Page 25 of Racing for Redemption
I nod, my mind racing. “Okay, we need to get ahead of this. Draft a press release, emphasizing William’s potential, and our commitment to rebuilding around him. And get me a meeting with our social media team. We need to control the narrative.”
“Rebuilding around a driver on a one-year contract?” Blake questions as he holds onto the tablet.
Damn. I honestly forgot about that. “Well, then we have to confirm that the contract has a two-year option that we can opt-in if he performs well during the year, which we predict will happen. Put emphasis on that, please.”
As Blake hurries off, I turn back to the garage. William is still deep in conversation with the engineers, oblivious to the storm brewing online. For a moment, I consider keeping him in the dark. Let him focus on driving while we handle the PR mess. Even if I predict that “PR mess” is going to be the best way to describe us this season.
But no. That’s not how I want to start this partnership.
“Foster,” I call out, my voice cutting through the chatter. “A word?”
He looks up, surprise flickering across his face at my tone. As he approaches, the concern in his eyes is obvious.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, lowering his voice.
I take a deep breath. “The signing leaked. It’s all over social media.”
William’s expression darkens. “Oh… How bad?”
“About what you’d expect,” I reply, watching his reaction carefully. “Lots of jokes at our expense. But also some genuine interest. Emphasis on ‘some,’ but itisthere.”
He nods slowly, processing the information. Then, to my surprise, a smirk spreads across his face. “Well, we knew they’d laugh at us. Might as well get it out of the way early, right?”
I blink, taken aback by his response. “You’re… not upset?”
William shrugs. “What’s the point? Let the snakes sing. We can’t change what’s already out there. All we can do is prove them wrong on the track.”
His no-bullshit attitude is infectious, and some of the tension leaves my shoulders, which is… unexpected. “Well, I’m glad you’re taking it in stride. But we still need to manage this carefully.”
He nods, his expression turning serious. “What do you need from me?”
I consider it for a moment. “We’ll need to do some interviews, get ahead of the narrative. Are you up for that?”
“Absolutely,” he says without hesitation. “Whatever it takes to make this work. Look, I’ll even share something with you: I’ve heard several times that I’m handsome, so I can charm the cameras all you want. How many winks do you need me to do? Do I need to show my abs or something? Wear extra-tight jeans?”
His eagerness catches me off guard.Damn, he’s so ridiculous.A far cry from the volatile hothead I’d encountered in Abu Dhabi.
“Alright then,” I say, allowing myself a small smile. “Let’s give them something to talk about.” I pause. “But no abs flashing on camera, or extra-tight jeans, okay?” I don't want to add us becoming a thirst-trap F1 racing team.
He chuckles. “Not for them, at least.” He winks and goes to his driver’s room, leaving me speechless.I’m sorry,what?
Over the next few days, we launch a media blitz for the first time. On one hand, it shows how amateurish we are at this, but on the other, we’ve never had to do it in the past, because my dad was an amazing CEO and Team Principal. And I’m far from that.
To my surprise, William proves to be a natural in front of the cameras, his charm and enthusiasm shining through. He was not bluffing. He’s open about his past mistakes, humble about the opportunity we’ve given him, and fiercely determined to prove the doubters wrong. But, there’s also a hint of cockiness that he masks with his smiles and goofy personality as he mentions how his goal is to charm everyone at Colton Racing.
I observe from the sidelines as he wins over journalist after journalist. Even the most cynical reporters seem charmed by his earnest passion and can’t find fault in him. At least, it looks like it, but we are prepared for those who’ll go rogue and dunk us whenever they have an opportunity. By the end of the day, we can’t please everyone, can we?
“You know,” Blake murmurs during one particularly successful interview, “this might actually work out better than if we’d announced it ourselves.”
I nod, unable to take my eyes off William as he gestures animatedly, describing his first impressions of our car. I speakalmost in a whisper to not disrupt the interviews. “The underdog story. Everyone loves a comeback.” He reminds me a bit of Anna, with those energetic, expressive gestures.
“And ahandsomeunderdog driver helps garner attention… no matter how volatile he may be,” Blake adds.
Indeed. William Foster is just what you’d expect of a Formula 1 driver, but with a twist—effortlessly charming, handsome, but with a goofy, happy-go-lucky personality, which is rare on the grid. He’s not the politically correct type of driver, but he gets things done.
“How tall are you, Blake?” The question rewards me with a confused look.
“Uh… 180 cm. Why do you ask?”
