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“All you need is top ten,” I heard Mel, my race engineer, say into my radio, a poor attempt at trying to cheer me up. I was a championship contender, and I didn’t want to settle for P9 in Q2. Fortunately, Lily had also made it through, which was great for the team. We were coming into our cars, and the new wing upgrades were phenomenal.
As Q3 started, I heard a loud sound from my car on the out lap.
“Shit, what is that?” I gritted out into the radio.
“Box, box,” was all I heard back from Mel. After a quick look at the car, the mechanics found some debris stuck in my flooring.
Great, just great. Not what I need right now,I lambasted quietly to myself. The team quickly got the car back onto the track, but the best I could pull was a starting position of P8. Lily, however, managed to squeak out a P5.
As I returned to the garage, I tried to hide my fury, but the look on Mel and Fiona’s faces told me they knew how I was feeling. I hopped out of the cockpit and went straight to my driver’s room, throwing down my helmet onto my sofa.
“Fuck!”
Every race counted towards the championship, and now I had my teammate in front of me, which would make it even harder to pass tomorrow. I threw off my racing gear and hopped into the shower, opting to get it as cold as possible. As I came out of the shower, I heard a knock on the door.
“Georgie, it’s me, Oliver. Can I come in?”I quickly threw on some clothes and opened the door to see Oliver standing in front of me with a bottle of wine and two solo cups.
“Figured you could use a drink.” The Wilmington driver came in and plopped himself down on my massage table, making himself at home.I nodded, happily taking the cup from Oliver’s hand.
“So… how are things with Luca?” He asked gently. I couldn’t help but notice the slight twinkle in his eye – clearly he,too,was also enjoying my misery.
“As good as can be when I’mfakedating arealbuffoon,” I bit back. Oliver laughed at that, raising his drink and colliding it with mine.
“Yeah, when Arthur informed Edward and me about the plan, I have to say we were both quite shocked. That said, Edward has a bet that by the end of the season, you’ll beactuallydating.”
“Well, Edward isactuallyan idiot,” I deadpanned back.
“True… but he thinks Luca likes you, you know.”
“Doubt it. The only thing Luca Rossi likes about me is his ability to get under my skin.”
“So, how long do you think this will have to go on?” I could see in Oliver’s eyes that he hadn’t meant to antagonize me, and I appreciated his attempt to quickly steer the conversation in a different direction.
“Until the sponsors decide we’re worthy of their money, I suppose.” Oliver got up from the massage table and moved to give me a little hug and squeeze.
“Keep your head up, love. Who knows, you might find something you like about Luca?”
I didn’t have it in me to ask why everyone kept saying that, and instead, I gave Oliver a big smile as he left my room.What was Luca, an enigma that the entire paddock except me had figured out?
After Oliver left, I packed my bag for the hotel. The likelihood of tonight being a long, sleepless night was strong. But, on the plus side, the best part of not getting pole?I didn’t have to face the media today.
* * *
“And we have a blistering 100 degrees Fahrenheit here on this beautiful Miami Sunday,” I heard the radio announce. I quickly turned it off, mourning the loss of the clouds that we had seen during yesterday’s qualifying session. Saturday had been brutal, as seen by my embarrassing eighth-place grid start. Even Lily had managed to qualify better than me, not that I was begrudging her for the excellent fifth place qualification, but I had never qualified lower than fifth place in the last four races, and as the team’s number one driver, it hurt when my teammate out-qualified me – even if she was the sweetest person on the planet.
With a 12:30 p.m. race start, I was expected at the paddock early in the morning – especially if I was to casually drop by Luca's garage again. Except this time, it was going to be more than a little ‘pop in,’ Matteo and Lizzie had decided. Since things were going so well on social media, an Italian coffee date was clearly in order.
My love of coffee was known all across the track. Fans even made me little coffee canisters and gave me mugs as gifts when they popped by for signings. I had done a couple of joint Instagram posts supporting local coffee brands in the countries our team had visited over the last few months.
I made it clear to Henri last night that he was to make sure he was available at 9:30 this morning, less I have to face Luca alone again for another awkward“OMG, can’t believe I found you here… at the Hermes garage…. where you’re supposed to be”moment with Luca.
I arrived at the paddock by 9 a.m. with Chris, my athletic trainer, in tow. Chris knew I liked to typically arrive at race day events by myself, a ritual I had started at Indy Car. I enjoyed being alone in the morning before a race – just me, my thoughts, and a carefully crafted playlist and cup of coffee, but with everything going on these days, Chris offered to hop into the car with me, and I couldn’t bring myself to say no. I appreciated the company.
“Good morning,” Lizzie announced as Chris and I walked into the garage together. She was wearing a bright yellow bandana that made her look as though she was emulating the very sun that was providing the blistering Miami heat. I told her as much, and she smiled a smile that could only be described as ‘ear to ear.’
“Thought I would try and bring the sunshine in case Miami brought rain, but now I fear it worked too well,” she giggled. I dropped my stuff off in my room and grabbed my phone.
“So, should we get this little coffee date over with so I can go back to focusing on my race?” I suggested.
