Page 83 of Overtake
“Your public awaits.” Cin nudges me toward a group of especially enthusiastic Honeys. Their squeals when I start signing shirts could drown out a Formula 1 engine.
“This is mad!” I laugh, accepting my own shirt from a beaming fan. The atmosphere is pure joy and support instead of judgment. And it’s infectious.
Claudia watches the fans dancing and singing. “If I’d known it would be this big a frenzy, I would’ve told you to kiss him a long time ago.”
“Pretty sure that wasn’t in my PR strategy.”
“No, but it’s working better than all my planned campaigns.”
A chorus of “Tenacious P! El Conejo!” starts up, accompanied by what sounds suspiciously like the chicken dance mixed with “Crazy in Love.”
F1 fans, I swear.
Graham’sPaddock Accesscamera blokes are there and I figure I can’t escape them, so I stop and smile when Pippa Blackwood shoves a mic in my face.
“Petra, can we discuss the elephant in the paddock?”
I shrug. “You will even if I say no.”
She laughs. “You know me well.”
“Right.”
“This Nico thing, is it love or do you think he’s just trying to get into your head?”
“My head?” I know I shouldn’t, but I just can’t help myself. “Nooo, Pippa, I’m pretty sure he’s trying to get into my knickers.” Then I wink at the camera and escape while her mouth is still hanging open. I might catch hell—and an FIA fine—for that, but it was worth it.
Rigo steps between me and the cameras. Claudia and Cin whisk me back my driver’s room. I pass Reece on the way and he fist bumps me.
“Well played, Hayter.”
I snort. Reece Pritchard and I are as much friends as we are teammates, and I snag his sleeve. “Reece?”
“Yeah?”
I lower my voice so only he’ll hear. “Fuck team order. Take the shot if you get it, yeah?”
He considers me for a moment then grins. “We’ll see, TenP.”
My driver’s room is a sanctuary after the paddock’s chaos. Cin sets up the reflex board while I settle into my pre-race routine, muscle memory taking over.
“Your heart rate’s good.” She’s checking readings. “Blood pressure normal. Whatever else is happening out there, you’re ready to race.”
The familiar light patterns flash. I move automatically, anticipating, reacting. Hell, yes, I’m in the bloody zone today.
A knock interrupts.
Cin opens the door because the only person who’d dare break my focus at this point is Dad.
“Give us a few minutes, Jacintha?” he asks.
She checks her watch. “Five minutes, Coy. Then meditation.”
The door closes behind her, leaving me with a man who’s trying to be both father and team principal.
“Ready for this?” He settles into Cin’s vacated chair.
“The race or the circus?”
