The thought circled in my mind like a warning I couldn’t voice, a truth Georgia wouldn’t understand, because she didn’t know what I knew.Didn’t know what Ollie was capable of when he wanted something.
The door swung open hard enough to rattle the glass.Ruth swept in, her Hermes lanyard bouncing against a white silk blouse.Her gaze landed on Georgia with veiled disapproval.
“I see you’re still here.”
The team didn’t love having my sister in the Hermes driver’s suite, even if she was family.Georgia had learned to keep her distance over the years, to fade into the background when the cameras came out.But Ruth never missed a chance to make a point.
“Hello to you too,” Georgia said dryly, crossing her legs with the kind of calm that only irritated Ruth more.
Ruth didn’t bite—didn’t even spare her another look.“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”She pointed her eyes squarely at me.
She slammed the tablet onto the coffee table hard enough to make both of us flinch.My own face stared back at me from the screen, frozen mid-blink in a still from the Ollie interview.I looked like someone I barely recognized, jaw tight, eyes cold, every muscle in my face betraying barely controlled anger.
Ruth jabbed the play button.My voice filled the room, flat and cold.
You don’t burn out on something you love.
Georgia’s eyebrows shot up.“Henri…”
“Compelling television,” Ruth said, tapping the screen again to stop it, “if the goal was to tank an interview about mental health.”
I exhaled slowly through my nose, trying to keep my expression neutral.The moment I walked out of that interview, I knew it would come back to haunt me.It hadn’t felt right in the moment, and hearing it back now?It felt even worse.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”Except I did.
She turned her gaze back to me.“Then what did you mean?”
“Just that I love racing, and I’m lucky to be here in the Hermes seat.That this has been my dream since I was a child.”
“Then why didn’t you say that!”she groaned.“And don’t get me started on the rest of the interview.The short answers?The monotone voice?You couldn’t look less pleased to be there.”Ruth spun toward Georgia as if searching for an ally, only to find her least favorite person in the room.“This seems like something out of your playbook.Have you been teaching him this?”
A not-so-subtle dig at the fact my sister was famous for her one-word press-conference answers.
Georgia’s mouth twitched with amusement.“Besides the burnout answer, he didn’t sound that bad, Ruth.Being your authentic self is what people like these days.”
Ruth gave a humorless laugh.“Authenticity is a luxury reserved for people without seven-figure contracts.I need Henri to be someone else in this interview.”
“Come on, it’s not that bad.”
“Oh, please.”She waved Georgia off.“Look, Henri, I get that you’re a genius in a car, but out here?”She gestured around the lounge.“Out here, none of that matters.You can’t be a PR liability.”
I scratched my nails against my leg.“You done?”
Ruth took a measured breath, visibly reining in her frustration.“Fortunately, they’re going to let you redo the interview.As the documentary won’t air until after summer break, we have some time.I will prep some questions and get that redone.Understood?”Her tone left no room for negotiation.
I raised both hands in mock surrender.“I’ll do my best.”
“Lately, your best has left much to be desired.”Ruth closed her eyes as if reciting a prayer for patience.“Now, we have your post-qualifying press conference.Henri, please, try not to dig your press hole any deeper between now and tomorrow.Your conference is in twenty minutes.Don’t make me chase you.”
She straightened her lanyard, spared Georgia one last icy glance, and marched out without waiting for a response.The door shut behind her with a loud click.
Georgia let out a low whistle.“Remind me never to get on her shit list.”
“Too late for both of us,” I muttered.
“That interview with Ollie, though.What was that about?”
I rubbed my face with both hands.“What do you mean?”
