Page 23 of Hot Lap
Despite everything — the hangover, Graham's scene, Maiken fleeing — Reece smiles. "She's real. Funny, and smart as hell. She talks to me like a person, not like 'Reece Pritchard, Formula 1 champion.' She didn't even know who I was." That fact alone had been like taking a full breath after a lifetime of thin air.
"Marry her immediately." Cin smacks her seat arm. "Oh wait, you already did."
Reece ignores the jab. "She's a classically trained ballet dancer who teaches dance to kids and adults. Her stage name is Mai-Lan Rouge, but she's actually Maiken Lange."
"Maiken? As in yourwife, Maiken Pritchard?" Petra's glee is barely contained, her brown eyes bright with the same spark they get before qualies. "Bold brand alignment, teammate. I approve."
Maiken Pritchard.The name hits Reece like a physical force. He hadn't even thought about that part.
"You're so screwed." Ona’s voice has softened. She hands him a bottle of water. "Though I suppose there are worse things than marrying someone who sees you for who you are."
He brushes the bruise on his forehead. "Graham called her a whore."
The cabin goes silent. Even Coy looks up from his tablet and his expression is hard. He’s never pretended to have anything but contempt for Reece’s father.
"Hewhat?" Petra's voice has that dangerous edge he knows well.
"Stormed into my room this morning. Said some really ugly shit. Mai left before I could explain." He stares down at the green dregs in his glass. "Branca got her out from the paparazzi siege at her apartment, but now she thinks—" He stops and exhales hard.
"Thinks what?" Ona touches the back of his hand.
"That I used her to humiliate Graham. That this whole thing was some kind of revenge play." He runs his thumb over the black face of his phone, obscuring his own reflection as he remembers Maiken’s angry words. "She thinks she's just a prop in Pritchard family drama."
Cin leans toward him. “Is she?"
"No!" The word explodes from him. "God, no. That wasn't… Look, when we were together, it was just us."
"Just you and your dick, you mean?" Petra holds up a hand when Ona glares at her. "Sorry. Low-hanging fruit."
Reece ignores that. "Graham was never part of the equation. I wasn’t thinking about that tosser at all last night, and that’s kind of the point. Maiken and I didn't even sleep together. I mean, physically, yes, we crashed out in the same room, but not like that. Nothing happened."
All three women stare at him, eyes wide, surprise obvious.
"You got married without even...?" Cin trails off, clearly recalculating everything she thought she knew about the situation.
Reece nods. "We talked for hours. About everything. Racing, life, family — you name it. I don't remember the last time I laughed that much. It was just—" He gestures, searching for precision. "That connection with her felt more proper than anything has in years. Immediate and authentic, no question."
A beat of silence follows.
"Wow." Petra’s expression has softened. "That's actually kind of sweet, Reece. In a completely insane way."
"She's flying to Qatar now?" Ona taps the water bottle, a reminder for him to drink.
"Yeah. She and Branca left a few hours after us." He downs more water.
"She's actually joining you for the weekend?" There's surprise in Cin's voice. "Even though she thinks this is all some twisted game?"
"She said she'd 'play her part.'" Reece's shoulders sag. "I don't think she believes anything I said was honest."
Ona grips his wrist and squeezes gently. "Then you'll just have to convince her it was."
"How? She won't even talk to me. Just these texts." He gestures toward his phone.
Petra leans forward. "Look, Reece. I've known you since I was fourteen. You're many things — stubborn, occasionally self-destructive, pathologically punctual?—"
"Thanks for that," he mutters.
"—but you're not manipulative. Not like Graham." She shares a look with her father across the cabin, who nods almost imperceptibly. "If you really care about her, you need to show her who you actually are, not who she thinks you might be."
