Page 46 of Overtake
“No. It’s not.” I’m pleased with how steady my voice is. “Whatever you’re planning, whatever angle you’re working, I’m not interested, Kelley. I have a race to prepare for.”
“Petra.” Her smile turns sharp. “The cameras caught everything at that bar. Your physicalresponseto criticism. We really must discuss damage control.”
“Damage control?” I laugh. “That’s what you’re calling it? Funny, I don’t remember you being concerned about damage when you left a six-year-old to chase Richard’s money.”
Kili makes a small choking sound. Rodrigo touches my elbow, which is his signal to be ready to move.
Richard steps forward, always the peacemaker, bless the man for his lunacy. “Ladies?—”
“I’ve always had your best interests at heart, Petrina.” Kelley actually believes this shit. “Which is why I’ve already scheduled an interview. We’ll clear the air and show a united front. Mother and daughter discussing the pressures of being female pioneers in motorsports.”
The absolute nerve of this woman.
“No.” I step back. “No interviews. No united front. And stop using Dad’s name. We both know you only trot out ‘Hayter’ when you want something.”
“Really, darling.” Kelley’s smile doesn’t waver, but her eyes go arctic. “There’s no need for dramatics. I’m only trying tohelp your career. After all, what will sponsors think? A Hayter brawling in bars like some common?—”
I raise my hand. “Stop.”
Her gaze jumps to something over my shoulder and I know Dad’s approaching.
I barrel on. “First, I’m a Hayter because of him, not you. Second, my career’s doing just fine without your kind of help. And third...” I smile, matching her arctic for arctic. “When is my birthday?”
She falters, perfectly manicured hand fluttering to her throat. “Pet, you know I’m terrible with dates?—”
“January seventh.” Richard’s quiet voice cuts through her protests. “She turned twenty-six this year, Kel. I sent flowers.”
I shoot him a grateful look. He did, beautiful flowers with a card that managed to be warm without overstepping. Unlike his wife, who’s currently doing mental arithmetic, probably trying to figure out how to spin her way out of this.
“Time flies when you’re setting lap records.” My smile isnotsweet. “Or, you know, abandoning children for richer prospects.”
“Petra.” Dad’s warning is gentle. He doesn’t disapprove of my anger, but he knows how much these encounters cost me. “You’re needed in the garage.”
Rigo grabs my hand, which means he’s concerned about my safety. It’s the only reason he ever touches me, and I’ve learned to pay attention when he does. I glance around and, yeah, we’ve drawn a crowd.
“Right.” Squared shoulders. Lifted chin. “Rich, always good to see you. Kilian, catch me if you can.Kelley, cancel that interview and don’t bother scheduling any more. I’m busy winning races.”
Her face does something complicated. “This isn’t over, Petrina.”
God, I fuckinghatewhen she calls me that.
“It’s been over for twenty years.” I let my bodyguard draw me away.
Rodrigo drops my hand as we put space between me and the media. Dad falls into step beside me, and his silence says more than words. He knows how the carefully constructed walls I’ve built around those old wounds develop hairline cracks every time Kelley rises from the grave of my childhood.
He finally speaks when we reach the rear of the team building. “Are you okay?”
Rigo’s stopped at a distance, giving us space.
“Fine.” The word comes out too sharp. I try again. “I’m fine. Just... why now?” I glance back, running a hand through my hair. I’m cognizant of all the media and visitors in the paddock, but I can’t quite contain this level of irritation. “Why does she always?—”
“Show up when you’re about to achieve something significant?”
“Yes, and taint that victory.”
“Because that’s what Kelley does. Uses other people’s success to make herself relevant.” Dad has two decades worth of protective anger.
The truth of what he said hits me hard. Championship contention. First woman with a real shot at the title. Of course Kelley’s here, positioning herself for the narrative.
