Page 134 of Overtake
“Petra! Petra!” The chorus of my name comes from all directions.
Flashes pop like strobe lights. The crowd is nearly suffocating as they press closer.
Why aren’t you fuckers in the media center?
“How does it feel to be vindicated after the blackmail scheme was exposed?”
I keep my head down and push forward, my hand on Rodrigo’s back. He’s shoving through the mass, but it’s slow going.
“Petra! Did you know about Graham Pritchard being blackmailed before it was revealed?”
Christ almighty.
“Were you ever suspicious that someone was targeting Graham?”
“How did you maintain focus while under scrutiny?”
Rodrigo’s apparently done with this madness. “Stand back, all of you.” Beefy arms swinging, he bulldozes a path through the crowd as two more blokes from Nitro’s security team join us.
When we finally reach it, the media center is beyond packed and buzzes with tension.
“This explains the mob in the paddock,” Cin mutters.
Marcus Wolfberg, Richard, Dad, and other team principals occupy designated seats on the raised platform at the front of the room. Nico is there and stands as I cross toward him. He pulls out a chair between Dad and him. I sit and face the assembled journalists. The usual suspects are all here—Floor Talk, MotoMouth, Paddock Access, surprisingly—cameras ready to capture whatever drama unfolds.
“Ms. Hayter.” The first question flies across the room. “How do you respond to the allegations that you were the source of the data leaks, now that you’ve been exonerated?”
“Let’s address that.” Nico doesn’t give me a chance to even inhale. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him sound so completely enraged. “Why was Petra the only driver accused of espionage in the press? Why wasn’t I questioned about compromising team data?”
The room gets surprisingly quiet.
“The timing of the leaks—” someone starts.
“Coincided with the revelation of our relationship,” he continues. “Yet only one of us had our integrity questioned. Why?”
“Mr. Belmonte?—”
“I’ll answer for you. Because it’s easier to accuse the woman. Easier to dismiss her, to undermine her, to decide she’s not as capable as the men in this room. Easier to assume she can only succeed by stealing information, by sleeping with a man, by being anything other than the best fucking driver on any track on any day.”
Christ. Go on, Nico.
He thumps the table with his fist. “Ask any man who’s competed with her and he will agree with me.”
Silence continues. He’s stunned the hell out of all them. Nico Belmonte, the respectful, even-keel champion is onfire. I wish I had some popcorn because this is fucking entertaining.
He leans forward. “I’m so damned tired of this pattern. You don’t ask her about strategy or tire management after she wins a Grand Prix. You ask her about hair care and makeup products. You question her technical knowledge while assuming mine.”
I study Nico’s profile as he continues addressing the press, calling out examples of biased coverage. His jaw is set with righteous anger, his usual diplomatic mask is completely forgotten in defense ofme.
Bloody hell he’s hot when he’s angry.
“When was the last time you asked a male driver when he’ll give up F1 to start a family? Or whether emotions affect his driving?” He shakes his head. “Petra Hayter has won five Grand Prix. Set three new track recordsthis season. She’s earned every single point with skill and grit. But instead of asking about brake temperatures and tire strategies, you want to know if she’s bothered by sweating in her race suit?”
The guilty shuffling among the gathered journalists speaks volumes.
“She’s a professional athlete,” he continues. “A champion demonstrating peak performance. She earned her place in that cockpit just like every other driver. In fact, she worked harder. You know why? Because the teams questioned a woman’s ability to drive an F1 car. They questioned her strength, her determination, her endurance, and her intellect. It’s fucking ridiculous, all of this. And it’s time she’s shown the same respect that’s given to the male drivers. Because if you don’t, thenallthe drivers will stop giving you the soundbites, interviews, and photos you need to stay alive.”
Reece and Wyn and Dad start clapping, Richard joins in and so do other principals and drivers, but Nico shakes his head.
