Mike loved racing on Saturdays. After a quick shower and a bite to eat, he drove Laura out to the local track to meet some friends. Cars were another part of the fantasy world that Mike had built for himself. He knew the other racers well, all with comparable levels of wealth and success in their own particular industry. Mike had the advantage of living his career and favourite hobby as one.
The circuit was known as 'The Diamond Ring'. It was an expensive attraction, owned by a former world champion. It was not just the 6.4 mile figure-of-eight track that drew in the customers. There was a luxury bar and diner, with a customizable garage for paint spray and body shop. It was a boy racers' world.
After leaving Laura at the bar with some girlfriends, Mike jumped over the concrete wall that separated the compound from the track. The tarmac was green. Zero grip at such an early stage of the morning. The circuit was only used by those who could afford it, and therefore rarely felt much rubber. There was always the pleasure of some very fast cars however, and many people just turned up to watch.
Mike jogged down to the starting grid, where his own car was stacked up against the four challengers. His on-track rivals were waiting for him. Tommy was the fastest of them all and something of a nemesis for Mike when it came to tackling the circuit. Tommy held the lap record and had an unbelievable car. A Ferrari 7.0 litre turbo charged AF. It was lined up next to Mike's impressive Mercedes SLR.
'Finally' said Tommy, his crisp Hollywood smile eking through. 'You're going down. My car is unbeatable in these conditions'. Tommy was always confident before a race. On this occasion he had every right. Not only was it true that the Ferrari handled better on a low grip surface, he had also beaten Mike on their last encounter.
'I had cake last night' Mike replied casually 'I'm on a sugar high. I don't lose when I have that level of contained energy. Plus, I have a guest to impress'. Mike motioned towards Laura who was sitting up on the terrace with the rest of the fans.
'New girl' said Tommy approvingly. 'Does you're wife still make those little lemony cakes?'
'No. Why do you ask?'
'I didn't think so. Anyway let's race'.
Mike strapped himself in and donned the crash helmet. He then hit the ignition button and felt the chassis vibrate as the Mercedes engine roared into life.