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I plaster on my media smile. “I’ve been well. Thank you for inviting us to the event.”
“We are more than ecstatic to have both you and Zander here with us today. I’m going to bring you into the VIP area where the signing will be. Mr. Donovan is running a little late, but there are some eager guests waiting to get some photos with you,” she informs us as she leads the way to a room adjacent the ballroom where lunch was being served.
I glance briefly at Elle who offers me a smile as we enter the room. There are approximately thirty people in the room when we get there. Clara ushers me over to the table set up for me to sign sponsor cards and take photos. “Thank you,” I comment as I step behind the table.
Clara turns to the crowd. “Thank you for your patience, everyone. Mr. Donovan is running a little behind, but Haisley Meyer is here. Ms. Meyer is currently in her rookie year on the INDY circuit and is a big supporter of the Tampa Children’s Foundation, which we are raising money for this year as the charity of the year.”
Ah, yes. The charity of the year. They asked me if I had one in mind, and I immediately thought of the TCF. When my mother died and my father decided his career was more important than his daughter, I ended up there briefly. Well, in one of their facilities until I could be reunited with my grandmother.
Elle’s parents and my mother all died in a horrific plane crash when I was five and Elle was six. I was thankful that my grandmother was willing to take me in, not that I should have second guessed that. She was never the issue. It was just my father, and my uncle was aware of his decision to not be part of my life. Hence, why they were all together.
I bring myself out of my memories and force the smile again. There are a few children in the group. “Thank you, everyone. I am excited and so honored to be here today.” I watch as the guests start to line up, and I smile bigger. Honestly, this is what I love about doing what I do. I love seeing the fans and interacting with them.
I’m signing autographs and taking pictures with some of the guests when I hear the commotion of the door opening as Zander Donovan arrives. Now, I really do roll my eyes to myself and plaster the fake smile back on. All attention turns to him, and the guests immediately flock over to him.
I take a deep breath and try to remember that this is what’s going to happen. He is a huge name in our industry, and so is his father. I watch as he nods his head in my direction, and I nod back. There are a few people left in my line, and I turn my attention back to them, remembering the true reason why I love all of this.
***
Friday before Texas - March 18
Elle and I are sitting in the RV after flying in this morning and arriving at the track. Practice isn’t set until tomorrow. We get one practice before qualifying, and then two more practices before the race on Sunday.
“You okay?” she asks as I scroll through social media.
“I’m alright. Tired and worried about this weekend. I haven’t really had to deal with Bud or Drake in the last two weeks, so…” I trail off.
“I know. Listen, Haisley, you’ve been around men like him before. The ones that make the derogatory comments about woman in racing. Look at all the shit Danica Patrick dealt with. You’re not the first woman to race, and I’m sure you won’t be the last. The arrogant asshole is just that: an arrogant old-school asshole,” she reminds me.
“I’m aware of that. I am, but I’ve worked so hard to make sure that I am here on my merit alone. I’m not sure how Hunter even found out who my dad was. It’s not like my father is beating down my door, ya know?” I muse back.
“I’m sure if people dig hard enough, they could find out he’s your father. It was big news at the time of the crash, at least Grams’ said it was,” she replies. “But that’s not what this is about, is it?”
I shake my head. “Not all of it. I’m scared of going into that car with him at the helm. He’s responsible for making sure we have a strategy, that I stay safe. He barely talks on the radio unless it’s a cheap shot which he skillfully disguises, knowing the radio is open and recorded.”
“You’ve raced one race with him, Haisley. Maybe we—you—need to give him some time to adjust to his new norm. He’s never dealt with a female driver,” she points out as I shrug again.
“Maybe. I’m still scared,” I admit in full honesty. “I need to trust that the person in the pit box has my best interest in mind. And I really don’t with him.”
Elle shrugs. “I’m not sure what you want me to say to you, Hais. He’s your typical egotistical asshole. Nothing is going to change him.”
“I know. I just wish I could get my mindset right when I'm in the car.”
“You have your spotter. He’s not going to allow shit on the track to affect you, and you need to trust that Saint and the team built you a safe car, a fast car,” she adds as I nod.
There’s still a lot going on in my head. It is only the second race of the year, and not securing sponsorship for the Motorsport Park race has me already pissed off. It was the only race we couldn’t secure, and it didn’t make sense to me, but it is what it is. It’ll give me extra practice for the road course.
“Why don’t we get dinner in tonight and watch a movie or maybe Netflix?” Elle suggests as she pulls me from my overthinking.
“I’m so not doing a Netflix and chill night with you,” I laugh. She throws a pillow across the short pathway at me.
“You are disgusting, you know that?”
I laugh again. “I know I am, but what are you?”
***
Sunday
