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“Thanks, Liz. Do Lily and Chris know?”
“We’ll tell them in a few. We’re about to meet with Lily on race strategy. Why don’t you head to your gym and start your workout?”
And with that, it was decided. Starting tomorrow, I would be in a relationship with someone who could only be described as the most insufferable and arrogant driver on the grid. I nodded to Lizzie and skulked to my driver’s room to nurse my wounded ego.
* * *
“Knock, knock, can I come in?” I heard the voice of my athletic trainer, Chris, at the door. Chris had been my athletic trainer since my first year in Indy Car, and we were inseparable during race weekends. When I moved to the U.S., I knew no one in Indy Car, and getting Chris as my trainer was like being thrown a lifejacket in a pool where I was drowning. He was kind, thoughtful, funny, and probably the sassiest person I had ever met. His journey as a gay man working in the racing industry inspired me, and we quickly became close friends.
“If I said no, does that mean I can skip today’s workout?” I turned around to see a stupid grin on Chris’ face, followed by an apologetic smile that told me, ‘You could be married to the Devil, and I would still make you do your workouts.’ I scoffed at his grinning face. Clearly, Isabelle had already told him about the outrageous plan the team had concocted.
“I know you and Luca don’t have a close… friendship, but hey, if you’re going to fake a relationship with anyone on the grid, at least they picked the most attractive, and dare I say sexiest, driver. There’s no denying it, Georgie, that man is sex on wheels –literally.” Chris wiggled his shoulders as he laughed at his terrible pun.
“Plus, his dad is probably one of the nicest people on the planet. Maybe you’ll get to visit their vacation house in Majorca. Now that would be worth the hassle!”
Chris was nothing if not an optimist. It’s probably why he and Lizzie got along so well. I often saw them in the back of the garage, giggling away while looking at ridiculous social media videos. They were the two chattiest people on the planet, and when they were together, nothing could stop them. I let out a long, exasperated sigh as I leaned back and finished my hydration packet.
“The whole thing is ridiculous. No one is going to believe this.”
“You might be surprised. Luca is, if anything, a good actor. He’s probably one of the better choices.”
I gave Chris a pointed look to remind himwhohe was talking about. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It was as if Chris actually thought this was a good idea. As I was going to say something I would probably regret, I heard another knock at the door.
“Good grief, am I going to see the whole paddock today?” The exasperation came out ruder than I had intended, but before I could immediately apologize for my statement, in walked Lily – a huge smirk plastered across her face that made me instantly forget my apology.
“Morning Georgie. Thought I’d come in, see how things are going,” she said in a voice that sounded like it was dripping in sweet caramel. I stared at her blankly. My teammate knew exactly how things were going.
“Just dandy, Lily. I suppose you’ve heard the fun news: I managed to win myself that boyfriend the press are always so worried about.” Lily giggled at that and patted me on the back.
“Keep your head up, Georgie. Who knows, maybe under that rugged, dark, handsome exterior, you might find something you like about Luca Rossi.” Before she could utter another word, I picked up my pillow and threw it at her, causing her and Chris to snicker at my unfortunate position.
“The only thing I imagine I’ll learn about Luca Rossi is that he is exactly as insufferable as I imagine him to be.” Lily gave me a look that told me she was not entirely convinced by my charade.
“Well, if I knew that we’d be given handsome boyfriends if we sucked at media, maybe I would have taken a page out of your book.” She stuck her tongue out at me and then turned around, heading towards my driver’s room door.
“I’m happy to swap if you would like,” I yelled back after her. Lily picked up my pillow and threw it back at me before leaving the room, still chuckling to herself.
The rest of Tuesday went smoothly – or at least as smoothly as it could go, considering I had been told my life was about to be turned upside down. As I hopped into bed that evening, I stared at the ceiling for an eternity. Henri had popped by my hotel room earlier, trying to make amends, and while I knew it was wrong to be this mad at him, I couldn’t help it. I had asked him to leave me alone, and to my surprise, he had decided to listen. I was frustrated and angry, and if I was honest with myself, I wasjealous. Jealous that Henri was the ‘better Dubois’ that everyone loved. Jealous that Hermes’ golden boy could talk to the press like they had been best friends for a lifetime.
The truth was – I was mad and petty, and for one day in my life, I just wanted to be mad and petty.
* * *
Luca
When I left the Valkyrie F1 headquarters that Tuesday morning, I was fuming. This had my dad’s stink all over it. My old man had been pressuring me to “get my act together,” as he ever so kindly put it, since the season began. But after the yacht incident in Majorca, he had made it very clear that I had precisely four races to get my shit together before he got involved. I guess he was serious because here we were at race number five, and this charade had his meddling written all over it.
I entered the Hermes F1 offices in a huff, heading straight to the hospitality suite for families, where I saw both my father and mother enjoying an elegant cup of Italian coffee. I took a quick peak, ensuring the Dubois family wasn’t present, before slamming my hands down on the table.
“A little heads up would have been nice,” I said, staring straight into my father’s eyes.
“If I had done that, then I doubt you would have attended today’s meeting at Valkyrie?” I was annoyed by my dad’s tone, but I knew he was right.
“And pray tell me, why Georgia Dubois? She’s the most boring woman on the planet. I don’t think she’s even capable of having a conversation that isn’t centered around racing.”
“Good, maybe she’ll teach you some things about racing, so you’ll be better suited to answeractualquestions about the car,” my dad retorted.
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at his response. I knew plenty about the car, and my dad knew that. What he meant to say was, ‘Good, maybe you’ll become more focused on racing and less focused on partying,’ but I let it slide. I had survived being the insufferable Noah Hendriks’s teammate during my rookie year in F1. I could survive pretending to be boring, ‘know-it-all’ Georgia Dubois’ boyfriend for a season. The only thing she had going for her was that she was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful women in the paddock. It was a shame her good looks were overshadowed by her dull personality and propensity to dress like a grandmother.
