Page 48 of Hot Lap
She shrugs. "I deal with all kinds of people at my shows and classes. Reading a room is part of my job."
Bloody hell. Every time he thinks he’s got her sussed, she goes and surprises him again. He shakes his head. "You're seriously impressive, Maiken Lange Pritchard."
The smile she gives him is small and honest, not that flirty smirk from earlier. This is the woman he remembers from Vegas. The one hehadto marry.
Around them, the evening moves on. More sponsors, more introductions. Maiken listens carefully, asks thoughtful questions when needed, and admits to ignorance without any apparent embarrassment. She never tries too hard, never plays a role she doesn't own. She walked in understanding that everyone knows what she does for a living and has certain expectations for her, and she’s subverting them by demonstrating her wit.
Small conversations weave through the room — polite, practiced, all smiles on the surface.
At one point, an exec’s wife, already a little too loose with her champagne, leans close with a syrupy smile. "So Maiken, do you have much experience handling the pressures ofthislifestyle?" Her tone makes it clear she knows the answer and expects Mai to stumble.
Before Reece can react, Gudrun steps in smoothly, her voice dry. "She survived a Vegas wedding and a pack of paparazzi. She’ll survive a few cocktails and photo ops."
The wife laughs it off, tilting back her drink. The moment passes, but the undercurrent remains.
A Telco Italia exec makes a backhanded joke about impulsive Americans, but Lina dispatches it with a razor-sharp smile. "Some risks pay off better than cautious plans."
The man chuckles uncomfortably and retreats. They all fear Lina.
Petra appears beside them. “I’m stealing your partner, Reece Pritchard.” She loops her arm through Maiken’s and steers her into a small group of wives swapping travel nightmares, then tops all them with the story of her F3 race kit going missing.
"I really was one of the lads that day. Had to borrow a racing suit from Lynch. I’m still recovering from the aromatic experience of raw teenage boy essence."
The women howl at that.
Reece stands apart and breathes easy.
The WAGs have closed ranks around his wife. They’re making it clear: Maiken isn’t alone. She belongs, whether the sponsors like it or not.
He's deeply grateful that they're doing the heavy lifting tonight, so he doesn’t have to choose between being the team’s polished representative and being the man who would move heaven and earth to shield his wife.
Maiken catches his eye and smiles.
Maybe this won't be such an uphill battle after all.
Coy grips his shoulder. “She’s holding her own.”
Reece glances at his TP. “I told you there was a reason this happened.”
“Yes, you did.” Coy sips his drink. “Expect it to get harder before it gets easier, Reece.” With a nod, he moves on, leaving behind that nugget of warning, not wisdom.
When dinner is served, Nitro’s event manager directs them to a table near the center of the room. It’s a visible spot but not the focal point, and definitely a calculated choice.
Reece pulls out Maiken’s chair before she can do it herself, steady and easy, like he’s done it a thousand times. She murmurs a quiet thanks, smoothing the skirt of her dress as she sits.
Her gaze flits around the table, quick and careful. She watches Lina unfold her napkin, then places her own in her lap the exact same way. She studies the arrangement of silverware without touching anything yet.
Noticing how she’s taking stock of the situation, it hits Reece hard and sudden —noneof this is second nature to Maiken. She wasn't raised on weekends at country clubs or gala dinners. She didn't grow up knowing which fork is for the salad or when to nod and smile at a sponsor's rubbish joke. She's learned to survive, to adapt, but tonight she's doing it all in real time in a room full of people who were born into this world.
And he threw her straight into the deep end, thinking it would be an leisurely swim.
God, he’s a complete bloody arsehole.
Something twists in his chest, driven by admiration and regret. Graham would’ve torn her apart for the slightest misstep, making her feel small and insignificant. That's how Reece grew up; every dinner was a test, every social interaction a potential minefield. Watching Maiken navigate this unfamiliar terrain with humor and grace reveals the absurdity of it all. The arbitrary rules, the practiced smiles, the polite predators. She's more genuine in this unfamiliar world than most people who've spent lifetimes perfecting their paddock personas.
While he’s been worrying about appearances, she’s been treading water with nothing but grit and instinct keeping her afloat.
Reece straightens his own napkin with slow precision, making sure Maiken can see him out of the corner of her eye. As the first course arrives — some delicate salad with flowers init — he picks up the correct fork without comment, setting the rhythm for her to follow.
