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Fuck it, I thought to myself,maybe Luca is right. A little wine might salvage this evening.
I took a sip, and to my annoyance, the glass of wine was probably some of the best I had ever tasted. I was no wine snob, but Luca had chosen an excellent bottle.Because, of course, the spoiled brat was also a wine snob.
Luca smirked as he dutifully watched me drink the wine. The bastard knew I would like it and reveled in the fact that he had convinced me to break my pre-race ritual.
“I like to paint,” I said casually, taking a second sip of the wine. “Your turn.” I passed the cards over to Luca. He frowned but opted to read out the next question.
“What is your favorite color?” He asked, scoffing ever so slightly.
“Gold. Yours?”
“Purple.”
I looked at him, my mouth slightly agape. Of course it was purple, Hermes prick. Truth be told, I had wanted to say blue, but I thought I would soundstupidadmitting that my favorite color was the color of my F1 team car. After hearing Luca say purple, it turned out I was right – itdidsound stupid. I smirked internally at that and patted myself on the proverbial back.
Good one, Georgia.
Before I could continue to pat myself on my back for my internal snarky monologue, Luca passed the questions back to me.
“Favorite movie?” I asked.
“Who wrote these stupid questions?” Luca groaned, snatching the cards back from me. “No one is going to ask us what each other’s favorite movie is or which type of pasta we like.” I ignored his comment and answered my question.
“My favorite movie is Atonement.”
“Never seen it.” Now, that didn’t surprise me. Luca didn’t strike me as someone who watched romantic movies about two people whose love was doomed from the start. He struck me as a Terminator, Transformers,Michael Bay sort of guy.
Lots of action, pretty girls, little plot.
“Here’s something Idowant to know,” Luca said suddenly. “Every time Henri talks aboutyou, he goes on and on about how funny and darling you are.” He said the darling with air quotes, but I chose to ignore them. “Why can’t you be like that in front of the media?”
All at once, I had a million things cross my mind, a million things that I wanted to say, but I knew the truth would make me look weak, and like hell was I going to look weak in front of Luca Rossi. What I should have said was that when I got in front of the media, it felt like the wind was being kicked out of me. Or when I approached the media pen, my palms got so sweaty that I struggled to focus on anything but the drops of sweat dripping down my face and hands. How my quick remarks weren’t meant to be snippy – all I wanted was for the interview to be over as fast as possible so I could retreat to the ease of my garage.
But I couldn’t let Luca know any of that.Show the enemy no weakness, I reminded myself.
“The same way you can’t stop yourself from making bad choices when you’re out partying, Luca. It’s just in my nature,” I said with a sneaky grin. I knew that the snide remark wouldn’t be lost on him.
Georgia: 1 Luca: 0
After that, the waiter came back and took our order. The rest of the dinner was relatively quiet. Before exiting the restaurant, we went through a few more questions, but nothing exciting. As we left, the manager approached us, asking for a photo. He apparently was a big Hermes F1 fan –typical– and had the nerve to ask ifIcould take a picture of him and Luca. I agreed, much to my chagrin. I would definitely be hearing about that from Henri later.
Still, date 1 was complete. I had survived dinner, and now I just had to endure drinks on Thursday and a couple of visits to the Hermes garage. I could do this –what could possibly go wrong?
ChapterFour
HEAT? I EAT PEPPERS RAW
Georgia
Thursday morning arrived, and much like Tuesday and Wednesday, it was full of more publicity stunts and small media stories. We visited the local children’s hospital in the morning, which I truly enjoyed. Visiting the children’s hospital and speaking to the young girls truly brightened my day. I was on cloud nine – until we got to the paddock, and Lizzie reminded me that I had a track walk with Luca scheduled after the mandatory drivers meeting.
For the first time in the history of my driving career, I wanted this FIA drivers’ meeting to last forever, but to my dismay, this one ended up being incredibly short. Before I left for the Hermes garage, Lizzie slid another index card into my hand with even more questions.
Because the other ones had gone so well last night, I mused to myself. I thanked her and headed off with my Valkyrie F1 hat and Helios sunglasses. I figured wearing sunglasses made by Luca’s number one sponsor might remind Luca what was at stake, and if it got under his skin, then even better.
When I arrived at the garage, I smiled sweetly at Francesco, waving at the Hermes F1 team principal, who also happened to be Isabelle’s husband.
“You here to see Henri?” Francesco asked, a friendly little twinkle in his eye. It took everything within me not to roll my eyes at him in exasperation. The bastard knew I was here to see Luca, but he wanted me to say it.
