Page 111 of Hot Lap
Sometimes he misses the days when the only thing that could ruin his weekend was a mechanical failure.
Reece grabs a team cap and heads downstairs to the Nitro business suite. The room’s windows are tinted, the air is cool, and the tension is palpable when he enters.
Coy stands at the far end in front of a screen, arms crossed, waiting. The first thing he says gives Reece all the reassurance he needs.
“Is Maiken alright?”
Reece is as honest as he’s ever been with his team principal. “She feels hunted and betrayed.”
Coy nods. “I’m not surprised. This is the worst hatchet job I’ve ever seen done to one of the F1 wives. Not even Kelley got this kind of treatment, Reece. I’m both sorry and bloody enraged by it.”
Kelley Hayter-Morrison, Coy’s ex-wife and Petra’s mother, left father and daughter for a team owner with deeper pockets. It was a cruel betrayal when Pet was only six years old, but the media and the teams treated the entire affair with kid gloves, respecting the privacy of those involved.
How the world has changed. Now, everyone and their grandmother thinks they have the right to sniff the drivers’ dirty laundry and hang it out for all to see.
“Thanks, Coy. I appreciate your support.” Reece sits at the long table and shoves up his sleeves. Someone’s put out bottles of still water; they may be here for a while. Claudia taps away at her tablet, expression unreadable, which tells him just how angry she is too.
The Zoom interface flashes to life on the wall-mounted screen. Zain and Isabella Nedry appear, framed by tasteful art and a panoramic view of the Seattle skyline behind them. They look well-rested, expensive, and serious.
Zain speaks first. “Coy. Reece. Claudia. Thank you for making the time to speak with us on short notice.”
“Of course,” Coy replies. “We’re assuming this isn’t a casual check-in.”
Isabella leans forward. “We’ve had three sponsors reach out with concerns. We’re also aware of the viral footage.”
Reece’s jaw tightens, but he keeps his voice level. "Right, that footage is complete bollocks. Edited to create a narrative that bears no resemblance to what actually happened."
Zain doesn’t blink. “We believe you, but the court of public opinion outpaces facts. What we need is strategy and control of the narrative.”
Claudia jumps in. “I’m preparing a statement and Branca Flores has legal counsel pursuing a cease and desist. We also have people reaching out to everyone who attended the sponsor party to find witnesses.”
Isabella’s gaze lands on Reece. “Maiken Pritchard has become a flashpoint. Some sponsors see her as a disruption. Others see her as a potential branding asset. Everything depends on how this is handled.”
Reece scowls. “She’s not an asset or a liability. She’s my wife.”
Zain nods slowly. “We understand that. We also understand what comes with that role, on and off the track.”
Reece doesn’t back down. “Look, I need to be crystal clear about something. Mai's not going anywhere. That's not negotiable.” He’s not sending her back to Vegas. He’s not letting Junior get away with making her the villain in his shitty self-indulgent fantasy. If they choose that bastard’s lies over his wife’s truth, then they can find another driver to play their game.
Coy clears his throat. “We’ve got a solid media team. And Petra’s throwing her weight behind Maiken online. She called out the media herself this morning.” He glances at Reece. “And Nico Belmonte’s weighed in on this, reminding everyone that Junior Betterton has a tarnished reputation. That buys us goodwill.”
Nico stepped in?That surprises Reece. Not because Nico isn’t a solid guy, but because there are non-disclosure agreements and the Bettertons own his contract.
“We’ll take all the goodwill we can get,” Claudia adds. “This video is polarizing, but we can shape the story.”
Isabella exchanges a look with Zain. “Do what you need to do. We’ll trust your judgment. Just remember, this is a team sport, and teams don’t survive when they’re divided.”
Zain adds, “Which, I’m sorry to say, Reece, your father damn well knows.”
Reece nods. He hears exactly what Zain didn’t say aloud. That Graham is a partial owner of a competing team. If Nitro cracks under pressure, whether from inside or out, WolfBett Racing benefits.
The call ends.
Reece cracks open his water bottle and takes a sip. It tastes like nothing. He’s not sure how he feels, except that his jaw aches from clenching it.
Coy claps a hand on his shoulder. “You did fine. You always do.”
Claudia looks up from her screen. “Branca’s lining up allies, Reece. You’ve got Petra, the other wives, the Belmontes, and half the online fanbase already. Just hold steady. We’ll weather it.”
