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“I’m sorry,” was all I could utter back. I felt defeated. Here I was with a big P2, a leader in the championship, and I felt more dejected than ever.No one said anything for several more minutes before Lizzie took out her phone and checked her messages.
“Matteo just told me that Luca will be waiting for you at his Lamborghini. Do us all a favor and drive it for him; I’m not sure he can drive that car back safely.” I took one more look at Isabelle, who still had a blank look on her face, and nodded at Lizzie before exiting the office, picking up my bag in the process.
I could feel the tears forming in my eyes, so I hurried to the parking garage, not wanting anyone to see me cry. I felt bad skipping the fans who had asked me for photos, but I knew a photo of a fan with me crying was only going to show them one thing –my weakness.
Luca was in his car, and he waved at me. He was sitting in the passenger side of the car; clearly, Matteo had told him he was much too drunk to drive. I smiled back weakly and hopped into the driver’s seat. I had driven Henri's Lamborghini many times, so it felt natural to me, even if I hated it.
Maybe I should get used to driving a car that isn’t a Bugatti; it’s unlikely I’ll have my seat much longer anyway. I knew thinking like that could be the end of a driver’s career, but it was hard to stop myself.
As we pulled out of the parking garage, I could see Luca texting on his phone – likely thanking the hundreds of friends and family that had sent him loving messages, a stark contrast to my phone, which currently had a couple of texts from my bothers and mother, and I knew what Hugo and Henri had to say about this mess, so I had left those texts unread.
Some ten minutes went by, and Luca began idly chatting with me about his plans for the evening. Lizzie had already told me there was a big VIP party, and all the drivers would be attending, regardless of who would be the race winner. I had secretly hoped that I could get out of it, but with Luca P1 and me P2, there was 0% chance of that happening. Luca kept chatting about his day, although I could see his demeanor shift a bit when he finally took a moment to look at me.
* * *
Luca
Tears had begun to fall down Georgia’s face, and although she was deathly quiet, I could tell something was wrong with her. The press conference had not gone as planned. That asshole had it out for Georgia, and it was infuriating. As if instinctually, I grabbed her hand on the steering wheel. I wasn’t sure if that was the right decision because she began crying even harder.
“Pull over, Georgia,” I demanded softly. She nodded her head no.
Insufferable woman, I thought to myself – half joking.
“I mean it, pull over.” The second time I asked, she complied, pulling over to the side of the road in front of a little café. Her hands were still gripping the steering wheel, and she was staring out of the windscreen, refusing to look at me.
I grabbed her hand and pulled it into mine. Her breathing had started to become heavy, and her tears were falling harder. I unbuckled her seat belt, pulling her out of the driver’s seat and into my lap, letting my hand rub circles up and down her back. Georgia was crying harder now, and her face was deep into my neck as tears continued to pour down her face and onto my shirt.
“It’ll be okay, Georgie,” I whispered into her ear. “It’ll be okay.” I didn’t know what else to say other than that, so I continued to soothe her as she sobbed into my shirt. Everything within me told me this was more than the journalists’ remarks. There was still the rest of the season to drive for, and coming in second place was hardly a crying matter.
“No, it won’t. I’m going to lose my seat,” she whimpered back, trying to get ahold of her breathing.
“Isabelle fire a world champion? I doubt it.” I tried to lift my voice, attempting to make light of the situation.
“I won’t be a world champion. The press made that clear. Henri and Noah are better drivers, and once the teams fix the reliability of their cars, I won’t be on podiums; I won’t get to win the World Drivers Championship.”
I held onto her tighter as Georgia continued, “If we lose this Maison de Klotho sponsorship because of me, the team won’t forgive me. They won’t have to because we’ll be out of money.”
“One outburst isn’t going to stop Maison de Klotho from meeting with you Wednesday,” I promised, although I didn’t truthfully know if that was true. Fashion brands were fickle and moved on quickly; it’s part of the reason why most of the Formula 1 teams weren’t sponsored by them.“Plus, you and Lily are much too attractive of a team,” I added with a wink.
Georgia’s tears started to slow down, and she looked at me, a small smile on her lips, “You’re a terrible liar, Luca Rossi.”
“And you’re an ugly crier,” I shot back, poking her in the side. She shot me a glare but laughed at my quip. There was an easy silence between us as I continued to stroke her back, letting her wipe away her tears.
As the tears started to slow down, I reached for her cheek and wiped away one of her tears with my finger.
Georgia really was beautiful. Even after all of those tears, she was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. She liked to make snide remarks here and there about me dating models, but the truth was, none of them compared to her beauty. She didn’t need makeup, false eyelashes, or fake tan. Her natural self was breathtaking. Add that to her hilarious wit and intelligence –Georgia Dubois was a catch.
It’s why I had asked her out all those years ago.
It’s also why I stood her up on that date all those years ago. She was too good for me. I didn’t deserve someone like Georgia Dubois, so five years ago, after I asked her out, I stood her up; too scared to face the rejection I knew she was going to eventually give me.I saw the way she looked at Éliott Simon back then. She would never look at me the same, no matter how badly I wanted her to.
“I should get us back to the hotel,” Georgia said finally.
Much to my –secret– disappointment, she crawled off of my lap and back into the driver’s seat. She put a smile on her face; it seemed forced, but not as forced as earlier.As she rested her hand on top of the clutch, I put my hand on top of hers and let it rest there. We drove the rest of the way back to the hotel in complete silence.
* * *
As soon as Georgia and I got back to the hotel, we made quick work of grabbing a bite to eat and throwing on some acceptable party clothes. As soon as 9 p.m. hit, we made our way downstairs, immediately spotting Henri and Lily in front of what was probably the largest limo I had ever seen. If Georgia had told Henri about her outburst earlier, he didn’t show it. Instead, he gave her a warm hug, and they sat at the back of the limo together.I knew it was ridiculous to feel jealous of the fact that she had chosen to sit next to Henri instead of me, the race winner. He was her brother, and she had experienced a rough day; it’s not like she had chosen to sit next to Éliott over me.
