AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Right, well, needless to say, things are going great in the social media department. We’ve been monitoring different posts, and the fans are loving the two of you. Speculation is high. After the race, Luca and Georgia were trending on Twitter.” Lizzie clapped her hands together, the loud boom making me jump slightly in my seat. She was a little too proud of herself, in my opinion.
“The helping you out of the car, absolutely priceless. Defending you to the journalist? The cherry on top. Couldn't have asked for a better media interaction."
I scoffed at that. There I was, dying of 100+ degree heat, but all the social media team could think of was the gold mine that was discovered. Sure, Luca had fiercely defended me in front of the media circus, something that had taken me by surprise, but I had also stood up for myself. Not that anyone mentioned that in any of those post-race debrief articles.
“So since the fans have bought into this so nicely, and since this upcoming race is Luca's home race, Matteo and I have decided to move up the timeline a tad.”With that statement, I lifted my eyebrows warily.
“How much is a tad?” I knew the somber tone of my voice would not be missed.
“Next week, you and Luca should be more public in the paddock…” Lizzie drifted off, clearly a little worried about what she was going to say next. I motioned for her to continue, unconsciously sitting on the edge of my seat.
“We’re going to have you hold hands throughout the paddock and attend a couple of events together,” she said very quickly, probably hoping I wouldn’t hear it all. I pictured her at the paddock directing me around, saying, “Well, I told you back at the office,” in hopes that she could insinuate that I wasn’t listening during the social media meeting.
Her plan certainly wouldn't work on me. I was on high alert anytime Luca's name was being thrown around.I let out a big sigh because I knew it was only a matter of time before we were going to have to escalate the relationship. In a fan’s mind, a couple that had been friends for years and dated for about a month held hands.
After a brief pause, I finally nodded, knowing there was no point in arguing my case.
“Fine, I guess that makes sense.” I could see Lizzie’s face lighten up. Clearly, she was expecting me to fight this, but the relief that washed over her face gave me a little bit of happiness.
At least I can make Lizzie happy today. She clapped her hands and headed over to give me a big hug as she dropped the newest itinerary in front of me, a folder with Italian flags all over it.
“Excellent! Here’s the rest of your itinerary. Oh, and just one more thing – we booked two rooms next to each other. It’s Luca's home race, and fans will expect you guys to be alllovely dovey– didn’t make sense to have you in separate hotels.”
“Separate rooms, right?” I asked cautiously. Like hell was I going to share a room with Luca Rossi.
It didn’t matter if he was the most handsome driver on the grid… or if he smelled incredible… or if he had been acutely aware enough to pull me out of the car before I passed out from heat exhaustion…A shared room is an absolute no.
My thoughts were cut off by Lizzie, who shrilled, “Of course! I know how much your sleep is important to you before a race, which is the story you and Luca will share if anyone questions why you have separate rooms, got it?”I nodded my agreement. It seemed easy enough.
The rest of the meeting concluded with Lizzie going through a few more Instagram posts that people had posted of us. One was from the Hermes F1 social media team, who had done a cute post on my visit to the Hermes garage for the orchestrated, ‘accidental’ tour Luca had given me. To be fair to them, it did look cute. Luca looked like a kid in a candy store, showing me all of the coolest new items that had just arrived.
I enquired to see if any sponsors had seen the posts and if there were any changes to the deals. Lizzie denied it, which made sense. We were going to have to put in a lot more effort if we were going to turn this sponsorship situation around.
* * *
Luca
Miami was undoubtedly my best race of the season to date. I had managed to get onto the podium, and I was starting to feel real confidence in the car. The sooner I got my driving life together and my personal life more private, the sooner I could be rid of Little Ms. Sassy Dubois. However, after my help with getting her out of the car, the media and fans had gone wild. I was being hailed as “Georgia’s Hero” – which felt ridiculous. All I did was help a driver out of her car. I was a decent human being, and I didn’t appreciate everyone making hoopla about me doing the basics – did no one expect me to help her?
The moment she pulled up, I knew something was wrong. Georgia had a signature jump out of the car she did when she made it to the podium of a race. It was, to be fair, pretty cute, and when she didn’t jump out this time, I knew something was wrong. I figured she would be pissed that she had lost to her brother, but no way would she neglect to get out of the car to celebrate with Henri.
When I pulled her out of the car, the look of panic on her face was real. I felt like, for the first time, I was seeing a glimpse of the real Georgia. She wasn’t her usual straight-laced, composed self. She seemed human, and it was a breath of fresh air to see Little Ms. Perfect have a normal reaction to the environment. And when she looked into my eyes, it sparked something inside of me that felt difficult to ignore.
On the last day of the visit to the Hermes F1 factory, Henri and I had been summoned to a communications meeting – which I knew instantly was going to be about Georgia and I’s relationship at Monza. As I walked into the room, Bella, my communications manager, patted me on the back.
“Good stuff, Luca, pulling Georgia out of the car like that, absolute gold. And then defending her at the press conference? Just great,” she congratulated.I brushed her off, trying not to look too annoyed at the lack of congratulations for getting P2, myactualachievement from last weekend.
“I’m not going to leave any driver in their car. What her team did to her was stupid and dangerous – plus that journalist was an asshole. I’ve been wanting to put him in his place for a while,” was all I could mutter back as a reply.
“Well, regardless, the audience seems to be loving this relationship. Henri, that little live story you did at the bar was gold. Speculation is running high that Henri has set you two up, which is going to lead us into a perfect weekend where we can make the relationship public at your home race,” Matteo chimed in.
Of course, they were going to take advantage of my home race. I finally had a chance to win at Monza, and my communications team was more worried about how Georgia and I were going to interact as a couple. The team explained the plan for us to walk through the paddock hand in hand. There would be the usual garage visit, probably a track walk, and then an event if the schedule allowed it.
“And who knows, maybe if you get on the podium, she’ll give you a little congratulations kiss,” Matteo said with a chuckle. At that comment, Henri cleared his throat, clearly unamused by my cousins’ antics.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Henri said dryly.
“Don’t worry, mate, no one wants to kiss your sister less than I do,” I quipped, giving Henri a dramatic pat on the shoulder. I thought he might have appreciated the joke, but instead, he turned to me and actually looked offended. He didn’t want me to kiss his sister – but he clearly wanted me towantto kiss his sister.
