Ollie watched me, a sweet smile on his face, like he really believed I could pass Henri.It warmed my heart.
“I’m sorry I’ve been rubbish at texting back,” I said, redirecting the conversation.“Since the engagement party, it’s been nonstop.Testing, media, sponsorship meetings—”
“You don’t have to apologize.”His grin was easy.“I get it.You’re fighting for a championship.I’m just glad I get to see you at all.”
The kindness in his voice made my chest tighten.He’d been nothing but patient, nothing but understanding, even when the tabloids had splashed Henri’s face across headlines with mine.
“Look, about Montreal…” Ollie shifted his weight, suddenly awkward.“With Henri.I just wanted to check in…” I could see what he was fishing for.Why had Henri been there?
“We were arguing, that’s all.”The words came automatically.Not entirely untrue.Ollie and I weren’t dating—I didn’t need to justify myself, even if I felt a bit guilty.
“Right.”He nodded, shifting his weight from one side to another.He had something else he wanted to say.“Good.”He paused, then cleared his throat.“You know, I was thinking, if it would help take some of the pressure off, I still have that photo the server took of us at dinner in Montreal.If it’s helpful, I’m happy to post it.You know, show people you’re not—”
“No.”The word probably came out faster than it should have, but something about that option gave me immediate pause.
Ollie blinked, surprised.
“I mean…” I softened my tone, forcing a smile.“I appreciate the offer, really.But I don’t think using our dinner for PR is the right move.”
Something about weaponizing a date—even a semi-arranged one—felt wrong.Like turning something real into strategy.Something my mother would do.Plus, I didn’t really want people to think I was dating Ollie either.
I wasn’t actually dating anyone.
“Of course.”Ollie recovered quickly, that easy smile back in place.“No problem at all.Just thought I’d offer.”
“Thank you, though.For thinking of me.”
“Always.”
My shoulders relaxed.“That was thoughtful.Really.”
Ollie shrugged, but happiness softened his features.“Just trying to help however I can.”
I studied him, the genuine concern in his expression, the way he just came to bring me flowers and check in.No ulterior motive written across his face, no calculation.Just kindness.Maybe I’d been too quick to dismiss his offer.
Before either of us could say any more, the door swung open without warning.My mother swept in like she owned the place, tailored blazer at attention.
“Darling, you’re slouching again— Oh!”She stopped short, eyes landing on Ollie.Her expression transformed, ice melting into warmth.“Oliver.What a lovely surprise.”
“Mrs.Blackwood.”Ollie straightened, suddenly more formal.“Good to see you again.”
“The pleasure’s mine.”She glanced between us, assessing.“I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Not at all,” Ollie said smoothly.“I was just leaving.Big day tomorrow.”
He squeezed my hand, leaving a quick peck on my cheek as he passed.“Good luck out there.”
“Thanks.”
My mother’s gaze followed him as he left, always calculating.“Such a charming young man,” she said.The dim light of my tablet turned on when I touched it, opting to turn back to my analysis.
I didn’t bother looking up from my screen.
“Why do you seem so put out?”She made a show of closing the door behind her, muffling the noise outside.
“I qualified second in Monaco.Allow me a brief wallow before you start whatever lecture you’ve come to share.”
“Do you have any idea how much work it’s taken to salvage your reputation this week?”Her voice carried that familiar edge of barely contained frustration—the one that had followed me through countless junior karting championships and into Formula 1.
