Chapter 7 Generous to the Mistress

Night settled over Middlebrough Circuit. Noelle signed in at the pit desk, dressed in a racing suit with a helmet in place. A familiar kid's voice rang out behind her. "Mom!" She froze before instinctively turning around, only to see Zayne clutching a bouquet. Led by Clifford, he carefully placed the bouquet into the arms of another woman in racing gear. The woman's wavy hair cascaded freely, and her makeup was flawless. She exuded a captivating charm and undeniable toughness, heightened by her sleek racing suit. It was Lola. Noelle hadn't expected to run into her here. And she certainly hadn't imagined that, less than a day after the divorce, Zayne would willingly see another woman as his mom. Lola accepted the bouquet from Zayne with a practiced, glamorous smile. "Thank you for the flowers, Zayne. I love them!" "You have to win today, Mom! Dad and I will be cheering for you from the stands!" Zayne declared with earnest determination, though his brows were tightly furrowed. He subconsciously pressed a hand against his stomach, and Lola asked in concern, "What's wrong, Zayne?" He quickly shook his head. "It's nothing. I just had a little too much ice cream today, so my stomach keeps hurting. "But it's okay, Mom. I'm training my stomach to get stronger, and it'll get used to it. I'm a big boy now. I'm not weak!" Lola's eyes glistened with traces of concern as she softly stroked his hair. "You're so brave." Noelle almost laughed out loud. Zayne's face was pale from the pain with sweat beading at his temples, but he still braced himself and stubbornly insisted he was fine. He sure was as obstinate and prideful as his dad. Lola turned to Clifford and tugged lightly at his sleeve as she said sweetly, "Mr. Fuller, this is a wagered race. Every racer has to have money riding on them. Will you bet on me?" When Clifford frowned, she hurriedly explained, "I'm just worried that no one will bet on me if I win. That'd be so embarrassing." With a wave, he summoned a staff and generously announced, "I'll bet a million dollars on her win." Lola's eyes gleamed in delight, though she dared not let it show. She sweetly chirped, "Thank you, Mr. Fuller." Watching the entire scene unfold from the side, Noelle scoffed. Clifford sure was generous to his mistress and could toss a million dollars without a blink, yet he'd never once spared a single dollar for his wife. Walking away from him was the right choice. Just then, people began noticing Noelle. Her racing suit, provided by Raymond Lloyd, featured a bold number "12" on the back. It was Raymond's signature number. Whispers and debates quickly spread. "Well, well, it looks like Mr. Lloyd found a female racer to substitute for him today. What a shame. If he can't place higher than second himself, what chance does a female racer stand against us?" The racing world had always been short on female racers, especially truly skilled ones. "The only respectable female racer all these years has been Lola. She's the queen of our circuit! This stand-in won't even take off her helmet and is probably too ugly to show her face." The crowd erupted in mocking laughter, while Noelle remained completely unfazed. Lola lowered her head shyly. "Oh, don't say that. I'm not that good. I'm still far from a professional racer." She walked sweetly toward Noelle with a barely concealed, probing curiosity in her smiling eyes. She tried to glimpse the face behind the helmet as she extended a hand. "Hi, I'm Lola Perez. Looking forward to racing with you." Noelle didn't even glance her way and strode straight toward the starting point. At that, the crowd was furious. They were shocked by Noelle's arrogant responses. Humiliated, Lola clenched her teeth and forced a graceful smile. "In that case, I'll join this race and challenge her, too." Lola was confident that no other female amateur racer was better than she was.