Chapter Four
Lily
By the time I reached the Rennen garage, all I could think about was sleep.I was halfway to my driver’s room when a smooth, unmistakably English voice cut through the air.
“Lillian.”
Oh, brilliant.Just what I need right now.
My mother stood framed in the doorway like she’d been posed there by a photographer, pearl-colored blazer gleaming under the room’s lighting.One manicured hand rested on her handbag as if she was worried someone might steal it from under her nose.
No team gear, of course.Victoria Blackwood didn’t wear anything that hadn’t hit the runway.
“Mum,” I greeted with a casual smile.
“There’s someone here who wanted to say hello.”Based on the unusual giddiness of her voice, I knew whoever it was must have been important.
Marcus Freeman appeared behind my mother, his six-foot-something frame making her look almost childlike by comparison.The CEO of BetHere Gaming had his silver hair combed back so severely it looked painted on, and his smile reminded me of every used car salesman I’d ever met.His tanned hand was already extended toward me.
“Lily!The car looks excellent this weekend.Really fantastic work from you this season.”
I took his hand, trying to force down the exhaustion.“Thanks, Mr.Freeman.Appreciate you coming by.”
“Please, call me Marcus.”He grinned wider.“I was just telling your mother how impressed we’ve been with your performance.You’re doing wonderful things for both Rennen and F1.”
“She’s always been driven,” my mother bragged.“Even as a young girl.She won her first karting championship at eight, you know.”
“Mum—” I had no doubt Marcus knew all of this, but he just beamed at my mother.“That kind of dedication is exactly what BetHere looks for in our partnerships.We’re not here to just back drivers; we want to back champions.”
Champions who make you money.
“Well, I should let you rest.”Marcus stepped back, his gold cufflinks catching the light as he checked his Patek Philippe watch.“Big week ahead.But I wanted to pop in, see the talent up close.”
“I appreciate it.”I smiled.
“Let’s arrange a dinner sometime.You, me, your mother.Discuss the future.”He winked.
I nodded, jaw aching from the smile that now felt a bit too forced.Marcus shook my hand again, squeezed Mum’s shoulder, then disappeared down the corridor.
The second he was gone, my mother turned to me.
“He’s a very important sponsor, Lillian.”Her tone shifted, sharpening.“So, if you see him again, be sure to say hello.His company has historically sponsored F1 teams, but there’s interest in some individual deals too.”
Finally, Victoria’s eyes swept over me, assessing the rumpled sleeves of my team half-zip and the grease stain on my jeans.
“My goodness, you look dreadful.”Her voice made me straighten up, a reflex so ingrained I couldn’t override it even if I wanted to.
“Well, I did just finish qualifying?”Not that my mother had bothered to watch it.That I was sure of.
“Don’t be flippant.It doesn’t suit you.”Well, at least now I knew where Bertha had gotten the word from.
She took a seat on my sofa, motioning for me to do the same.“I watched your press conference.Not too terrible.At least you skipped the jokes this time.”
I folded my arms defensively, suddenly too aware of how small the driver’s room felt with her in it.“Aren’t you the one who told me to distract them with my ‘sunshiny personality’?”I made air quotes around the phrase she’d used so often over the years.
“Smile, Lillian.A sunshinysmile.”Her sigh was deliberate, in an over-the-top theatrical way.Something she’d perfected since my childhood.“No words needed.Just that lovely, disarming expression you do so well.”
“Thanks for the advice,” I said, holding up my phone with my lap-time data.“But as you can see, I’m doing fine.”
