Making Maranello

I leaned back in the chair as Jean Todt pushed the plans towards me. “Vat are ve to do Smizz?” Making a spire of my fingers, I looked at the ornate ceiling, reflecting on my rise from the gutter to a top secret position advising the head of the Ferrari team. 1999 was a good year. Todt cleared his throat, impatient. I met his gaze. “Make the wing bigger Jean. Who’s going to notice?”