Page 18 of Not So Fast
Are you nervous about losing your seat, Xander? There have been rumors. A lot of chatter about it.
“I’m focused on racing. That’s it.”
Mia’s heart seized in her chest. Right then and there she understood in a way that hadn’t been clear before—the things she said on her podcast mattered.
She’d given Xander shit about his driving—hell, she’d even made fun of him—and that had helped create this environment around him. She suddenly had a whole new perspective on her job, one that made her nervous and a bit sick to her stomach. Her little podcast had real-life repercussions for Xander and any other driver she chose to speak about. But her listeners expected her edge, her snarky opinion. They loved her for it. Was it possible for Mia to show true respect for the drivers in her favorite sport while creating an entertaining show? She wasn’t sure that balance was possible, but it was apparently her mandate moving forward, at least if she wanted to have access to the sport, build on her current success and still sleep soundly at night.
Luckily, the session moved on to other drivers and more pleasant topics after a few more rocky questions for Xander.Mia made a zillion notes and wished she could have made an audio recording, but she was forbidden from doing so, as well as taking pictures, another reminder that she wasn’t really the “media.” She was someone who’d gotten a pass because a driver couldn’t back down from the shit his teammate was giving him.
When the session wrapped up, Mia stood and that was when she made eye contact with Xander. Feeling hopeful, she waved. He waved back. For a split second, she was pleased, then he turned and walked out of the room so quickly she wondered if it had even happened.Fuck.
Mia started for the exit, but was stopped by a spindly man with a handheld recorder and a camera looped around his neck. “Excuse me,” she said, trying to get past him.
“You’re Mia Neal. The American podcaster.”
She came to a stop. “Do I know you?”
He held up his badge. “Reginald Huff. I write forThe Daily Reflectionout of London.”
Mia stifled a groan.The Daily Reflectionwas a terrible tabloid, world-renowned for spreading gossip about anyone rich or powerful in the UK. They’d given Meghan and Harry such a hard time, it prompted their exodus from England.
“Nice to meet you, Reginald. Now, if you’ll let me past, I have things I need to do.” That was a total lie, but Mia already didn’t like this guy.
“I saw you wave at Xander Bishop. He paid your way here, didn’t he?”
Now Mia was beyond creeped out. “How do you know that?”
“Including your hotel, I’m guessing. I know you’re staying at the Hotel de la Ville and a normal person can’t get a roomthere. You need a connection with a team or a driver. You were much nicer to him on your podcast after Miami, which is interesting since he had such a terrible result. Are you on the take from Mr. Bishop? Did he buy your favor in order to take the pressure off?”
Mia reared back her head. How in the hell did he know so much about her? How was he making these leaps? The answers hit her all at once—he’d listened to the Miami episode of her podcast where she’d come right out with it and said Xander had invited her to Italy. She’d divulged the info to be up-front with her listeners. It had never occurred to her that someone might twist around her honesty and use it against her.
“I wouldn’t say I was nice. I was less harsh. I felt bad for him. My podcast is my opinion, Mr. Huff. I can say whatever I want.”
Reginald scowled. “Oh, right. You’re aninfluencer. You think you can waltz into this sport with zero accountability.”
It was the first time someone had referred to Mia as an influencer and it certainly gave her pause. She’d strived for that label because it hinted at a certain level of success. Now she wasn’t so sure she liked it. It suggested a person who tried to mold public opinion, rather than merely present their own. Now she felt confronted by yet another fine line and another set of questions she might be forced to answer one day. Was she just a fan? A member of the media? Or something else entirely?
Just then, Mia felt a hand on her shoulder. “Is old Reginald giving you a hard time?” a musical British voice asked.
Mia turned to see Claudia Simon, absolute legend of Formula One broadcasting, standing at her side. “Ms. Simon—” Mia sputtered.
“You donothave to talk to him if you don’t want to,” Claudia said.
“I was only making a few queries about her relationship with Xander, Claudia. No need to be a pit bull about it. It’s my prerogative as a journalist.”
Claudia tutted. “That’s a very generous use of that word, Reginald. Why don’t you scurry off and pester someone else?”
Reginald rolled his eyes, but then he slid Mia an angry look. “Just remember. I’ll be watching.”
“Oh, my God,” Mia said to Claudia once Reginald was gone. A million things were running through her head, beginning with the realization that a woman she idolized had come to her rescue. “Thank you so much for stepping in. I love you.”
Claudia laughed. “Okay…”
“I mean I have loved you. Forever. Since I was a little girl.”
“Well, now I feel old.”
“No. No. That’s not what I’m saying.” Mia was tripping over her words. She needed to take a beat and formulate a coherent thought. “I’ve just always really admired your work, Ms. Simon. And thank you for getting him to go away. He started asking questions, and I wasn’t prepared. No one has ever put me on the spot like that. I’m Mia Neal, by the way. I do a fan podcast calledNot So Fast.”
