Chapter 32 #2
Game on, mi corazón.
The post-practice interview with Graham’s media team goes better than expected.
They mostly stick to racing questions, though there are plenty of double entendres.
There are no direct accusations, but plenty of implications about team loyalty and championship pressures.
Nico ignores any question that isn’t about racing.
Afterward, he heads for the hotel restaurant and dinner with Petra. She’s already claimed the best table when he arrives, looking relaxed in pink sweatpants, a vintage Ayrton Senna tee shirt, and a leather jacket, her hair loose and sexy and held away from her face with her amber-tinted aviators.
“Survive the interview?” she asks as he sits.
“Surprisingly. ‘No comment’ sounds much better when wrapped in technical jargon about brake temperatures.”
She laughs. “That’s a nice way of telling Pippa to fuck off.”
“This is cozy.” Reece appears, Maiken at his side. “Mind if we interrupt?”
“Please.” Petra grins as Mai takes the seat beside her. “Thanks again for the fashion intervention. You’re a genius.”
“I know.” Maiken’s stunning smile lights up her face. “I’m always happy to play glam squad. It’s even more fun when it’s not for me.” She arches a brow at Nico. “I hope you appreciated the effort, Nico.”
Reece snorts.
Maiken’s from Las Vegas and has all the boldness Nico expects from an American born, raised, and still working in Sin City. She’s the exact opposite of her grounded husband.
Nico dips his chin. “Muchísimas gracias.”
Reece’s gaze snaps to the host stand, and Nico sees what he’s looking at. Wyn’s there, looking around like he’s a bit lost.
Nico slips from the table and strides over. “Sit with us.”
Wyn looks past his shoulder. “I don’t think I’m welcome.”
“Shut the fuck up and eat with us.” Nico returns to the table, leaving the decision to follow up to Wyn.
He does, choosing the seat furthest from Petra, but the tension between them is almost painful.
She studies him through narrowed eyes as she pours bottled water into her glass. She picks it up, then looks past it directly at him. “How’s the nose?”
Maiken snorts and Reece’s brows arch.
Nico holds his breath. It’s such a Petra thing to do, charge into the lion’s den screaming bloody murder.
Wyn returns her gaze and tilts his head. “Not as bruised as my ego.”
She sips her water, then lowers the glass. “I’m sure both will heal.” She’s as cool at her ice water.
He shrugs. “Eventually.”
Maiken is giving him a look that’s possibly even colder than Petra’s.
Wyn’s gaze slides over to her. “Hey, Mai. Didn’t know you were coming to Mexico.”
“You would if you’d asked Reece.”
Clearly, there’s history between them.
Wyn’s expression shifts from wary to annoyed to wary again. But before he responds to her, Reece intervenes. “Let’s try for a civil dinner. Yeah?”
Wyn sighs and starts to abandon ship, pushing back his chair.
Nico catches his sleeve. “Eat with us, por favor.”
A war plays out on his face, but he makes a decision and settles back into his seat.
The waiter’s arrival interrupts the hostilities. They study the menu and order, then turn the conversation to a safe topic, the day’s practice sessions. The food arrives, and just as they start eating, Petra waves her hand.
“Zara! Cin!” They’re waiting for a table. “Get over here!”
“Only if you promise no technical talk.” Cin warns as Zara snags two chairs from an unoccupied table. “I’ve had enough of FIA investigators sniffing around and putting me under a microscope.”
“They questioned you too?” Wyn asks.
“Everyone with team connections.” Zara eyes him and seems supremely unimpressed.
“Everyone? Why?” Wyn’s a smart guy in the car, but sometimes a bit slow off the line outside the cockpit.
Zara arches a fine dark brow at him. “Some of us actually understand the tech they’re digging into, Pritchard.” Her New York bluntness is on full display.
Petra hides a smile behind her water glass as Wyn blinks, clearly unused to being dismissed so casually. He’s getting it from all the ladies tonight.
Maiken leans forward. “Has anyone cross-referenced other fan photos with garage access times? Like, analyzed the data?”
“Yup.” Zara’s laptop appears as if conjured. “I started a spreadsheet last night.”
“Of course you did, strategy nerd.” Wyn actually sounds impressed, and Nico’s surprised that he knows Zara’s a strategist. The guy generally doesn’t pay attention to anyone outside of WolfBett Racing and specifically his own crew.
“I like to use my brain for more than hitting walls.” Her fingers are flying over the keys.
Maiken presses her lips together, obviously swallowing a laugh, then she makes a little hiccupping noise after Reece pokes her under the table.
Wyn turns toward her. “You choking?”
She takes a huge gulp of her water, then gasps, “I’m fine. Wrong pipe.”
Meanwhile, Cin’s eyeing our dinners with professional scrutiny. “Nice protein balance, Petra. Nico, good choice with the complex carbs. Reece... surprisingly adequate.”
“High praise.” Reece grins.
“Where’s Ona?” Petra asks. Ona Kenyatta is Reece’s physio.
“Nairobi. She always goes home to celebrate Mashujaa Day with her family.”
Maiken rests her head on her husband’s shoulder. “That’s why I’m here. Moral support.”
Reece smirks. “What would I do without you, honeybee?”
“Lose,” Petra replies and they all laugh.
Jacintha points at Wyn’s glass. “Why are you drinking milk at dinner?”
“Because he’s a great big baby,” Reece replies. “Always has been. Remember when you cried because I wouldn’t let you re-pass after an overtake?”
“That was one time!” Wyn protests. “And I was six. You took my—”
“Teddy bear?” Zara suggests without looking up from her screen.
“Pacifier,” Maiken stage-whispers.
The brothers’ shit talk makes Nico miss Nia. She’d be right in the mix if she was there. Giving him hell.
“Huh.” Zara’s head cocks as she considers her screen. “That’s interesting.”
Wyn leans closer to look at her screen, then jerks back when she raises an eyebrow at him. “Care to share?” he asks.
She sighs and angles her computer so he can see what’s caught her attention. “Fine.”
“Right then.” Cin stands, eyeing empty plates and checking her watch. “Early start tomorrow. Petra, you need sleep.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“This was nice.” Maiken takes Reece’s extended hand and rises gracefully. “We should do it again in Vegas.”
“And watch Graham spontaneously combust when he sees us all getting along,” Reece adds.
As they cross the dining room, Petra murmurs, “Those two have an interesting dynamic.” She means Wyn and Zara, who remain huddled over her laptop, heads bent close. “He could use someone unimpressed by his track record. Restore a little humility to the wanker.”
“Ten quid says she’ll kill him and hide his body in the stairwell,” Jacintha says and Petra laughs.