Page 26 of Hot Lap
"We did. Best thing that came out of it." Coy's expression turns wistful. "Doesn't mean it didn't hurt like hell when she left us both. Petra was only six, but not too young to feel the sting."
Reece nods, understanding the weight of this personal disclosure. Coy rarely speaks about Kelley Hayter-Morrison, who'd abandoned their family for a team owner and a lifestyle that didn't include a child or driver who might shunt into a wall at any moment.
"The difference between your situation and mine is Kelley wanted what she thought I could give her — glamour, access to richer opportunities, a lazy lifestyle. From what you've told us, Maiken didn't even know who you were."
"She didn't." Reece shakes his head. "Still barely does, I think."
"That's something, at least." Coy takes a sip of his scotch. "A foundation built on who you are, not what you do and what you can give her."
“That’s what made her different.” Reece grins. “Among other things.”
"Learn when to push and when to coast, Reece. Know when the other person needs to take the lead." Coy's brows arch. "And never, ever forget that apologies work better with flowers."
Reece chuckles. "Noted."
Coy nods and sips more scotch. "I've told PR to prepare a statement acknowledging the marriage but requesting privacy. Nothing more until we've had time to meet her and assess the situation." He leans forward. "Whatever happened in Vegas — whether it was impulse or intuition — I trust your judgment.You're not just a driver; you're a cornerstone of this team. We have your back."
The words settle the tension Reece has been carrying since he got that first warning text from Ona this morning. "Even when I make spectacular mistakes?"
"Especially then. The best drivers know that sometimes you have to take risks to win."
"Is that what this is? A win?"
Coy shrugs. "Too early to tell. However, anyone who can break through that armor of yours is someone I look forward to meeting."
"Are you two having a moment?" Behind them, Petra stirs and stretches. "I can take pictures if you want something for the Christmas card."
Coy smirks. "Go back to sleep, demon child."
"Can't. Too excited to meet my new bestie. Does she know what she's gotten into yet?"
Reece winces. "Working on that part."
"Mm. Good luck." Petra yawns. "Dad, when you're done with the heart-to-heart, I want to talk tire strategy."
"Always tires with you." Coy’s pride in his daughter is obvious. He turns back to Reece. "Are we good?"
Reece nods. "We're good. Thanks, Coy. Really appreciate the support here. It means a lot."
Nitro’s TP waves this away, and Reece stands, feeling lighter than he has since Maiken slammed the hotel room door.
Whatever happens next, he's not facing it alone. Now he just needs to convincehis wifeof the same.
CHAPTER SIX
QATAR GRAND PRIX | TUESDAY
Hamad International Airport in Doha,Qatar, is a gleaming monument to wealth and modernity — all soaring ceilings, sleek lines, and high-end retailers like Fendi and Tiffany.
I stumble off the plane, disoriented after twenty-three hours of travel, unsure what day or time it is and barely remembering my own name. First class was lovely, I'll give them that. I've never had a seat that turned into a bed before, or been handed hot towels by flight attendants who somehow make "Would you care for another glass of champagne, Mrs. Pritchard?" sound like they're conferring a royal title.
Mrs. Pritchard. Right. That's who I am now, apparently.
Figuring I probably needed to know some shit before we landed, I’d researched F1 a little on board the long flight and learned a race weekend spans four days:
Thursday is media and sponsor day where the teams and drivers do tons of PR. During Friday and Saturday the drivers have three Free Practice sessions on track — FP1, FP2, and FP3 — as well as qualifying sessions — aka qualies. Then Sunday israce day. Every hour of it is brutal — physically and mentally — in the race to acquire the most points for drivers and teams in the Drivers’ and Constructors’ championships.
That was all fine and dandy, but when I got up the nerve to researchmy husband, shit went south real fast.
