It’s crazy to think Minnie spent her childhood here. I didn’t grow up a stranger to high-level sport, but there’s pageantry and then there’s F1 pageantry. If motorsport Monaco is champagne and yachts, tennis Monaco is bananas and folding chairs. There were no convoys, no luxury catering, no extensive management – it was economy, a battered suitcase, and homemade smoothies. I smile as my memories of Monaco flood back. Dad never did reach the heights of tennis himself, but the art of hustling is one of the few things we can still connect on.
‘Somewhere you definitely wouldn’t want to overtake is the Casino up here,’ Tom remarks, pushing his hands in his pockets. ‘It’s one of the hardest overtaking spots in the sport. You breathe wrong, you end up likeMonsieur Blanchet.’
I mentally note it to use in my commentary later.
‘That’s a really nice hotel.’ He gestures to the Hotel de Paris.
‘I know,’ I say, swivelling to capture him and his engineers in the Square.
‘Over €6000 a night, I’m told.’
‘You were told correct.’ I reposition my phone to tackle the glare. This cheeky sun.
‘You’ve heard it too?’
‘I’m staying in it.’
His eyebrows lift over his sunglasses and I swallow a smile. What, can’t a girl afford her own suite in a five-star hotel? I mean, I can, but I wouldn’t. That’s where L’Oréal and their new SPF comes in. The pillows have my initials embroidered on them and everything.
Where a sea of hypercars were parked on my arrival is now an impenetrable fortress of metal barriers. I’m not sure I fancy colliding with those things. This track feels tight even walking it, let alone driving at 100mph.
‘Monaco’s a divisive track. It’s glamorous and prestigious, but tough and unforgiving. How do you feel about it?’ I ask, keeping my camera trained on Tom as we head downhill towards a twisty hairpin section.
‘It’s complicated. Monaco’s home – I drive these streets all the time. It’s the race every young karter dreams of winning one day. But, like you said, it’s tough. Sometimes you’re more surviving than racing. You have to use the walls; you can’t run from them. The track’s not built for the modern race car, which means there’s a limit to what you can do as a driver, and it can be pretty boring to spectate. Then again, I have won it – three times – and I can say it’s worth it.’
‘All three times?’
‘All three times. And I’ll do it again on Sunday for the chance to feel it again.’
‘Same as last year here, Tom,’ murmurs his engineer. ‘Grip should come up once the rubber goes down, but maybe not evenly. You’ll sense it. Same rhythm as before.’
I wonder if Tiago does this with his team. From the sounds of it, Leone lack cohesion and?—
Why am I thinking about him right now? Dickhead’s probably in bed with some model, not giving me and our meeting time a second thought. He doesn’t deserve any of my wonders.
Imagine what Tom would say if I told him the truth right now. The chance of him being up for a six-month-long, mutually beneficial fake relationship are slimmer than that hairpin turn up ahead. Though duping him does make this already tricky situation a hundred times worse.
I ponder it throughout the second half of the walk, 2.5km through the fast-heating streets. I can’t picture what it’ll be like hurtling round here in a fireproof suit. Tiago will need to put his Miami heat training to the?—
Why does he pop up everywhere please?
We return along the start/finish straight and I’ve decided I can’t leave without cementing the next phase of our relationship. If we get back to the tunnel and he hasn’t made a move, I’m going to take Tiago’s advice and?—
A hand lightly brushes my wrist.
‘Hey,’ Tom says, stopping, his engineers and comms team walking off towards the pits.
My heartrate picks up at this new earnest tone. ‘Yes?’
‘So, you and Cabrera…’
It takes a moment for me to catch up. Tom thinks we’retogether? Tiago andI? I mean, a part of me isn’t surprised. Between the bickering, the banter, the sexual tension, that smile, those lashes–
What am I saying?
‘Just friends,’ I say firmly. ‘Gross.’ It feels wrong to connect that word to Tiago but that’s probably the sun warping my brain. Brits are indoor creatures.
‘I didn’t know he was capable of being just friends with a beautiful woman.’
