“Sure. One of the most badass drivers this sport has ever seen, a woman who was on her way to winning the world championship if it hadn’t been for a crash that never should have happened, thought you not having a clue who she was, and schooling her wassweet. I don’t know what the statistical likelihood of that scenario works out to be, but let me tell you, it’s not in your favor.”
Reese sobered. “Point taken.” She shrugged. “I’ll find a way to win her over. She’s probably only here for tonight anyway, a show of support.”
“Maybe.”
“If I can just make it through this event without bursting into flames, there’s a chance I can look myself in the mirror again.”
“Just have to survive an hour then. Two tops.” Julie nodded, seeming to take comfort in that lifeline. “Let’s get through tonight without any more missteps, okay? You have got to be on your best behavior.”
“Yes. You’re right, and I will be.”
“Excuse me, are you Reese Maddox?” a twenty-something in a decidedly low-cut top asked as she slid a strand of blond hair over her ear.
Reese eased into a polite smile and turned to the girl with full attention. She wanted her fans to feel seen, a choice she’d made after drivers she’d idolized had brushed her off when she was a kid. She vowed never to do that to anyone once she’d established a career. “I am. Hi. What’s your name?”
“Sophie.”
“It’s really nice to meet you.”
“Would you mind signing a hat for me?” Sophie came prepared and pushed forward a Ravensport team hat and pen, which Reese happily took and used to sign the bill.
“Come on,” Julie said, tugging her wrist. “We have a reception to get to. Sorry, Sophie.”
“That’s okay. So awesome meeting you!” Sophie called.
As she was being dragged away, Reese waved at the soft-eyed woman and held her gaze for a few seconds, watching as she melted and blushed. Sophie had been friendly and sweet, and the fan interaction had been just what Reese needed, helping her forget about the most embarrassing moment of her life. At least, for all of two minutes.
CHAPTER 3
THIS IS FINE
The elevator doors slid open to the 22ndfloor with a soft chime, and Reese stepped into a world that smelled faintly of polished marble and expensive perfume. The reception was perched near the very top of the Delacorte Hotel with the city of Miami sprawling beneath floor-to-ceiling windows like a glittering circuit of its own. Neon streaks from South Beach pulsed in the distance, while the ocean caught the fading light of sunset, a watercolor wash of pink and indigo. The view alone was enough to steal her breath. Veronica Vance had timed the event perfectly. Reese was drawn immediately to the windows, eager to soak in the gorgeous view and catch her breath a moment, but the hum of voices quickly pulled her attention back inside. She smiled at the people she passed, nodded politely, and remembered to put on her professional face.No hitting on anyone. Absolutely do not flirt.Julie’s words were a chant in the back of her brain.
The room had been dressed to impress. Sleek cocktail tables draped in white linen were scattered across the glossy parquet floor, each crowned with flickering votives and delicate arrangements of tropical orchids.Nice touch. Waiters incrisp black uniforms floated through the crowd with trays of champagne flutes and artfully plated hors d’oeuvres.
“Those look too pretty to eat,” Julie whispered as a server glided by with canapés.
“Yeah, Veronica Vance doesn’t mess around,” Reese whispered back, feeling intimidated for the first time in quite a while. She couldn’t pronounce half these foods.
“I see Rodney,” Julie whispered, gesturing toward Ravensport’s team principal. Rodney Krauss oversaw both the drivers and the myriad of people supporting them. He was at the top of the pyramid and also their boss, meaning they’d have daily interactions. Academy or not, Ravensport took winning seriously and wanted as many points on the board as possible. “I’m going to go check with him about the tire degradation data we received.”
“Okay. Let him know I’m flexible on strategy,” Reese said, wanting to start the series as a team player. The one-woman show had never served her well, so her goal was to collaborate more. Not always insist she knew best. She could do that. Right?
Alone now, she studied the room. The buzz of conversation was thick, easy, practiced. Everyone was already slipping into the rhythm of a season that hadn’t even begun. Reese spotted a few familiar faces—two drivers she’d tangled with in karting days, one who’d beaten her soundly in a rain-soaked final. Others she recognized only from her late-night Googling before hopping on the plane: names she’d studied, stats she’d memorized, faces that still felt like cutouts from someone else’s highlight reel. She blew out a breath and adjusted her posture, trying to project confidence, but the memory of her earlier blunder with Sloane Foster tugged at her like a loose thread.
“Reese, hey.”
She turned at the sound of her name to see Delaney Rhodes, one of her truly good friends from when she was just a kidracing go-karts. It had been what, a couple of years since they’d seen each other? Delaney looked awesome as always, fashion-forward with a nod to European trends. Tonight, she wore black pants, sockless loafers, and a sleeveless white blouse that showed off her fabulous arms. Her thick, chestnut hair was loose past her shoulders and shiny, offering the slightest, God-given wave. A lopsided grin tugged at her mouth, the same one Reese remembered from podium photos years ago. Delaney always managed to look effortlessly cool with a sweetness one didn’t suspect lurking behind the very chill persona. Reese grinned, a little tension slipping from her shoulders at the sight of a familiar face.
“I was starting to think you’d ghosted me,” Reese said, breaking into a grin as she pulled Delaney into an immediate hug. They were headed into the academy as teammates—the two drivers signed by Ravensport—and Reese couldn’t imagine a better pairing. Delaney was fast, fearless, and exactly the kind of competition Reese wanted beside her instead of across the garage. The fact that they’d both be wearing Ravensport royal blue only sweetened this new chapter of her career. Their connection had always worked like this: no warm-up required. Time fell away the second they were together, and they slid easily back into the rhythm of talking trash, trading life updates, comparing love-life disasters, and joking about which one of them would cross the finish line first.
“Did you ever imagine us here when we were teenagers? This close to it all?" Delaney glanced around, eyes wide, as if having stumbled into Disney World as a child. “We’re on an actual scout list for Formula 1.”
“No. I definitely didn’t,” Reese said. “We’re karters.” She leaned closer, not wanting to let anyone else in on the imposter syndrome. “Where are the hot dog stands and dollar-fifty beers, because this reception is not that.”
“Right? I’m feeling very much out of my league. Looking around this room, I see why they call F1 a rich man’s sport.”
Reese stepped closer. “Let’s make it so they can’t use the wordmanin that descriptor ever again.”
