Don’t read the comments was never a good way to start a press video.
“Fuck.”
Henri glanced over.“What?”
I was pulling up social media, my thumb flying across the screen.TheRacing in Heelssegment had been posted an hour ago, and the comments section was a disaster.
Are you kidding me with this?Why is she talking about her looksinstead of her pole position?
This is exactly why people don’t take women in motorsport seriously.Embarrassing.
Lily Blackwood is better than this.Who approved these questions?
“Do you feel pressure to look good?”Jesus Christ.What year isthis?
I scrolled further, my chest tightening with each new comment.
She should’ve walked out.Lost all respect for her.
Bet the male drivers aren’t getting asked about their beautyroutines.
“Lily?”
I looked up at Henri, and the concern in his eyes made something crack open inside me.I handed him my phone without a word.
He scanned the screen, his jaw tightening.Then he scrolled.And scrolled.
“Merde.”
“Oh God,” I groaned.“Maybe I should’ve walked out.My gut told me in the moment that I was setting women in racing back fifty years.”
Henri handed my phone back.“You didn’t have a choice, Lily.We’re contracted to these interview segments.”
“I should have just paid the fine.”I shoved my phone in my pocket, resisting the urge to throw it into the nearest body of water.“I should’ve refused.Should’ve made them ask me real questions.”
“Your team arranged this, didn’t they?”
I nodded, throat tight.“It’s an F1 sponsored segment—or was.Not sure it’ll continue after this mess…”
Henri grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him.“Oh, Lily.This isn’t on you.”
“Tell that to everyone calling me an embarrassment.”I ran my hands through my hair, which was still damp from the rain and thoroughly mussed from what we’d just done in the Beetle.“God, what if this follows me?What if every interview from now on, they bring this up?‘Remember when Lily Blackwood talked about moisturizer instead of racing?’”
“They won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know you,” Henri said quietly.“You’ll make them forget.One brilliant race, one perfect interview, and this becomes nothing.”
“You really believe that?”
“You’re Lily Blackwood.”His mouth curved into something almost like a smile.“Racing in Heelswill be a footnote.We’ll think of something,” he added.“Don’t worry.”
The rain had stopped completely now.Water dripped from the Beetle’s roof, each drop catching the sun.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
