Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Dad waits until we’re airborne before speaking. He’s taken me to sit at the back of the jet, away from the rest of the management team. “So.”
“So?” I try for innocent, but we both know better.
“Should I start planning for a wedding?”
“Dad, honestly. We just shagged, and yeah it was spectacular but I think marriage jokes are very premature. I have no idea where this is going.”
His amusement slips and intensity replaces it. “Just handle his heart with kid gloves, Pet. Yeah? He’s been good to you for a long time.”
That sets off alarm bells. If Nico Belmonte pulled strings to help me somehow rather than letting me get my seat on my merits, I’ll fucking kill him. “You mean with my career?”
“No. The only thing Nico’s done with regards to your trajectory is challenged you to be a better driver on the track.”
“Ooo-kay, then what? What aren’t you saying, Dad?”
He looks out the window, jaw working as he thinks.
Finally, he meets my gaze. “That period in F4, when you were struggling?” He means when I was anorexic and bulimic.
I nod. “Nico saw it before I did. He told Carlos you were throwing out your lunches or throwing them up if you were afraid you wouldn’t make your weight.
And that you were exercising too much. Carlos told me. ”
My jaw drops. “Oh my God. Nico?” I nod. It makes sense. “I always wondered what made you suddenly see what I was hiding.”
Dad looks profoundly guilty. It’s an expression I haven’t seen since we did family counseling, when I was recovering from that madness.
“That boy has always cared for you, Pet.” He leans forward to cover my hand with his and his demeanor shifts again.
“You know what’s coming.” He’s not judging, just concerned.
I can tell by the tone of his voice. Plus the fact that he gave Nico my room number, so this is partially his fault.
“The media, the speculation, the extra pressure. And that’s without considering your mother’s contributions. ”
“I can ignore Kelley.”
“I know you can.” He squeezes my hand. “Just don’t lose focus. They’ll be watching even closer now. Looking for any sign that this affects you on track.”
Me. Not Nico. Because they’re always looking for the woman to crack. Nothing would delight Graham Pritchard more than to catch me slipping. That would make for spectacular TV.
“It won’t, Dad.”
“I know that too.” His smile is gentle. “But they’ll look anyway and try to create drama where there isn’t any. Every racing incident will be proof your feelings affect your judgment.”
“Yeah, well, they can fuck right off.”
Dad chuckles. “Yes, they can.”
I must doze off shortly after, because the next thing I know we’re landing in Mexico City. My phone buzzes with accumulated messages.
Cin writes:
Since I couldn’t ask at brekkie—DETAILS. NOW. And don’t pretend you’re sleeping because your biometrics say otherwise.
I scroll through the rest of the notifications once we’re off the plane and in an SUV heading for the track. I nearly chuck up in my mouth when I spot Kelley’s social media post.
So happy my baby girl has found someone worthy! I’ve always encouraged her to follow her heart!
But the last text is from Nico and makes me smile.
Dinner tonight? Very intimate—you+me+a large security detail. I want to show you my favorite place in la Ciudad de México.
My heart goes all warm and mushy. A proper date. Like normal people who aren’t being dissected by media and fans. I don’t remember the last time I had one
Well, as normal as we can get in Mexico City, because F1 teams have been robbed at gunpoint going between the track and the hotel. We can’t travel without extra armed security. That’ll put a crimp in our dating style.
Another notification pops up. Kelley’s given an “exclusive” interview about how she “always knew” Nico would be perfect for her daughter.
Vile.
Cin texts.
Saw Kelley’s latest. Want me to accidentally spill something on her at the track? I’m thinking hot coffee.
Save it for if she crashes our date tonight.
DATE??? Details woman!
Before I can reply we park at Autódromo Hermanos Rodríguez. Bowie catches up with me as I’m heading for Nitro hospitality. “Team meeting in five minutes.” He waves vaguely at my face. “Try to look less obviously thinking about sex.”
“I’m not—”
“You’re grinning at your phone like a teenager.” But he’s smiling too. “Just keep the heart eyes out of engineering briefings for Asuka’s sake.”
I snort and reply to Nico:
Yes to dinner.
Then I follow Bowie.
The team’s already assembled when we reach the conference room. Engineers and strategists huddle over data while Dad reviews everything with Asuka.
“Right.” Bowie clears his throat. “Firstly, let’s ignore the eight hundred pound elephant in the room because it’s none of our business and irrelevant to our business.”
Several engineers hide smiles. Zara suddenly becomes very interested in her screen.
Dad raps his knuckles on the table. “Let me remind you that all of you signed a non-disclosure agreement, which also covers the private lives of team personnel. None of you will discuss Petra’s or Reece’s personal lives with the media or other teams. None of you. Not a single word.”
It’s a rare edict from Dad and it lands like said elephant, solid and unquestionable. The message is clear: overstep and you will be bounced from PNW Nitro.
Asuka takes over the meeting. “About Mexico City’s altitude challenges. The thinner air will affect downforce. We’ve adjusted the rear wing profile to compensate, but...” She pauses, eyeing the team. “Anyone giggling about rear ends gets laps around the track.”
She means it. I should know. I’ve run on her command more than once.
“The suspension modifications from Austin proved interesting,” Zara adds, all business despite her smirk. “We’ve incorporated some of those lessons into—”
My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Nico.
Dress casual. Unless u want the media madness that u looking hot AF will cause.
“Petra?” Dad’s arched brows are a warning. “With us?”
“Always.” I slip the phone away, catching Reece’s knowing smirk. “Suspension modifications. Go on.”
“As I was saying...” Zara pulls up new diagrams. “The differential settings showed promise, even under extreme conditions.”
The meeting continues, all professional focus and race preparation. If anyone notices me checking my phone, they’re kind enough not to mention it.
Well, almost everyone.
“Hot date tonight?” Reece whispers during a technical discussion.
“Team meeting,” I remind him primly.
“Right. That’s why you’re grinning at your phone like—”
“Laps,” Asuka announces without looking up. “Both of you. After this.”
Reece and I exchange a look, and I know he’s thinking the same thing I am.
Busted.
I love an empty track, so Asuka’s punishment isn’t quite as awful as she’d like to think. Our footfalls echo off empty grandstands as we round turn 1, our pace slow. Mexico City’s altitude is over 7,000 feet, so even a light jog feels like proper exertion.
“So.” Reece’s breathing is slightly labored. “You and El Conejo.”
“Old news. Let’s discuss you and your brother, instead. What’s going on there?”
“Deflect much?” We take turn 2 at barely more than a walk. “Wyn’s trying, for once. Not just repeating what Graham says.”
“Must be complicated. Having a brother, I mean.” We pause at turn 4, both feeling the altitude’s effects. “It’s always been me and Dad and racing. No siblings to compete with or support.”
“Or have your father pit you against?” His laugh is humorless. “Trust me, being an only child has its perks.”
“Yeah, but...” I take a deep breath, the thin air makes even talking more effort. “You had someone who understood the pressure and expectations.”
“And who was actively trying to beat me to earn Dad’s approval.”
“Sure but also someone who knows exactly what it’s like being Graham Pritchard’s son.”
Reece is quiet as we continue jogging.
“You know what’s weird?” He wipes sweat from his forehead. “Watching you and Nico with your fathers. They just let you be who you are and let you figure shit out for yourselves. Fuck, I envy that support.”
“Can we walk this bit?” The altitude’s no joke, and I didn’t get adequate sleep last night. “And yeah, I know what you mean about the support thing. I know I’m lucky. Think Nico knows it too.”
“Though your mother’s making up for Coy’s lack of drama.” He matches my slower pace. “Catch her latest interview?”
“Avoiding it like a case of the clap.” We pause, both breathing harder than this light exercise should warrant. “She’s probably writing her mother-of-the-bride speech already.”
“While Graham’s plotting ways to use it against both teams.” Reece takes a long drink from his water bottle. “You know he’s just waiting for you to slip, right?”
“Yeah. But honestly? After dealing with Kelley’s drama all my life, Graham’s just Tuesday.”
“Try living with it.”
“That’s what I mean though.” We start walking again, neither bothering to pretend we’re still jogging. “At least you had Wyn. Someone to share the crazy with.”
“When we weren’t trying to kill each other on track, you mean?”
“Better than Kelley’s occasional ‘maternal concern’ shit. Would be bloody useful to have a sister or brother to share the load. I don’t like dumping it on Dad. He has enough guilt where The Incubator is concerned.”
Reece studies me for a moment. “For what it’s worth, you’re not flying solo, TenP. The team’s a stubborn lot when it comes to looking after our own.”
I blame the altitude for the sudden tightness in my chest. “Reece—”
“Just saying.” He bumps my shoulder. “Some of us actually like having you around. Even when you’re making eyes at rival drivers.”
“I do not.”
“Please.” He snorts, then puts his fingers up behind his head like rabbit ears. “You two are worse than those romance novels Maiken reads. All lingering looks and tension and—”
“Pretty sure those novels don’t include comparing qualifying data.”
“No, but they have scenes about checking each other’s rear ends.”
“That’s it.” I pick up the pace despite my burning lungs. “You’re doing the rest of this lap alone.”
“I have no regrets!” His laughter echoes across the empty track.
I flip him off.
“Pet?”
I turn around and jog backwards. “Yeah?”
“I’m glad you’ve got this. All of it. Even the complicated parts.”
I smile. “Thanks, Reece.”