiled and chuckled a little as he overheard her comment about the bar. It gave him a mental image of how all the drivers might be when drunk and he couldn’t help but throw his head back and laugh. “Can you imagine if Kais opened up and actually said more than two words and Han let her hair down and did something like dance on the table?” He was laughing so hard he was almost crying. He finally managed to contain his mirth. “Bet accepted. What is your t-shirt size so I can have one ready?”
”Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’m surprised enough Han was the first to come up with that. I guess now I know why the German AGP doesn’t take place around Oktoberfest though.” The mental images Paul was suggesting were well and truly cursed, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t at all curious about the other drivers’ hidden depths. ”And if Nora’s hosting in Australia, oh my. I thought I had enough reasons to look forward to that race before.”
Paul's smile was friendly as he snickered. “Well the Germans do like their beer. Our engineering team has their own motto now “Libation Lubrication!” They even got a drink named after them. I assume you are hoping for a beach BBQ in the land down under?” Paul was having the best time teasing Bea. It made him curious to know what some of the other drivers were like behind closed doors. He gave Bea a nod, “I am still waiting on your t-shirt size. Mine is large or 52. I don’t want you to think I would welch on a bet after all.”
”I heard something about that. Sounds like the season’s start wasn’t as tumultuous as some made it out to be if the backbone of the team is getting drunk enough to become part of the folklore.” She laughed, news reports and social media gossip not always kind to the beginnings of Alex Knight’s tenure as team principal, ”UK size ten, prefer short sleeves.” She grabbed a piece of paper from a drawer and made a point of writing ‘Large/52’ on it in big letters so he could see, ”I’ll be magnanimous and allow a choice between team and my merch if you want to avoid the rainbow.”
Paul looked amused. “More like part of local culture. His first day in the office was…” Paul thought about a diplomatic way to state everything Alexander had endured on his first day. Paul had been visiting his mother and had missed the drama. It was all anyone was talking about when he finally made his way into headquarters later that week though. “Alexander’s first day was, shall we say, dramatic.” Paul smiled at her. “If I have to wear your rainbow, you will have to earn it. If I lose the bet, only the rainbow will do. I have my own code of honor, you know.”
”Message received, shutting up now.” She said when she saw Paul’s reaction to the mention of the team drama, quickly turning back to the previous page. ”Your funeral, at least of your fashion sense.” She shrugged, inwardly wondering if there wasn’t some clause in her contract against talking smack about the team’s colors.
Paul was enjoying this but the reminder of his next training session beeped on his watch. He sighed, so much for having a great time. It was time for his afternoon simulator session. He needed to wrap this up.
Paul: “Sadly I have to go. Simulator training up next. I look forward to seeing you in Tokyo. Have a great break Bea. I will start working on the contract.” Paul waved as he disconnected the call.
”I’ll try to get some drafts to you before the weekend. Have a good one. She added a few notes to the shirt size note with a devilish grin, closed the laptop and returned to the family game.