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Or, I could grin it and bare it for now –and make Henri squirm later.
It took every piece of me not to escalate the conversation, but I knew the latter option would be more satisfying in the end. Henri couldn’t control how we acted in public. Regardless of what he wanted, Georgia and I were still dating each other, with no plans to end this fake relationship in sight.
“The only thing going on is that Hermes has insisted I date your sister. If you don’t like that, I suggest you take it up with our team principal, Francesco,” I retorted, probably with a little bit more malice than intended, but no one accused me of being perfect.Before Henri could respond to that, I plastered a big smile on my face and slapped Henri on the back, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him closer to me.
“But don’t worry,mate, I’ll be sure to keep my irresistible charm and good looks in check next week in Majorca. I mean, your sister is much too intelligent to fall for a man just because he has a yacht off the coast of Spain, right? ” I added with a grin and a wink.
As soon as the words were uttered from my mouth, I walked away, knowing full well that Henri was now contemplating how he could get himself invited to our mini vacation next weekend. The image of his sister in a bathing suit onmy yacht was clearly etched into his mind.
Good.
* * *
Georgia
Luca and I were instructed to meet in Madrid on Tuesday. After the surprise brunch on Monday, I felt like I needed a day to myself, but unfortunately, Lizzie insisted we had to be there as soon as possible. Maison de Klotho were eager to get their photos taken, and the partnership with GQ was too good to pass up.
Truth was, I was slightly annoyed after the brunch on Monday. I knew Henri had meant well, but the race was enough socialization for a lifetime. I didn’t need a bunch of people being dragged to my safe haven; it was bad enough that Luca was there all the time. Although, truthfully, Luca was the least annoying part of that brunch. Unlike everyone else, he gave me the space I was craving on Monday. On the plane ride to Madrid, we barely said two words to each other, and I was relieved.
After the photoshoot, Luca and I were to spend the evening in Madrid at his apartment. Since the technology center for Hermes F1 was based outside of Madrid, Luca kept a small condo in the city for easy access to the offices. I assumed that Luca had booked us a fancy dinner somewhere, although I wanted nothing more than to crash that evening in his guest room. Still, Lizzie was clear: we needed to make this part of our relationship look real, and what was more real than a big fancy date with F1’s most eligible bachelor? After that, we would head to Majorca with his family on Wednesday, and Henri, Hugo, and Lily would meet us on Thursday. I wasn’t sure why Henri was so insistent on coming on this vacation, but I was happy to be able to spend time with my brothers. Éliott, Oliver, and Edward were on Edward’s yacht as well, and Luca said we would probably meet up with them over the weekend.
As much as I wanted some time alone –time to myself– I was excited to have a mini break on the yacht. Luca's family was incredibly sweet and charming, and it would be nice to spend some time away from the F1 world and prying eyes of fans. Lizzie had asked that we take several photos and post them on our social media pages since we would be so far away from journalists and photographers. She didn’t want our relationship to ‘get lost in the shuffle’ – whatever that meant.
Once we touched down in Madrid, we hopped into the private limousine that Maison de Klotho had sent to pick us up. Inside the car was a small bottle of champagne, which Luca quickly poured for us. I thanked him quietly, trying – and failing – to put a small smile on my face.
I had never done a photoshoot like this before, and as we started to get closer to the offices, I could feel myself getting even more nervous. I hoped that I was hiding it well, but considering Luca kept shifting his eyes onto me, I could tell that I wasn’t.
Great, just another reason why Luca thinks I’m an idiot, I thought to myself, a little embarrassed.I was a Formula 1 driver who raced some of the fastest cars on earth, and here I was, scared of a photoshoot.
As the driver pulled up to the front of the beautiful Madrid office, a coordinator from both Maison de Klotho and GQ was waiting for us at the front. Luca got out of the car first and then held his hand out for me, helping me out of the car. I tried not to roll my eyes too much. I could get out of a car by myself – my incompetence was around journalists, not cars. Still, this was Madrid, a city that felt more old-school and traditional, so I accepted his hand.
“Good morning!” The voice came from the Maison de Klotho coordinator, whose name was Lilah. Apparently, she was to be our escort for the day.
More like a prison warden, I mused to myself. Luca and I both exchanged good mornings and after a round of chit-chat with Lilah, we made our way inside.
The offices were absolutely incredible on the inside. As you walked in, there was a huge marble staircase that led you up to some of the executive offices. They had various outfits throughout the years that they had designed for movie sets and royalty alike in glass enclosures. I stopped in front of one. It was a dress they had made for Grace Kelly, the American actress who later became the Princess of Monaco.
“It must be so neat to work here,” I mused out loud.
“Oh yes, it truly is a dream come true,” Lilah agreed, a huge smile on her face. As we continued the tour, we were shuffled into a room that looked like a break room. It had sodas, snacks, and coffee laid out on a small table surrounded by some nicely decorated couches and furniture. After a cup of coffee and a breakfast bar, Luca and I were introduced to the photographer, writer, and stylist that we would be working with throughout the day.
After introductions, Luca and I were shuffled into different rooms to try on various pieces of clothing. GQ had sent a writer to hang out with us during the shoot, so as we got ready and went between rounds of photos, Mark, our assigned writer, would sit and chat with us – “get to know who we are as people, not just world-class racers.” He felt as though he could see the ‘real us’ –his words– when we were interacting with each other on set.
That, of course, was my fear. Nothing about the Georgia Dubois being photographed on set really said, ‘Hey, this young lady is doing well mentally.’ Not exactly the Georgia that Valkyrie F1 was looking to feature in the magazine.
When I came out of the dressing room in my first outfit, I saw Luca already in the studio, chatting away with the journalist and photographer, charming them, no doubt. As I walked in, I heard a wolf whistle come out of Luca's mouth. I let out a small smile and rolled my eyes, feeling a little bit of heat rush to my cheeks. Luca was in a beautifully tailored suit. His hair was nicely combed and slicked back, but the fluffiness was still on full display. He reached out his hand, and I took it.
Luca let his gaze go slowly up and down my body, probably a little too obviously, but I knew he wanted the journalist and photographer to catch that.
“Beautiful,” he whispered loudlyenough for the entire room to hear, and I couldn’t help but blush.
“You don’t look too bad yourself, Rossi. Much better than those Hermes suits Francesco always put you in,” I joked. I then turned back to the photographer, my eyes shifting to the ground. I could feel my hands begin to sweat, and I decided that looking at the ground was much easier, lest I say something stupid.
Suddenly I felt a hand interlock with mine, and I looked up, turning slightly towards Luca. He was still chatting away with the photographer, but he squeezed my hand just a little bit tighter. I hated to admit it, but I felt a rush of relief go through me. I began to relax my shoulders and then looked up at the photographer and smiled, trying to at least pretend to be involved in the conversation, even if I hadn’t said a word.
We chatted a bit more about the poses they wanted us to do; some of the photos would be of both of us, and some of them would be individual shots. Fortunately, Lilah was there to help the photographer and explain more of what he wanted.
As Luca was taking his individual shots, Mark approached me, a huge grin on his face, and I knew he wanted something. That pang of anxiety that had started to leave my body quickly returned, and I could feel my back stiffen up.
