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“Ahh, a good question,” his father pondered, taking one more bite of his eggs before setting down his fork. “I wish I could say it had a long, riveting story, but it’s quite simple, actually. You see, as a child, Luca was obsessed with racing his go-kart, but his mother was always worried about him racing – even karts can be dangerous. So, in order to smooth his mother’s worries, he would tell his mother before every race, ‘Don’t worry, Mama, I’ll be back in a flash.’ An American slogan he had heard on TV, but it had stuck with him. Before long, it had become the slogan the family had adopted, and before we knew it, we just started calling him Flash at races. It was the fans that had adopted the lightning bolt logo once he got into Formula 1, and it stuck from there.” Luca looked a little embarrassed at his father’s retelling of the story – but he continued eating as if nothing was wrong, although his slightly red cheeks told another story.
“I can only imagine what a cute momma’s boy little Luca was.” I gave Luca a quick smile at my attempted jab, but his mother just looked at him with the most loving expression, and he smiled back at her; for a moment, my heart warmed at their interaction.
So Luca “Playboy” Rossi was also Luca “Momma’s Boy” Rossi – interesting.
As 9 a.m. rolled around, Luca signaled to me that it was time to go by tapping on his watch. We said our goodbyes to his parents, who said they couldn't wait to see us for lunch and then headed to the front of the hotel where my beautiful blue Veyron was waiting for me. Isabelle had wanted to put us in a Volkswagen Beetle, but Hermes said absolutely not. I was torn because the look on Luca's face when he realized that we were getting into a Beetle would have been hilarious, but on the other end, I never turned down the opportunity to drive the new Veyron.As we hopped into the car, Luca slowly slid into the passenger seat, clearly annoyed that we weren't in his black Lamborghini.
"Don't worry, Luca, you won't catch a disease from the car," I chuckled at his hesitancy. He smirked and rolled his eyes, buckling his seat belt in the process.
"So, I was told we, uh, needed to go through some more questions since we'll be so public this weekend," Luca said, his voice a little uneasy. I was shocked at his change in demeanor. Luca had always been so cocky, soMr. Confident, it was odd to hear his voice wavering with uncertainty.
"Sure, fire away.”
"When did you know you wanted to be a Formula 1 driver?" he asked.
"When I was five, our father took us to the Monaco Grand Prix. It is still, to this day, one of the best weekends of my life. I remember it like it was yesterday. The cars were shiny and beautiful, the weather was incredibly sunny, and my father held me for most of the race, pointing out the different cars and explaining the racetrack to me. I knew in that moment that I wanted to be a race car driver, wanted to make him proud."There was a comfortable silence in the air as if Luca was considering what I had said.
"I guess I always just knew I was going to be a professional driver since my dad was one," he said simply, shrugging his shoulders.I didn't quite know what to say to that, but I supposed it made sense, all things considered. I wondered what Luca would have been if his dad hadn’t been an F1 champion, but I decided not to ask. Luca pulled out another sheet of paper from his pocket and read the question.
"What is your favorite pasta?"As he said it, I couldn't help but let out a snort.
"They really want us to know this one, don't they?" I teased, trying to lighten the mood. "Mine is spaghetti, a total classic. Henri makes an incredible spaghetti bolognese. Whenever we have a family dinner night at his, he makes it for us with the most delicious Texas toast, a recipe he learned when we visited our family in America."
"Henri a cook? Now that I wouldn't have guessed," Luca huffed out, a little shocked at my revelation. "I like macaroni; it’s simple, classic, and easy to make, no matter the sauce."
How practical of him,I thought to myself. Luca didn't strike me as a mac and cheese kind of guy, but now all I could picture was Luca shoveling mac and cheese into his face like a five-year-old – with jalapeños on top, of course. I let out a small laugh at the image.
"Is my pasta funny?" he scoffed, apparently a little offended.
"No, no, I'm sure grown men eat mac and cheese all the time," I teased. He rolled his eyes and went to say something but decided to keep his mouth shut as we arrived at the paddock. As we entered the parking lot, I could see fans everywhere – waiting for a driver to arrive.
"Here we go," I heard Luca whisper to himself; his voice was almost inaudible, and I could see the weight of the situation in his eyes. The fans adored him, and that pressure was a monster that was hard to describe.
I took a deep breath, put on the biggest smile that I could muster, and stepped out of the car. I looked at the crowd that was starting to form around the cars and barricades.
Italy really does bring out a crowd, I thought to myself, once again stealing a glance at Luca, who was staring at the endless sea of fans. After a few more moments, Luca stepped out of my passenger side door and waved, sending the crowd into a frenzy. All of a sudden, there was screaming and cheering from all directions, cheering on Luca, asking for signatures and photos. Luca walked to the trunk and took out my bag and his, carefully handing me my bag. I put the strap over my shoulders and then looked at him, a small smile on my face.
Luca knew what that meant – it was time to give the people what they wanted. He looked down at our hands and grabbed mine, interlocking our fingers with one another. He looked back up into my eyes and smiled that huge Cheshire cat grin.
"Ready to walk down?" he asked. I just nodded in response and let Luca lead us toward the paddock gates, the both of us signing merchandise and taking selfies with as many fans as we could.
"Georgia! Georgia! Are you and Luca dating?" I looked down at the voice to see a young girl brightly smiling up at me, a Valkyrie cap in her hands. Before I could answer, Luca bent down and gave her a big smile.
"Snagged me the best racer on the grid, don't you think?" he grinned at the little girl, and she chuckled as she asked for a selfie with the two of us, which we happily obliged.
The second best part of being a racing driver was interacting with my young female fans. Watching their eyes glow up when I spoke to them reminded me why I was doing this. Change had to happen in this sport, and I was proud of myself for leading the way with Lily.Women were no longer grid girls – we were drivers, engineers, and Team Principals.
Luca and I made our way through the barricade of fans and to the security entrance of the paddock walkway, still hand in hand. As Luca and I walked through, Wilmington F1 Team driver Edward, in his ridiculous bright green-colored hoodie, came bounding over to us, like a golden retriever who had just seen his newest play toy.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't F1's hottest new couple!" Edward called out to us, a large smile on his face as he wiggled his eyebrows at the two of us. "I don't know why Henri gets the credit for this. I feel like I should have the honors," he announced proudly. Luca poked him in the stomach, reminding him not to be too loud. We didn't need Edward Davis spoiling this for us. I was already doing a good job of that myself.
"Why are you here so early? Team principal trying to keep a short leash on you?” I teased.
"Just getting some extra debriefing on the breaks this morning, figured I might as well come in early and see the Luca Rossi madness unfold." Luca scoffed at that, batting Edward over the head.
"I hear the three of us will all be in the same press conference this morning; wonder how that could have happened," Edward smirked. The FIA was known for trying to stir the pot, especially if it meant more people would watch the pre-race media coverage.
"Never a dull moment with the FIA," I groaned. "Well, as lovely as it's been chatting with you, Luca and I have media duties to attend to," I said pointedly, pulling Luca away with me.
