“Probably the team again.”
My phone flashed next, screen illuminating my lap.Then again.And again.I watched the notifications stack one after another, each buzz like a tiny warning bell.My thumb hovered over the screen, not quite ready to swipe.
It was Luca who broke the silence first.“Uh… Lily?”
“What?”I asked, too slow, dread already pooling in my stomach.
He turned his screen toward me.Even upside down, I recognized it.
A grainy hotel hallway.Time stamp: 11:47 p.m.Henri, in his bright purple Hermes racing polo, his hand on a door handle.My door handle.The angle suggested security footage, or someone with a phone at the end of the corridor.
The headline screamed across every feed:
RENNEN’S LILY BLACKWOOD SPOTTED WITH RIVAL HENRI DUBOIS INLATE-NIGHT HOTEL RENDEZVOUS.
“Shit.”The word came out strangled.“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Georgia was already scrolling, her expression shifting from confusion to concern.“When was this?”
“Montreal.After the race.”My hands had gone numb.“He followed me to my room.We were… arguing.”
Among other things.
In that moment, I thanked whoever was watching above that the press had caught Henri leaving my room, and not us getting into it.
“About what?”Luca asked carefully.
I couldn’t answer that.How it had evolved from a kiss in the elevator and the hallway to a fight about the note that wouldn’t stop haunting me.I couldn’t tell them about the note, about Henri demanding I report it, about how quickly everything spiraled.
Or the kiss.I definitely couldn’t tell them about that.
Georgia kept reading, her voice quiet.“‘Sources close to the situation confirm that Blackwood’s late-night rendezvous with rival driver Dubois raises serious questions about her commitment to racing.The first female driver for Rennen was brought on with the understanding that she would maintain complete focus on her championship campaign, not engage in romantic entanglements compromising team dynamics and competitive integrity.’”
The words hit like physical blows.
“This is insane.”I stood, my legs unsteady.“I mean… that was me kicking him out!”
“Lily.”Georgia’s voice was gentle but firm.“I’m sure it will resolve itself.”She stood, crossing to where I’d frozen by the window.Her hand found my shoulder, warm and steady.“Lily, look at me.”
Her eyes were all kind and sympathetic.The same ones that had talked me through countless bad races, terrible press conferences, every moment I’d wanted to quit.
“This will blow over,” she said firmly.“You know how these things work.Tomorrow there’ll be some new scandal, some other driver caught doing something worth headlines.By Thursday, this’ll be buried under practice times and strategy talk.”
“The team is going to be so annoyed.They basically hate Henri and Hermes.Not to mention that morality clause I told you about… Ugh, my mother is going to have a field day with this.”
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” she cut in, her voice sharp enough to make Luca glance up.“One photo of you and Henri?That’s a weak story at best.It could be anything.Likearguing.”Her emphasis on the word told me she didn’t exactly believe that was all we were doing.
“Right,” I managed, though my throat felt tight.
Georgia eyed me cautiously for a moment.“So, why was my brother there so late anyway?”There was almost an edge of eagerness in her eyes.
“We were just bickering about the race.”Not entirely false.
Last season, Georgia had made subtle—or not so subtle—jokes about me and Henri dating.But judging by her slightly disappointed face, Henri still hadn’t told her about Las Vegas.
“Come on.”She took my phone from my hands, powering it down before I could protest.“You’re staying here tonight anyway.We’ll deal with this in the morning.”
“Georgia.”
